Millinery
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On the northeast corner of W. Main and Race St., across the street from the Bennett Building (drug store) featured earlier in this series, is the Cohen Building. Completed in 1907, the classical revival style structure was designed by Urbana architect Joseph W. Royer (1873-1954), a University of Illinois School of Architecture graduate and the man who designed the magnificent Champaign County Courthouse.
When it opened in 1907, the Cohen Building contained many different businesses, such as Nathan Cohen’s cigar factory on the second floor, offices at the street level, an ice cream and candy store on the east side with an adjacent barber shop, and the Urbana Banking Company’s headquarters in the corner. A tailor shop was added in 1909 at the back of the building while the same previous businesses remained After Cohen retired from the cigar business in 1913, the full expansion of the offices, bank and commercial stores was established. The Cohen building continues as a professional office and commercial building.
To the east (right) of the Cohen Building are two single story buildings connected by a common wall. Both buildings were completed in 1885 and are nearly identical in detailing. 130 W. Main, next to the Cohen Building, historically was a millinery shop and barber shop, and is now a legal office. The building next to it at 126 W. Main, historically was a flower shop, and is now a restaurant known as the Dancing Dog Eatery and Juicery.
The Cohen Building, along with 130 W. Main and 126 W. Main lie within the Joseph W. Royer Arts and Architecture District in the heart of old Urbana, and are contributing buildings within the Downtown Urbana Historic District listed in 2019 on the National Register of Historic Places.
Urbana is the seat of Champaign County. Located in east central Illinois, the twin cities of Urbana and Champaign are the home of the University of Illinois. The population of Champaign County at the 2020 census was 205,865.
"A woman can be overdressed but never over elegant." – Gabrielle (Coco) Chanel
The theme for “Smile on Saturday” for the 28th of May is “headwear in square”, which can be any kind of headwear, so long as it is cropped into a square image. Anyone who follows my photostream knows that I love and collect 1:12 size miniatures which I photograph in realistic scenes. The artifice of recreating in minute detail items in 1:12 scale always amazes me, and it’s amazing how the eye can be fooled. Therefore, when the theme came up, I immediately thought of some of my miniature artisan hats, which really are exquisite little pieces of art in their own right. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that one would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, makes them an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable. I have selected five of my favourites for you today. I hope you like my choice for the theme this week, and that it makes you smile.
Going clockwise from the top left-hand corner:
“Shona” (yes, this hat actually has a name, just like hats from the Golden Age of Fashion) is a purple Edwardian toque in the style popular just before and after the Great War. Made of soft velvet, she is covered in silk flowers and lace and is made by Miss Amelia’s Miniatures in the Canary Islands. It is an artisan miniature made just like a real hat, right down to a tag in the inside of the crown to show where the back of the hat is!
The camel coloured wide brimmed Edwardian picture hat is made of brown felt and is trimmed with miniature coffee coloured braid. The brim is decorated with hand curled feathers, dyed to match the shade of the hat, as well as a spray of golden “grapes” and dyed flowers. Acquired from an American miniatures collector who was divesting herself of some of her collection, I am unsure who the maker was, other than both this and the green hat were made by the same American miniature artisan.
The romantic cream wide brimmed summer hat decorated with pink satin roses and ribbons, and trimmed on the underside with the finest lace, is reminiscent of the style of hats worn and made popular by the Queen Mother (then the newly minted Duchess of York) in the mid 1920s. The maker for this hat is unknown, but it is a part of a larger collection of 1:12 artisan hats and miniature accessories I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The yellow straw hat decorated with ornamental flowers and an organza ribbon of lemon yellow is of late 1920s to early 1930s style. The maker for this hat is also unknown, but is another piece from the collection I bought from American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The green coloured wide brimmed Edwardian picture hat is made of bright green felt and is trimmed with miniature turquoise coloured braid. The brim is decorated with hand curled feathers, dyed to match the shade of the hat, as well as a spray of silver silk flowers. Acquired from an American miniatures collector who was divesting herself of some of her collection, I am unsure who the maker was, other than both this and the camel hat were made by the same American miniature artisan.
By Emma Moscow displayed at Open Studio at Proteus Arts Centre Basingstoke. www.emmamoscowmillinery.co.uk/bespoke-millinery/
The We're Here! gang is looking for shopping carts in the wild today. This is staged (obvi) so I won't put it in the shopping cart group...
