That Certain Je Ne Sais Quoi

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today we have following Lettice in one of London’s many taxis, in her case a rich and glossy blue one, as it ends its way through the city streets, leaving Cavendish Mews and Mayfair behind as Lettice heads west, skirting around Hyde Park via Hard Park, through the quiet and leafy tree lined streets of Tyburnia*, through the less salubrious and more crowded Westbourne Green** and finally into Notting Hill*** where it pulls up in front of an old two storey building with a rounded Georgian window in Portobello Road****. Lettice peers out of the window at the beautiful black painted bay filled with a vast and intriguing array of antiques, collectables and general bric-à-brac glinting in the pale summer sunshine. Above the window on a sign winding around the width of fascia***** reads ‘L. de Vries Curios******: items of interest bought and sold’.

 

“That’ll be six and six, mum.” the taxi driver says in rough and throaty voice through the glass divider between the driver’s compartment and the passenger carriage, breaking Lettice from her thoughts as she stares out the window.

 

Lettice’s eyes grow wide in shock as she lifts her beaded purse from her lap and opens it. “So that’s why you took me via the Grand Union Canal*******.” she mutters bitterly.

 

“I thought a nice laydee like yourself might enjoy the scenery, mum.” he defends with a wily smile as he tips the brim of his grey flannel worker’s cap. He leans back in his seat, stretching his arm through the window and opening his grubby palm to the well dressed lady swathed in a powder blue coat and a stylish hat in the black leather back seat.

 

“And you’d enjoy the extra fare.” Lettice retorts sulkily, fetching out the money from her reticule and dropping it into his outstretched hand, careful her dove grey kid glove clad hand does not come into contact with his dirty hand.

 

“Chap has to make an honest living, mum.” he replies, showing off a set of grey gravestone teeth******** as he smiles at the money falling into his palm.

 

“Honest!” Lettice scoffs as she opens the taxi door and alights onto the footpath, where a number of rather undernourished and scruffy looking children have gathered, drawn by the sight of the gleaming blue London taxi with its black and white chequered stripe and collapsible hood.

 

“Much obliged, mum.” he replies as she slams the door closed irritably.

 

With a belch from the engine the taxi glides out of the kerb and heads off down Portobello Road with the urchin children in hot pursuit, cheering and waving their hands enthusiastically.

 

Left alone in the high street, Lettice turns her back to the taxi disappearing in the distance and ascends the three steps up to the ship’s front door, which is painted a glossy black just like the window. She turns the polished brass handle and pushes open the door. A bell tinkles jovially above her head as the bell catches on the opening doorframe, announcing her arrival. Then, as the door closes softly behind her on its well-oiled hinges, her nose is hit by the familiar scents of Lancelot de Vries Curios and Collectables shop: bees wax furniture polish, Goddard’s Silver Polish********, candlewax, a hint of roses and the musty, dusty smell of old books, which reminded Lettice of her father’s beloved library in Wiltshire – one of her favourite rooms in Glynes, her childhood home and the Chetwynd’s family seat. She steps across the threshold and her feet sink into the thick woven carpets scattered across the bare boards and walks into the premises. Lancelot de Vries Curios and Collectables is a trove of treasures. Everywhere you look there is something of interest that if not enough to take your fancy, will at least pique your interest, as it does Lettice’s. The walls of the shop are lined with tall shelves or china cabinets, with a few bare parched of flocked wallpaper sporting paintings in gilded frames or ornamental plates. Each shelf and mirror backed cabinet is cluttered with any array of decorative porcelain in hundreds of different designs and patterns. Then the shop floor is cluttered with still more cabinets, tables, glass topped counters and pedestals with every surface put to full use to display Mr. de Vries’ wares: glass, pottery, fine porcelain, silverware, vases, urns, figurines, epergnes********** cottage orné pastille burners***********, dinner services, tureens, jugs, teapots and so much more. Yet in spite of it being so overly cluttered, the proprietor has an encyclopaedic knowledge of every last piece of his establishment’s inventory: where everything is, what its provenance************ is and what his cost for it is. And there, in its centre, surrounded by his beloved bric-à-brac, sat Mr. Lancelot de Vries himself.

 

“Ahh, Miss dear Chetwynd!” Mr. de Vries announces, his middle-aged face, not youthful but still handsome, beaming out at her as she steps into the centre of his showroom.

