I`ve often wondered what the designers/fabric sellers and dress makers of yesteryear would think of the Marla`s of this World. Especially the price of their so called fashion.
When I was a kid, then a young teen, we had a shop in town which was owned by a lovely Jewish family. Mr R was a tailor and he had half the shop as his workroom and fitting room and Mrs R had the other half which had shelf upon shelf of fabric bolts.
There was a long glass counter with a brass yardstick screwed to it and inside the cabinet were drawers full of ribbon, lace, buttons, needles and anything else you needed for dress making.
Brides to be would go along and Mrs R would climb her wooden ladder to the highest shelves and bring down rolls of satin or brocade in a multitude of colours so the bride could decide how to dress her bridesmaids. The little cobbler across the road had a colour match card so bridesmaids satin shoes could then be dyed to match.
Mothers went along to buy the fabric for their soon to be secondary school daughters school dresses. Each school had their own fabric, mine was a blue gingham check. Then there were the purchases for making going away outfits for a 2 day honeymoon to Blackpool or somewhere equally exotic, the black mantillas bought for funerals, the bright and cheery cottons for Summer dresses, serviceable fabrics for work skirts or maternity smocks and the party fabrics for little girls frilly frocks or Sunday school walking days. Every fabric you could think of and almost everybody could sew or knew somebody who could sew and many a front room was turned into a sewing room so a talented neighbour could earn her "pin money" making clothes for others.
Mr R made the serious stuff in his side of the shop. Mens made to measure suits, Harris tweed overcoats which would last a lifetime, posh tailored skirt suits for the ladies who could afford them and every week he`d display a fabulous sample of his tailoring skills on a mannequin just inside the doorway.
The shop smelled of wool, of crisp cotton, of colour and light. It sounds silly but it was a happy looking shop with a fabric or colour jumping out at you from every side. Mrs R was 5ft nothing, with a tape measure around her neck and a floral overall over her frock. Mr R was immaculate in his tailored suit, pristine white shirt, striped tie and beautifully polished shoes.
Sadly as fashions changed and clothing became cheap, made abroad and people wanted quantity not quality, the Roseman family business declined. Both Mr and Mrs R grew older and cheap ready made clothing from high street shops meant their old customers died off and the younger generations wanted fast fashion they could just buy off the rails. Fewer and fewer people sewed or wanted made to measure suits and overcoats.
My Dad passed away in 2003 aged 87 and in his wardrobe he still had 2 suits which had been made by Mr R and in fact he was buried in one of them. He still had his overcoat bought back in the 60`s from Mr R and he wore it every Winter until he died.
When I moved out of my own house to marry Mr V I found the bridesmaid dress I wore at my sister`s wedding in 1969 and yes the fabric came from Mrs R and yes the little cobbler across the road colour matched my shoes !
Big, baggy and out of shape.