The story behind this little trolly:
My lifelong friend Robin and I, in our late teens (or was it early 20s?), used to roam about in Vancouver's East End late at night. We liked walking up and down the alleys and residential streets -- you always saw interesting things. Almost every time we did this, we found shopping carts lying about. If we didn't see one right away, we would stand on a corner and bellow, "SHOPPING CAAAAAART!" We would always find one right after doing that. No, seriously!
One of us would get in the shopping cart, and the other would push. We would take turns pushing each other up and down the streets, laughing like maniacs. Many years later, she gave me this cute little shopping cart to remind me of those fun times.
The #MacroMondays #Swag challenge
A 1cm square lapel badge from the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, superglued to my rucksack. They fall off, y'know. A nice lady at one of their reserves insisted I took it when I presented my membership card to gain entry one morning.
Upper class Victorian ladies liked birds. Or, more accurately, they liked their plumage and, let's face it, a bird does not last long without it, particularly when they are shot to obtain it. Emily Williamson liked birds too, but she preferred them to be in one piece and flapping a bit. In 1889 she and a number of like-minded other ladies created The Society for the Protection of Birds, specifically to oppose the fashion for the murderous millinery which allowed the hats of the more fashionable ladies in society to be adorned with the gorgeous feathers of great crested grebes, egrets, birds of paradise and the like. After all, the male-only British Ornithologists Union was doing nothing about it. So it was left to the ladies to write to the papers, speak to shopkeepers who stocked feathers, contact those who wore them and to persuade the greatest fashion-setters of the age, The Royal Family, to change their own taste in hats. Progress was made. In 1899, Queen Victoria instructed those of her regiments which wore osprey feathers in their headdress to stop doing so. 10 years after it started, the campaign was clearly gaining traction.
In quite rapid order (1904) the society gained Royal Charter status and in 1921 The Importation of Plumage (Prohibition) Act was passed. It was a good start, but great crested grebes are as British as robins and sparrows are, so their plumes did not have to be imported. Still work to do then, but this was the first successful campaign by the RSPB. From that humble yet important single issue beginning, the RSPB has evolved into an influential organisation with a membership of over a million. It speaks for our birds and thereby indirectly for all flora and fauna, exerting pressure home and abroad, running over 170 reserves in the UK. Access to reserves is free to members and is a cheap (or is that cheep?) day out for others.
The stylised bird used for its logo is an avocet a bird extinct in the UK before it bred at RSPB Minsmere and which is now widespread enough to be seen with pleasure but not much surprise from train journeys where the tracks pass through the appropriate habitats.
Another success attaches to ospreys, which, having been persecuted to extinction in the UK, unexpectedly returned to breed at Loch Garten in 1954. Egg collectors raided their nest, but undeterred the birds returned the following year. The RSPB mounted a 24/7 guard on the nest, resulting in a successful breeding season. Although still scarce, ospreys, summer migrants to the UK and at the very north of their range, now breed at various places throughout the UK. The organisation also encouraged marsh harriers to breed at and spread from Minsmere. In 1971 that reserve had the UK's only breeding pair. Today there are around 600 pairs at various sites, still a very scarce bird, but improving. The RSPB was also involved in the successful reintroduction of red kites in The Chilterns. I now see them fairly regularly 100 miles away. Avocets and red kites are no longer on the UK conservation red list, but there is no reason for complacency. Of all birds, the house sparrow is regarded as common, yet its numbers have crashed and it was added to the red list on the very day the red kite was taken off it.
Incidentally, Minsmere has a cafe which serves quite superb cakes. It's almost a pity to leave them behind to actually do a bit of birdwatching, but I digress. The photo was taken as shown using 32mm of extension tubes. It's a colour photo of a very monochrome subject.
HMM all.
William Chambers Millinery shoot for Indicate Magazine.
Model: Vivi
Make-up: Kaeleigh Wallace
Milliner: William Chambers
Issue 6
Prints for sale
Either Flicr mail me or e-mail me at Indykitty1@hotmail.com
made with vintage millinery sourced on my recent trip to cali! each is one of a kind... the woodland one is one of my favorites (center,) but they are all special.