 

“How do you do, Mr. de Vries.” Lettice replies.

 

Mr. de Vries quickly picks himself up off his small stool and scuttles around the edge of his glass fronted and topped main counter stuffed with bits and pieces and envelops Lettice in a warm embrace. As he steps back at appraises Lettice, she does the same of him, noting his usual eccentric choice of garb of a Japanese kimono with fill ceremonial sleeves, this time a Naples yellow silk one embroidered with cobalt blue dragons, over the top of his suit, and his signature heavily embroidered deep red smoking cap************* with its dancing, dangling tassel, which is so old fashioned and out of vogue for gentlemen in the 1920s. Nevertheless Mr. de Vries eccentricities do not disturb Lettice or any of this other customers, and Lettice finds it an endearing quality.

 

“You’ll pardon me for expressing this,” he says with a frown that crumples his brow. “But you look tired my dear.” He raises his right hand and runs his thumb around Lettice’s left eye, pressing the skin beneath it. “You’ve got circles under your eyes.” He scolds. “I think I have some boric acid in my storeroom. I’ll send you home with some for a boric acid eyebath**************.”

 

“Oh no, Mr. de Vries…” Lettice protests, but he silences her by raising his long and elegant right hand with manicured fingernails*************** dressed with a few too many beautiful rings of winking precious stones and gold.

 

“Now, I won’t hear a word of excuse, Miss Chetwynd!” he insists in his beautifully cultured tones. “I saw Gerald at The Ham Bone*************** the other night with that lovely little oboist of his, and he told me, when I asked after your well being, that you’ve had a great deal on your mind at present.”

 

“Did he now!” Lettice exclaims indignantly. “I shall have to have words with him about that. I don’t like being gossiped about.”

 

“Now don’t be churlish, Miss Chetwynd,” Mr. de Vries chides with a wagging finger. “Of course you do. We all do. It’s what London’s society pages are for, and you are always in them.”

 

“Very well,” Lettice concedes. “I don’t like being the subject of gossip amongst my friends.”

 

“And you weren’t, Miss Chetwynd.” Mr. de Vries assures her. “The reasons behind what was on your mind were not entered into. Everyone knows how discreet dear Gerald is with your confidences and friendship. He’d never break that trust.”

 

Lettice sighs with relief. “Well one reason is why I have come to see you today, Mr. de Vries.” she explains as the proprietor turns his back on her and returns to his spot behind the counter, the silk of his kimono billowing behind him, wafting out traces of his musky and sweet eau de cologne.

 

“Moi?” Mr. de Vries asks, pressing his hand to his chest and posing like a melodramatic silent film actress. “Please, do tell me all about it, Miss Chetwynd.” he purrs. “I am nothing if not resourceful. Thinking of which, I’ll pour you a tea. Kettle’s not lomng boiled”

 

“Err… thank you, Mr. de Vries. Well,” Lettice wanders up to the counter and notices a small Primus stove***************** carefully discreeted in a corner, partially obscured by the edge of a built in shelf. “It’s my latest interior.”

 

“Yes, Miss Chetwynd?” Mr. de Vries probes as he pours tea from an ordinary and old Brown Betty****************** rather than a fine French or Russian porcelain teapot like she expected, into a fine china cup for her. “Who is your client?”

 

“It’s Dolly Hatchett.”

 

“What? The pretty wife of Charlie Hatchett, the MP for Tower Hamlets*******************?” he asks, a well-manicured eyebrow arching over his right eye as he looks at Lettice.

 

“The very same.” Lettice replies with a shallow nod. “She has commissioned me to redecorate several principle rooms on the first floor of the Hatchetts’ new Queen Anne’s Gate******************** townhouse to be used for entertaining.”

 

“She was a chorus girl, you know?” Mr. de Vries remarks as he hands Lettice her cup, saucer and teaspoon. “Help yourself to sucre,” he says using the French word for sugar as he indicates to where the sugar bowl sits, hidden amidst the dozens of interesting items clustered atop the counter. “And some lait.” He then goes on. “‘Chu Chin Chow was her last performance before she met dashing young Captain Hatchett during the War.”

 

“Yes, I did know, Mr. de Vries. The question is, how do you know so much about her?”

