This morning began with an inbox that feels suspiciously alive. Since the relaunch, people I haven't heard from in a long time have been getting in touch, one by one. No grand words, no formalities. Just a certain relief between the lines, a quiet "good to have you back" that nobody needs to say out loud because you read it anyway.
And then, early today, there was this sender. A single letter, G., and I knew at once who was behind it. The address alone was enough. I sat there with my coffee, smiling like someone who has just heard their name across a crowded room.
During my first time at the helm of PURE, G. was one of those guests you simply don't forget. More than fifty dates, over years. All in Stuttgart.
That isn't a number, it's a shared history. That I can recognise him from an email address says more about the bond between us and our guests than any statistic could. A man who stays that long isn't there for an offer. He's there because he feels looked after.
Of course, he has long since been noted down. Guests with this kind of history get a place of their own at PURE, in the exclusive area that is taking shape right now. And from this circle, the first handful will be invited to accompany our ladies on their very first steps. Trust grows in both directions here, and anyone who knew PURE from before knows that.
This thought alone gives me a boost that will easily carry me through the week. I notice it in small things: I walk a little faster, I answer messages I would have left lying yesterday. "PURE has to be PURE again," I said. This morning, for the first time, it didn't feel like a resolution. It felt like coming home.
Discreetly yours,
Lena