Women in a millinery shop, Sydney, I July 1952, ON 388/Box 059/Item 115 collection.sl.nsw.gov.au/record/nZNWbXEn/xDlW5DBxlBD6w
inside an old crumpled brown checkbook box i found a bundle of tissue paper and this is what was inside!
happy day
Hat Making book by publisher Ondori (Japan), I think it is created by Clover Japan to promote their Hat template kits (they have two kits in retail - one for caps and one for hats). Sorry I cant read Japanese.
ISBN978-4-277-49057-3. I bought this book at Kinokuniya bookstore at SDG$7.50.
Clover Japan website www.clover.co.jp
Collaboration between myself and Hilda Westervelt (Bellissima Couture) for Live Auction at "Kenvention" 2015
Starting this week with a flourish of scintillating confections, exuberant creations, magnificent millinery, and beautiful women at a wedding in Donegal. Our long time expert on matters millinery, La Belle Province, would be able to give us chapter and verse on these? Mr. Bardy of Lifford in Donegal ordered the photograph, but did Mr. Poole travel there, or did the Bardys take the long trip down to Waterford?
Photographer: A. H. Poole
Collection: Poole Photographic Collection, Waterford
Date: ca. Wednesday, 7 August 1901
NLI Ref: POOLEWP 1184a
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
Sweet pink velvet ribbon and millinery flowers.
Part of my blog series "Treasures From Grandma's Attic".
William Chambers Millinery shoot for Indicate Magazine.
Model: Vivi
Make-up: Kaeleigh Wallace
Milliner: William Chambers
indicatemagazine.co.uk/
Issue 6
Prints for sale
Either Flicr mail me or e-mail me at Indykitty1@hotmail.com
William Chambers Millinery shoot for Indicate Magazine.
Model: Vivi
Make-up: Kaeleigh Wallace
Milliner: William Chambers
Issue 6
Prints for sale
Either Flicr mail me or e-mail me at Indykitty1@hotmail.com
I think romance must be in the air, I sculpted this pair from paper clay and perched them upon a fancy paper mache box. The arch is made from painted wire and embellished with lots of sweet little vintage millinery forget me nots. This would make a sweet little cake topper for a sweet couple!
Collaboration between myself and Hilda Westervelt (Bellissima Couture) for Live Auction at "Kenvention" 2015
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 however, we are south of the Thames in the middle-class London suburb of Putney in the front room of a red brick Edwardian villa in Hazelwood Road, where Lettice has come to see her childhood chum Gerald’s friend, Harriet Milford. The orphaned daughter of a solicitor with little formal education, Harriet has taken in theatrical lodgers to earn a living, but more importantly for Lettice, has taken up millinery semi-professionally to give her some pin money*. As Harriet made Lettice a fetching picture hat for her brother Leslie’s wedding in November, Lettice thought that Harriet might benefit as much from her patronage as Lettice herself will by commissioning a new millinery creation for the wedding of Lettice’s friend Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon** who is marrying the Duke of York*** in a few months.
As the taxi she has taken from Mayfair putters away down the street, Lettice pushes on the black painted wrought iron gate flanked by two capped red brick pillars. It protests shrilly with the squeal of hinges as she opens it. She sighs and walks up the garden path snaking across a well clipped lawn. Lettice can hear the notes of an oboe being played as she walks.
“Coo-ee, Lettice darling!” comes a bright, rather effeminate call from above as the oboe music abruptly stops. Shading her eyes from the sun as she looks up, and peers to the roofline where she can see Cyril, one of Harriet’s theatrical lodgers, leaning out of his open oriel bedroom window above, waving madly. “Hattie! Hattie, Lettice is here!” he calls down over his shoulder. As well as being Harriet’s tenant, it has also come to light in more recent times that he is Gerald’s younger lover, and Lettice worries about Cyril’s indiscretion at being a homosexual, in comparison to Gerald who is very appropriately circumspect about his inclinations.
Without replying, she smiles and waves weakly in an understated way, embarrassed at being called to from above like a butcher’s boy or some other domestic. She glances around to make sure no-one has seen the interaction, not that there would be anyone she would likely know or run into in her upper-class circles in middle-class Hazelwood Road, Putney.