 

“Oh, a few friends and I took rather a fancy to her.” Mr. de Vries flaps his hand around flippantly through the air. “Besides, thank to you she is now one of Gerald’s most influential clients, so when he talks shop, things come out, don’t you know.” He coughs awkwardly. “You introduced them, I believe, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes, in early 1921. I did some interior designs for their house in Rotherfield and Mark Cross.”

 

“But now you’re designing for her London abode.”

 

“Indeed, and she has come a long way from being a chorus girl, Mr. de Vries, I assure you. The Mrs. Hatchett I know now is a far cry from the mousy and unsure little thing I met back then. She is self-assured, and she wants to be at the vanguard of fashion and hold salons, political for her husband and creative herself.”

 

“And thus, why she has re-engaged your services, Miss Chetwynd? To create a stylish interior that is modern, but not too modern, and stylish, so that she might impress her guests.”

 

“Exactly, Mr, de Vries. But I need that certain something… that… je ne sais quoi*********************, which only you can provide me with Mr. de Vries.”

 

“And what might that je ne sais quoi look like, Miss Chetwynd?”

 

“Well my décor is set. Walls papered in pale grey geometric patterns, soft furnishings in a greenish grey, accents of black japanned wood with a few carefully placed chinoiserie pieces. At Mrs. Hatchett’s request, a rater striking portrait of hers shall hang over the fireplace.”

 

“I imagine that would handsome indeed, Miss Chetwynd.”

 

“Indeed, it is, Mr, de Vries. I need a pair of something,” She glances around the shop looking as she lifts her teacup to her lips. “To stand alone on two plinths to either side of the fireplace, planking her portrait. Something striking, but not too striking to overpower the portrait. Nothing too fusty or frilly. Old, yet contemporary enough for my simplistic and modern interior.”

 

“My goodness Miss Chetwynd!” Mr. de Vries says, talking a sip of his own tea. “You do try and test even my skills as a purveyor of objet d’art.”

 

“And that is why I paid the six and six taxi fare to get here, Mr. de Vires.”

 

“Six and six!” the gentleman gasps, returning his delicate teacup to its equally dainty saucer.

 

“I know.”

 

“Took you the scenic route, evidently.”

 

“Yes, via the Grand Union Canal.”

 

“Goodness Miss Chetwynd!” Mr. de Vries opines. “He really did take you on the most circuitous route. How many times have I told you that the best way to visit my establishment is to travel along Hyde Park Place and the Bayswater Road to Notting Hill Gate.”

 

“I know, but the traffic along the Bayswater Road was impossible, Mr, de Vries!” Lettice defends. “You should have seen it! I felt I had no choice but to agree to the taxi driver.” Lettice pauses for a moment. “I still don’t understand why you aren’t somewhere more central, Mr. de Vries.” She waves her hands expansively around her at all the wonderful pieces fitted skilfully into the shop’s space. “You have so many treasures, and I’m sure that more people would visit you in Mayfair than here in Notting Hill.”

 

Mr. de Vries doesn’t answer Lettice immediately.

 

Behind his colourful, rather over the top and flamboyant façade, which he uses to charm, beguile and entertain the people of his acquaintance, the truth of Lancelot de Vries is a very well-guarded secret, known only by him, and he also uses the projection of his larger-than-life and rather eccentric personality to deflect unwanted questions or scrutiny. Not only is he a homosexual, an illegal offence punishable by imprisonment with hard labour**********************, which requires a great deal of careful discretion and subterfuge, his origins are also very different to what friends like Gerald and clients like Lettice think. Born Lapidot Landowska to Ashkenazi Orthodox Jewish*********************** parents recently arrived from Łódź in Poland in 1882 who had settled into a poky flat in Paddington, before moving to one of the former grand Victorian houses in Notting Hill that were slowly being converted at the time from luxury housing to boarding houses. Lapidot’s father was a clerk and his mother a housewife. Learning quickly as a young lad that his Orthodox Jewishness was not going to curry him any favours, he went to the library, to study the antiques he had discovered he liked after receiving some very basic tutoring from a local rag-and-bone man************************ who occasionally was given a nice piece of china or glassware. However, what he found of equal value as the knowledge he gained, was that thanks to his keen ear and ability for mimicry, he was able to start to speak like a real Englishman, rather than a Polish immigrant from Łódź. When he set up his antiques and collectables business in Notting Hill, he changed his name to Lancelot de Vries to rid himself of any last vestiges of his past. He took a lease on a shop that offered living quarters above it to allow him to live his own life and indulge in his proclivities he knew his parents nor any member of his Ashkenazi community would understand or accept, yet he still lived close enough to his parents to keep an eye on them and care for them in their dotage. Notting Hill also allowed him to remain in the Ashkenazi community he had grown up in. None of this friends from the world of antiques and art, or the underground world of homosexual clubs needed to know any of this, and he would have more credibility and clients as Lancelot de Vries, English gentleman, than as Lapidot Landowska the Jew.

