In the small town where I was born and bred we once boasted a small shopping arcade aptly named Victoria Arcade because it was built in Victorian times. There were only around a dozen shops in it and each shop had a bay window and wrought iron work around the doors and fancy plaster coving and ceiling roses inside.
There was a herbalist who had large jars of dried herbs on wooden shelves behind the counter and scales to weigh out whatever you bought. The shop smelled aromatic and at one side was a small counter where you could sit and drink a glass of what was called blood tonic. It was served warm and tasted delicious. My Dad used to take me in there and buy me a glass.
There was a tobacconists and under the glass counter were rows of cigars and trays of pipes. They sold smart cigarette cases and cigarette holders and leather humidifiers for those posh folks who could afford to buy expensive cigars and of course there were the usual behind the counter shelves with packets of No 6, Embassy, Benson and Hedges, Senior Service, Players etc.
The two shops which I loved most of all were one on each corner of the arcade entrance which meant they had two windows instead of one. They were both owned by a well know character who I`ll call Mary B. I`ll omit her surname just in case she has living relatives who may read this.
She was a tall ironing board thin woman who spoke with a cultured voice and she wore too much face powder in a too light shade which gave her a kind of ghostly look. Her hair was dyed auburn and even in the early 60`s which is the era I`m talking about, she still wore her hair in a 1940`s wavy style and she always had bright red lips and matching bright red finger nails. Nobody had a clue how old she actually was but she seemed to have been around forever.
One of her shops sold bags, purses, umbrellas and small leather goods. There were sequin evening bags, leather day bags, fancy patterned umbrellas and large cumbersome purses which would last forever. The shop smelled of leather and the bags were regimented in rows by colour and you weren`t allowed to touch them, only Mary or her sales assistant could do that.
She had two tiny yorkie terriers which slept in a wicker basket behind the counter but they`d yap whenever the shop bell rang with a tinga-ling sound and she`d shoo them back into their place.
Her other shop was the one I really liked. It sold costume jewellery, scarves, powder compacts, jewellery boxes and other eye catching fancy goods. Mary split her time between both shops and you`d regularly see her walking through town with her two terriers and she sashayed as she walked, a bit like the runway models of yesteryear did. She always wore a hat which was usually the size of a dustbin lid, a velvet creation in Winter with a fancy pleated crown and a straw hat in Summer with a chiffon scarf tied around it. She wore a real fur coat which reminded me of seeing Liz Taylor on TV and if ever a woman walked tall then it was she. She looked as if she had the World at her feet.
My parents loved ballroom dancing and would hit the floor at Blackpool Tower Ballroom whenever they could and they`d swirl to the Wurlitzer organ as it rose up through the stage. Of course this meant Mum had to own the required silver sparkly dancing shoes and whenever she could afford it she`d go to Mary`s shop and treat herself to a new pair of sparkly clip on earrings or a box of embroidered handkerchiefs.
I remember my Dad buying Mum a jewellery box from Mary`s and it was a wooden piano, handpainted in white with roses on it and when you lifted the lid a tiny ballerina danced to the tinny tune it played. Mum died in 1987 and she still had that jewellery box on her dressing table along with a hand mirror, brush and comb which were large with silver handles and the back of the mirror and brush had embroidered fabric under a perspex covering.
Come the late 1960`s the powers that be, decided Victoria Arcade should be no more and in it`s place they were going to build new shop units for the likes of Burtons, Rumbelows TV rentals, Boots, Freeman Hardy Willis etc and what was once a shoppers delight of character filled Victorian style shops filled with colourful and original wares had gone. No more browsing windows on your way home from school or work, no more Marys or her ilk, no more young courting couples sneaking a kiss in an arcade shop doorway on their way home from an evening viewing at the nearby Odeon and they called it progress.
Long after her shops had gone you still saw Mary sashaying down the streets with her fur coat, dustbin lid sized hats and reminding us soon to be young ladies of times gone by. We all wanted to be like Mary that is until Twiggy arrived and then we all wanted fake eye lashes and a Vidal Sasson haircut and we called that progress too.