She goes to depress the doorbell next to the front door, but as she does, it is flung open exuberantly by Harriet, her mousy brown hair framing her pretty face, her bright print frock covered by a white cotton pinny, looking rather like the maids Lettice is used to answering doors for her, rather than mistress of the house she is about to enter. “How do you do, Miss Chetwynd!” she says brightly.
“Miss Milford.” Lettice replies with a pinched smile and a curt not of her head.
“Lord love Cyril, eh?” Harriet beams, glancing up, wincing into the unusually sunny sky above. “Who needs a doorbell when you can have an oboist trumpet your arrival. Right, Miss Chetwynd?”
“Err, quite.” Lettice says awkwardly.
“Right this way Miss Chetwynd.” Harriet says with a genuine smile of pleasure at receiving Lettice. “Well, you know the way.” she adds, flinging open the first door on the left side of the hallway and indicating with an extended arm for Lettice to enter her parlour cum salon. “I’ve got the kettle on already, and you can be the first to sample my freshly made fruitcake.”
“The second, actually, Hattie.” a rather deep and drooping male voice annunciates clearly. From behind Harriet’s shoulder, a mature man with white hair and an impressive, expertly waxed handlebar moustache appears dressed in full evening attire with a top hat in his hand. “I just appropriated a slice from the kitchen table on my way out. Good of you to cut it for me in anticipation of my expedient departure.”
“Oh you cheeky boy!” Harriet slaps the older gentleman on the forearm playfully. “Without even so much as a by-your leave!”
Eyeing Lettice standing in the hallway dressed in her powder blue three quarter length coat and matching hat with a large arctic fox fur wrapped around her neck and draped down her front, the man asks, “And who have we here Hattie, my dear? An ingénue come to steal away the hearts of your bevvy of lead actors?”
“No lady will ever steal your heart away!” she scoffs.
“Never a truer word was spoken, my dear.” He puts a hand to his mouth. “But a great thespian can put on a convincing act.”
“Miss Chetwynd, may I present Mr. Charles Dunnage.” Harriet announces. “Charles, this is the Honourable Miss Lettice Chetwynd.”
“The honour,” Charles replies. “Is all mine, dear lady.” Taking up Lettice’s kid glove clad hand in his own white evening glove clad ones, he raises it dramatically to his lips and kisses it.
“Oh, get away with you, Charles!” Harriet laughs. “We don’t want Miss Chetwynd thinking she’s entered a home for retired theatrical lunatics.” She turns to Lettice. “Sorry, Miss Chetwynd. Charles is a Shakespearean actor at the Old Vic****. I…”
“How many times must I tell you, Hattie!” Charles huffs irritably, suddenly animating his shoulders, making them rise and fall with every syllable. “I’m a thespian,” He emphasises the word with reverence. “Not an actor.” He spits the last word out like an insult. “He’s an actor.” He points upwards with his cane to the plastered ceiling above, where the sound of Cyril’s oboe playing can be heard. “Only true thespians can perform the works of the Great Bard. Anyone can be an actor, and anyone is!” He arches his eyebrows, causing her brow to furrow in folds of pale white flesh.
The oboe playing stops. “I can hear you, you know, Charlie Boy!” Cyril calls down from above.
Charles shudders. “Like I was saying, my dears,” he pronounces loudly so that Cyril can hear. “Anyone can be an actor, however only some of us have the strength of character to be a thespian!” Looking at Lettice he continues conspiratorially in a more moderately toned voice. “My dear Miss Chetwynd, I suggest you flee this den of iniquity and retreat to the salubrious surrounds from whence you came, before you are swept into the maelstrom of actors that pass through this door.”
Stunned into silence by his dramatic and verbose statement, Lettice can only look the older man in the face with wide eyes and a closed mouth.
“Oh get on with you, Charles,” Harriet laughs good naturedly. “Or you’ll be late for rehearsals. You don’t want to miss your train. When shall I be expecting you?”
“I’ll be home around eleven, my dear, but don’t feel you have to wait up. I have my latch key.” He reached into his pocket and pulls out a key tied to a russet coloured ribbon which he dangles from his finger.
“Right you are then, Charles. See you later then.”
And with a bow, the older man dons his top hat and sweeps down the garden path, his black evening cape billowing behind him.