 

“I promise, Miss Chetwynd that it will be worth the expense to Notting Hill, even a more costly and scenic one, to find you your perfect je ne sais quoi.”

 

Lettice sighs. “Thank you, Mr. de Vries.”

 

“Now, let me fetch you another cup of tea from the pot. Searching for that certain je ne sais quoi can take time. I’m sure I have some Kamishbrot************************ here too to sate any hunger whilst fossicking.”

 

“Kamishbrot?” Lettice queries. “That sounds like a German dish.”

 

Realising his faux pas as mentioning the name of the kosher biscuits baked by the local European Ashkenazi community in Notting Hill that he ate as a child and still does in adulthood, Mr. de Vries quickly covers it up, “Well there are some Eastern European people who live hereabouts in Notting Hill, and there is a rather lovely almond biscuit that a local baker supplies which apparently comes from a very old recipe of a local lady. I’m quite partial to them, and I’m sure you will enjoy them too, Miss Chetwynd.” He smiles at her. “Now why don’t you start looking, whilst I find the biscuit sachet*************************.”

 

And so, Lettice begins the pleasurable task of finding her certain je ne sais quoi as she begins to peruse the fine porcelain and objet d’art on Mr. de Vries’ shelves.

 

*Tyburnia is an affluent residential district in Paddington, London, located north of Hyde Park. Developed from 1824 based on a masterplan by Samuel Pepys Cockerell, it was designed to be an upper-class rival to Belgravia. The area is known for its elegant, cream-stuccoed, Georgian and Victorian townhouses, leafy squares, and prestigious, quiet streets, unlike neighbouring Paddington, which when from middle class aspirations to having some of the worst slims on London by the 1920s, Tyburnia retained its wealthy, respectable character through the 1920s. The area was populated by affluent merchants, professionals, and notable figures (Winston Churchill lived in Sussex Square in Tyburnia in the early 1920s).

 

**Westbourne Green (a housing subdivision in Paddington) not considered a wealthy suburb in the 1920s. While the wider Paddington and Bayswater areas contained wealthy pockets, Westbourne Green had transitioned from its earlier rural charm and then wealthy Victorian subdivision into a heavily populated, working-class district. By the 1920s, the area suffered from social decline, high-density overcrowding, and poverty. The large Victorian townhouses of Westbourne Greeb’s more affluent period were frequently subdivided into cheap, multi-occupancy rentals to house working-class families.

 

***In the 1920s, Notting Hill was a transitioning neighbourhood. With a sharp decline in domestic staff following the Great War, affluent servant-employing families abandoned their grand Victorian homes. These properties were carved up into smaller apartments and boarding houses, drawing a transient, working-class demographic. The physical decay of certain sections led to cheap rents, which attracted artists, bohemian thinkers, and writers who mixed with the local working-class residents, slowly transforming Notting Hill into a Bohemian area which would flourish in the coming decades. In spite of the changing demographic, Notting Hill Gate, the central thoroughfare was still viewed as one of London's fashionable shopping districts. It featured thriving department stores and easy connections via the Metropolitan Railway and Central Line. The famous Portobello Market, having started as a simple fruit and vegetable market in the Nineteenth Century, by the 1920s marked an era of aggressive expansion, with a growing number of antique vendors setting up stalls. It also began expanding rapidly to a six days a week market.

 

****In the 1920s, Portobello Road was a bustling, working-class hub in Notting Hill, London. Originally established to sell fresh food and daily essentials, the area featured legendary sites like the Electric Cinema—one of the UK's first cinemas—and famously provided inexpensive lodgings to the author George Orwell in 1927.b The antiques we know Portobello Road for today began its germination in the 1920s, becoming a mainstay and attraction by the 1930s.

 

*****The primary structure above a shop window where the main sign is attached is called a fascia (or fascia sign). If there is an awning, this same flat area on the front face of the awning is often called the awning fascia.