“You must really think I run a theatrical madhouse, Miss Chetwynd.” Harriet says apologetically with a shake of her head as both women watch Charles slip out the gate. “Please do go in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a jiffy***** with tea and what cake is left that Charles hasn’t yet consumed.”
Stepping across the threshold of the room, Lettice’s critical eye again glances around the front parlour of the Putney villa, which doubles as Harriet’s sewing room and show room for her hats. She crinkles her nose in distaste. She finds the room’s middle-class chintzy décor an affront to her up-to-date interior design sensitivities, with its flouncy floral Edwardian sofa and roomy armchair by the fire, a pouffe hand embroidered by Harriet’s deceased mother and the busy Edwardian floral wallpaper covered with a mixture of cheap botanical prints and quaint English country scenes, all in gaudy gilded plaster frames. Yet what makes it even worse is that it seems that no attempt has been made to tidy the room in spite of Lettice and Gerald’s constant nagging of Harriet to present her hats in an orderly space. Harriet’s concertina sewing box on casters still stands cascaded open next to the armchair, threads, embroidery silks, buttons and ribbons pouring from its compartments like entrails. Hats in different stages of being made up and decorated lie about on furniture or on the floor in a haphazard way along with baskets of millinery provisions. The brightly patterned rug is littered with spools of cotton, scissors, ribbon, artificial flowers and dogeared copies of Weldon’s****** magazines. Lettice usually sits on the rather lumpy and sagging overstuffed sofa, but today that is an impossibility, with the seats covered in cardboard hat boxs spewing forth a froth of white tissue paper and hats stacked upon them. She sighs irritably and remains standing amidst the chaos of the room, unable to take a seat.
“I really am grateful that you’ve come back to see me again, Miss Chetwynd!” Harriet gushes as she steps across the threshold into the parlour carrying her wooden tray on which stand tea things for two and a silver platter with several slices of dark fruitcake on it. “You were true to your word, telling people at your brother’s wedding about who made your hat, and I’ve already had an order from a Mrs. Minchinbury and her sister, Miss Rentoul.”
Harriet unloads the teapot, milk jug and sugar bowl onto a small hexagonal Indian table, and whilst balancing the tray on the edge of her deceased father’s former chess table, she pushes aside cotton threads, ribbons, a tape measure and a pair of scissors in the shape of a stork with her elbow to make room for the teacups and the tray of fruitcake slices, which Lettice notices rest upon a pretty lace doily.
“Ahh yes, they are my second cousins on my mother’s side.” Lettice says.
“And a Miss Eglantine Chetwynd from Little Venice, who I believe is your aunt.”
“She is, Miss Milford.” Lettice smiles.
“Please do sit down, Miss Chetwynd,” Harriet says as she leans the tray against the flounced edge of the sofa. “There’s no need to stand on ceremony here.”
“I’d be happy to, if only I had a place to sit, Miss Milford.” Lettice remarks crisply.
“Oh!” Harriet’s eyes grow wide. “Sorry, Miss Chetwynd,” she mutters apologetically as she quickly whisks a tangle of ribbons off the salon chair she uses when at her sewing machine onto the floor and draws it up to the Indian and chess tables. “I know you and Gerry keep telling me, but, well as you can see, I still haven’t had an opportunity to tidy up in here yet. I just don’t seem to get the time.”
“It’s of no consequence, Miss Milford, so long as I can sit.” Lettice lies as she perches on the salon chair and hangs her crocodile skin handbag over its arm. “And I would imagine my Aunt Egg would have rather enjoyed the chaos of your theatrical household.”
“She did, Miss Chetwynd.” Harriet admits with a shy smile and a nod.
“Shall I be mother******* then, Miss Milford?” Lettice asks poignantly staring at the teapot.
“Oh no, Miss Chetwynd,” Harriet springs from her own seat in the overstuffed armchair. “I’ll do it.”
Resuming her line of conversation whilst Harriet pours tea into the two pre-war Edwardian style cups, Lettice says, “Of course Aunt Egg would like this because she is an artist. However the likes of my cousins, or some of the finer people, even more exalted and refined, you may yet encounter doubtless wouldn’t approve,” She waves her hand around her. “Of all this.”
“Well, Gerry tells me that I should give this place up and move to your side of the river.”