 

******The Grand Union Canal is a one-hundred-and-thirty-seven-mile waterway connecting London to Birmingham. In the capital, it features two primary routes: the historic mainline ending at Brentford (River Thames) and the Paddington Arm, which terminates near Paddington Station. A pretty and tranquil place to stroll in the day, the towpaths are highly popular today for walking, cycling, and leisure boating.

 

******In the 1920s, antique shops were commonly referred to as curiosity shops, antiquaries, or bric-à-brac shops. These spaces often served as a hybrid between a museum and a retail store, where dealers sold a mixed variety of historical relics, estate furniture, and decorative knick-knacks.

 

*******A worker's flat cap is a traditional, rounded cap with a small, stiff brim in front, historically worn by working-class men in the UK, Ireland, and North America from the Fourteenth Century onwards. In 1571, the English government mandated that all males over six (except nobility) wear a wool cap on Sundays and holidays to boost the wool industry, solidifying the flat cap's status as a working-class staple. Over time, it became a symbol of working-class culture, often associated with the phrase "flat cap and whippet," before also being adopted for leisure activities like golf. It was designed to be practical for manual labour—worn by farmers, miners, and factory workers — providing weather protection. It is known for its simple, rounded shape, which can be pulled forward for extra protection against the wind. Made typically of wool, tweed, or cotton, it was favoured for its durability, affordability, and warmth.

 

********“Gravestone teeth” is descriptive term used, unkindly, to describe an eerie, uneven, or menacing smile, where teeth are often crowded together like gravestones in a churchyard , and are often grey due to poor dental hygiene.

 

*********Goddard's Silver Polish was first invented in 1839. During the 1830s, electroplated silverware became highly popular. However, the standard polishes of the era contained harsh abrasives or mercury, which quickly stripped and ruined the delicate, thin silver plating. After numerous attempts, Joseph Goddard perfected a gentle formula in 1839 that safely removed tarnish without wearing away the silver. His invention became highly successful, earning six gold medals for excellence at the 1885 American Exposition. The brand expanded internationally and was even chosen to clean the British Royal Crown. Today, Goddard's continues to produce a wide variety of fine metal care, jewelry, and wood furniture polishes based on this tradition.

 

**********An epergne is a large, ornate dining table centrepiece, usually made of silver, glass, or porcelain. It features a large central bowl or vase with multiple branching arms that hold smaller dishes, baskets, or candleholders. They were very popular during the Victorian era when a lavish table display, including flowers, displayed your wealth and status.

 

***********A cottage orné pastille burner is an antique, decorative ceramic vessel designed to look like a rustic, highly stylized country cottage. Popular in the late 18th and 19th centuries, they were used as room deodorizers to burn "pastilles"—small cones of incense made from charcoal, essential oils, and gum arabic.

 

************Provenance refers to the origin, source, or the historical "chain of custody" of an item or record. It details where something came from, who created it, and its complete history of ownership or location over time.

 

*************The ornate, hand-embroidered indoor caps worn by Victorian men around the house were known as smoking caps or lounging caps. They were worn indoors to keep a gentleman's head warm and to protect his hair and everyday clothes from the pungent smell of tobacco ash and smoke. In the Victorian era, it was considered highly improper to smoke in front of women. Men would retire to a designated smoking room, changing into a comfortable smoking jacket and cap before indulging. Smoking caps were generally shaped like a squat, brimless cylinder (often resembling a pillbox or a soft version of an Eastern fez). They were typically made of luxurious fabrics like velvet or silk, heavily embroidered in bright or gaudy colours, and topped with a dangling tassel. They were rarely bought in stores. Often, they were lovingly made by wives or young ladies as gifts for their fiancés or husbands, allowing them to showcase their embroidery skills.

 

**************In the 1920s, a common remedy to soothe tired, strained eyes was the eye bath. People used small, specially shaped glass or porcelain cups filled with a mild medicated solution—often a diluted mixture of boric acid and water. Boric acid is a naturally occurring compound of boron, oxygen, and hydrogen. It typically appears as an odorless, white powder or colourless crystal. It is widely used in homes today as an insecticide, in medicine for vaginal health, and in various industrial and manufacturing processes.