“Gerald’s suggestion is quite a prudent one, Miss Milford.” Lettice replies, taking her teacup and saucer and placing them on the closed lid of the top layer of Harriet’s concertina sewing box.
“But I can’t afford that,” Harriet admits as she resumes her own seat. “At least not until I know my hat making can support me.”
“Then I strongly suggest that you take Gerald’s and my advice and make the time to tidy up in here.” Lettice takes a sip of tea. “Not to be unkind, Miss Milford, but it’s slovenly, and if you want to be taken seriously as a milliner, you need to present a professional front. Surely there is an equally light and spacious room upstairs you can use as a workroom.”
“You’re quite right, Miss Chetwynd. That wasn’t unkind at all. It’s the truth,” She looks guiltily at Lettice. “And I know it. I’ll do better. I promise.”
“I should hope so, Miss Milford, for I have a commission for you, and if you take it up, which I hope you will,” Lettice pauses for a moment for impact. “It could lead to many more commissions from much finer people than my second cousins.”
“I’ll be delighted to accept, Miss Chetwynd.” Harriet says, moving forward slightly on her chair, her teacup and saucer perched on her knee, help in place by her hand. “What do you wish to commission?”
“Before I tell you, do I have your solemn promise of secrecy, at least for the time being?”
“Yes of course, Miss Chetwynd.” Harriet’s brow furrows with concern. “What on earth is it you want?”
“My friend, Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, is going to marry the Duke of York in a few months.”
“But the papers say she is supposed to marry the Prince of Wales********.”
“It’s not been officially announced yet,” Lettice interrupts Harriet’s spurt of unfounded gossip. “But it will be very shortly, that she will marry the Duke of York.” Her eyes widen a she nods at Harriet, making her statement of fact clear. “And I need a hat for the occasion, Miss Milford, but not that one.” She points to a hat of straw decorated with garlands of lace ribbons and faux flowers around its wide brim sitting in a hat stand on Harriet’s appropriated work table. “Who on earth is that for? It looks like something the Miss Evanses would wear to one of my mother’s tombolas.”
“Well, I’m not sure who the Miss Evanses are, Miss Chetwynd, but this hat is meant for Mrs. Leonowens who lives down the street. Her granddaughter is getting married next Wednesday. She was very particular about what kind of hat she wanted, and its trimmings.” Looking critically at the hat she adds. “I suppose she is a little old fashioned in her taste,” She shrugs. “But that’s what she wanted.”
“Well, I’m very relieved to hear you say that your Mrs. Leonowens decided what was to go on that hat, and not you.” Lettice says with a sigh of relief. “After the beautiful creation you made for me for Leslie’s wedding, I consider you to have more than an ounce of good taste,” Looking again around her critically she adds. “In clothing and hats at any rate.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Miss Chetwynd,” Harriet says somewhat warily, yet with a smile. “I take it that Gerry is going to design your frock for the royal wedding?”
“He is, Miss Milford. Although even I am still a little unclear of the exact date, I believe the wedding will be in late April or early May at Westminster Abbey, so a spring wedding. Gerald thinks that as Lady Elizabeth is quite romantic, and loves pastel colours, that I should wear peach floral crêpe de chine, which I’ve agreed to. What do you propose, Miss Milford?”
“Well, Gerry and I can chat more about this when he visits Cyril later in the week,” Harriet pauses. “I take it I can talk to Gerry about this? I’m not sworn to secrecy from him, am I?”
“Oh no, Miss Milford! Gerald knows Lady Elizabeth too, so he knows her news and will doubtless be on the guest list too.”
“Oh, that’s a relief!”
“But not Cyril, even if he and Gerald are…”
“Friends, Miss Chetwynd?”
“Friends, Miss Milford, you mustn’t mention why you are making this hat for me, at last until after the official announcement of the engagement is made in the newspapers. I do not wish to be the source of more gossip. I know Lady Elizabeth is very irritated by the current rumours.”
“I doubt Cyril will care to ask why I’m making a hat for you, Miss Chetwynd, but if he asks, I shall make up an excuse. Now, if your friend Lady Elizabeth is romantic, and looking at her pictures in the papers, in keeping with your friend’s style and something that would suit you as well, I suggest a deeply crowned hat with a wide, poke style brim.” She gesticulates around her own head how wide the brim would be and how it would sit. “Stiffened of course.” she adds. She looks at Lettice’s expectant face. “Made of apricot felt, edged with the thinnest trim of white lace I think and ornamented with pink and orange taffeta roses. What do you think, Miss Chetwynd?”