 

***************Contrary to popular belief, men in the 1920s often got manicures, and it wasn’t seen as being unmanly. Well-groomed hands were an essential part of a refined, high-society image for men. Rather than being a strictly feminine indulgence, professional nail care and "visiting manicures" were incredibly popular among men in this era.

 

****************The Hambone Club (known by its patients more colloquially as The Ham Bone) was one of Soho's many discreetly hidden-away bohemian and gay-friendly clubs that catered to artists and outcasts of the era.

 

*****************A Primus stove is a highly popular, portable outdoor stove designed for camping, backpacking, and expeditions. Originating in Sweden in 1892, it was the first pressurized-burner kerosene stove. Today, the term refers to a wide range of modern, high-efficiency camping and backpacking stoves manufactured by the Swedish brand Primus.

 

******************A Brown Betty is a type of teapot, round and with a manganese brown glaze known as Rockingham glaze. In the Victorian era, when tea was at its peak of popularity, tea brewed in the Brown Betty was considered excellent. This was attributed to the design of the pot which allowed the tea leaves more freedom to swirl around as the water was poured into the pot, releasing more flavour with less bitterness.

 

*******************The London constituency of Tower Hamlets includes such areas and historic towns as (roughly from west to east) Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Bethnal Green, Wapping, Shadwell, Mile End, Stepney, Limehouse, Old Ford, Bow, Bromley, Poplar, and the Isle of Dogs (with Millwall, the West India Docks, and Cubitt Town), making it a majority working class constituency in 1925 when this story is set. Tower Hamlets included some of the worst slums and societal issues of inequality and poverty in England at that time.

 

********************Queen Anne’s Gate is a street in Westminster, London. Many of the buildings are Grade I listed, known for their Queen Anne architecture. Simon Bradley and Nikolaus Pevsner described the Gate’s early Eighteenth Century houses as “the best of their kind in London.” The street’s proximity to the Palace of Westminster made it a popular residential area for politicians.

 

********************‘Chu Chin Chow’ is a musical comedy written, produced and directed by Oscar Asche, with music by Frederic Norton, based on the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. It was the most popular show in London’s West End during the Great War. It premiered at His Majesty’s Theatre in London on the 3rd of August 1916 and ran for 2,238 performances, a record number that stood for nearly forty years!

 

*********************Je ne sais quoi is a French phrase used in English to describe a little, (indescribable) something which cannot be pinpointed. A little 'I don't know what'. “Je ne sais quoi” translates directly from the French as “I don't know what”.

 

**********************Prior to 1967 with the introduction of the Sexual Offences Act which decriminalised private homosexual acts between men aged over twenty-one, homosexuality in England was illegal, and in the 1920s when this story is set, carried heavy penalties including prison sentences with hard labour. The law was not changed for Scotland until 1980, or for Northern Ireland until 1982.

 

***********************An Ashkenazi Orthodox Jew is someone who strictly observes traditional Jewish law (Halakha) and adheres to the cultural and liturgical customs developed by Jews of Central and Eastern European (Ashkenazi) descent. This combines the religious adherence of Orthodoxy with a specific geographical and cultural heritage.

 

************************A "rag-and-bone man" (historically also called a totter) is a traditional British occupation. It refers to a person who travels door-to-door, typically on foot or with a horse and cart, collecting discarded household items—such as old clothing, rags, scrap metal, and bones—to sell for recycling or reuse.

 

************************One of the most authentic and enduring traditional kosher biscuits made in England in the 1920s is Mandelbrot (often called Mandel Bread or Kamishbrot). Deeply embedded in Anglo-Jewish baking culture, particularly among the Eastern European Ashkenazi communities who settled in London’s East End during that era, Mandelbrot is traditionally a crisp, twice-baked almond biscuit. As kosher dietary laws (kashrut) forbid mixing dairy and meat, these biscuits were specifically created using oil or margarine instead of butter. This allowed the Jewish community to enjoy them with afternoon tea, even after a meat-based Sabbath or holiday meal.

 

************************A biscuit sachet is an antique, hinged serving container—usually made of sterling silver or silver plate—designed to hold and display biscuits at the dining table. They were especially popular in Victorian and Edwardian England. During the Nineteenth Century, serving biscuits with tea or dessert was a mark of high social standing. Rather than keeping them in a traditional closed box, hosts used a biscuit sachet on the dining table or sideboard so guests could easily select a biscuit while keeping them elegantly arranged. They typically feature a hinged mechanism that allows the two halves of the sachet to open and lay flat. When opened, they fan out to reveal an internal fan, rack, or grill that holds biscuits upright. These pieces were highly decorative. Common designs feature embossed or chased scrollwork, floral motifs, or highly sought-after novelty shapes like scallop shells.

 

This cluttered antiques, curios and collectables shop may appear real to you, and you might even like to have a fossick in it as I would, but the fact is that it is entirely made up of pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection, including items from my own childhood.

 

There are more than one hundred and fifty individual items of decorative porcelain and glassware in this scene, and it took hours to set it all up. It would be difficult to describe everything and identify where it all came from, but there are some very special pieces here which I will point out.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The pair of statues standing on the counter: the Gentleman with the Butterfly and the lady with a Bird are made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces, The pair have been hand painted and gilded by me. There is a further gentleman statue inside the central glass fronted counter made by Warwick Miniatures and painted by me, as well as a pair of smaller statues on the edge of the sideboard at the right of the photo in the foreground, and a brightly painted Mandarin statue on the small black japanned occasional table to the left of the sideboard.

 

The dainty swan decorated with blue and yellow petunias on the counter and the small boot filled with purple petunias behind it have been hand made and painted by 1:12 miniature ceramicist Ann Dalton. A small ornamental vase decorated with purple petunias and two ornamental vases of blue, purple and yellow petunias can be seen on the round table to the far left of the picture in the foreground. Other pieces of hers can be seen on the central countertop, and on the second to top and bottom shelf in the back left hand of the photograph.

 

The Eighteen Century style cow statue surrounded by roses on the round table at the right in the foreground, and an Eighteenth Century gentleman standing on the right-hand stork pillar are made by British miniature ceramicist, Kay Lewis.

 

The tall jug decorated with a red poppy to the left Kay Lewis’ Eighteenth Century gentleman, standing on the countertop has been designed by the English miniature ceramic artist, Rachael Munday, whose work is always of high quality and highly sought after by miniature collectors around the world. The floral teapot to the far left of the counter, partially obscured by the left-hand stirk pillar is also made by her. In addition, these pieces there are also several more scattered across the shelves in the background and in the glass fronted central cabinet. The plates hanging on the wallpaper in the background are also decorated by Rachael Munday.

 

The dainty flower decorated ornamental candlestick next to the Rachael Munday jug and the ink well set near the centre of the glass topped counter were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, but hand painted by British miniature artisan Victoria Fasken.

 

The tall cranberry glass vase with the barley twist decoration on the left hand swan plinth has been made by miniature glass artisan Philip Grenyer. He also made the two fluted cranberry glass vases seen in the bottom right hand corner of the glass fronted cabinet at the centre of the image.

 

The cottage orné pastille burner and the Staffordshire cows in the background on the third shelf from the top of the units to the left-hand side of the photograph have been hand made, painted and gilded by Welsh miniature ceramist Rachel Williams who has her own studio, V&R Miniatures, in Powys. Also made by Rachel Williams are the foxes on the sideboard in the foreground to the right of the photograph and the castle shaped pastille burner behind the two Warwick Miniature statues on the same sideboard, and the Prince of Wales vase in the bottom left-hand corner of the central glass fronted counter.

 

The green Wedgwood style vase on the floor to the left of the photograph and the two black Dragonware vases also on the floor I have had since I acquired them from an antique car boot sale when I was a child. These pieces are all old. The Wedgwood is likely Victorian and the two Dragonware vases are from around 1900 to 1905.

 

The jewellery casket behind the Wedgwood Jasperware look teapot on the countertop is in reality an Eighteenth Century miniature trinket made of gold and enamel. It is so dainty. The lid opens and one could store something incredibly small in it (like a handful of diamond chips), and there is a loop (hidden at the back) which allows it to be strung upon a chain. I picked this piece up from an antique dealer in London many years ago.

 

The four Limoges vases on the countertop to the right were all made by by M.W. Reutter Porzellanfabrik in Germany, who specialise in making high quality porcelain miniatures. Other pieces by them include the urn, the bowl and the vase on the table to the left of the photograph in the midground, the floral vase in the floor at the foot of the glass counter, the cake plate to the bottom right-hand corner of the photograph. Pieces by M.W. Reutter Porzellanfabrik are also littered along all the shelves in the background.

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