“That sounds quite splendid, Miss Milford!” Lettice says, returning her cup to her saucer and sitting back in her chair. “Yes, do it!”
“Splendid, Miss Chetwynd! It will be subtle and yet striking as well.” Harriet remarks. “You might even outshine the bride.” She giggles girlishly.
“I do hope not, Miss Milford.” Lettice replies, albeit with a slight smile.
“But secretly, you wouldn’t mind it if you did.” Harriet responds with a knowing look. “A slice of cake, Miss Chetwynd?” She holds out the silver tray on which lay four slices of rich, dark fruitcake with a thin layer of white marzipan icing.
Lettice saves herself from having to reply by putting the piece of cake to her lips and taking a bite of it, allowing the moist sliver to fall apart in her mouth.
*Originating in Seventeenth Century England, the term pin money first meant “an allowance of money given by a husband to his wife for her personal expenditures. Married women, who typically lacked other sources of spending money, tended to view an allowance as something quite desirable. By the Twentieth Century, the term had come to mean a small sum of money, whether an allowance or earned, for spending on inessentials, separate and in addition to the housekeeping money a wife might have to spend.
**Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, as she was known at the beginning of 1923 when this story is set, went on to become Queen of the United Kingdom and the Dominions from 1936 to 1952 as the wife of King George VI. Whilst still Duke of York, Prince Albert initially proposed to Elizabeth in 1921, but she turned him down, being "afraid never, never again to be free to think, speak and act as I feel I really ought to". He proposed again in 1922 after Elizabeth was part of his sister, Mary the Princess Royal’s, wedding party, but she refused him again. On Saturday, January 13th, 1923, Prince Albert went for a walk with Elizabeth at the Bowes-Lyon home at St Paul’s, Walden Bury and proposed for a third and final time. This time she said yes. The wedding took place on April 26, 1923 at Westminster Abbey.
***Prince Albert, Duke of York, known by the diminutive “Bertie” to the family and close friends, was the second son of George V. Not only did Bertie propose to Elizabeth in 1921, but also in March 1922 after she was a bridesmaid at the wedding of Albert’s sister, Princess Mary to Viscount Lascelles. Elizabeth refused him a second time, yet undaunted Bertie pursued the girl who had stolen his heart. Finally, in January 1923 she agreed to marry him in spite of her misgivings about royal life.
****The Old Vic theatre in the London borough of Lambeth was formerly the home of a theatre company that became the nucleus of the National Theatre. The company’s theatre building opened in 1818 as the Royal Coburg and produced mostly popular melodramas. In 1833 it was redecorated and renamed the Royal Victoria and became popularly known as the Old Vic. Between 1880 and 1912, under the management of Emma Cons, a social reformer, the Old Vic was transformed into a temperance amusement hall known as the Royal Victoria Hall and Coffee Tavern, where musical concerts and scenes from Shakespeare and opera were performed. Lilian Baylis, Emma Cons’s niece, assumed management of the theatre in 1912 and two years later presented the initial regular Shakespeare season. By 1918 the Old Vic was established as the only permanent Shakespearean theatre in London, and by 1923 all of Shakespeare’s plays had been performed there. The Old Vic grew in stature during the 1920s and ’30s under directors such as Andrew Leigh, Harcourt Williams, and Tyrone Guthrie.
*****The expression in a jiffy was in use as early as 1780. It is a colloquial English expression for “in a short amount of time.” The origins of jiffy are unknown, though there are theories. One suggestion is that it comes from British thieves’ slang for “lightning,” hence very fast. An early instance appears in 1780 edition of Town and Country Magazine: “Most of the limbs of the law do every thing in a jiffy”.
******Created by British industrial chemist and journalist Walter Weldon Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was the first ‘home weeklies’ magazine which supplied dressmaking patterns. Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was first published in 1875 and continued until 1954 when it ceased publication.
*******The meaning of the very British term “shall I be mother” is “shall I pour the tea?”
********In early January 1923 a newspaper ran a gossip item that Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon was soon to be engaged to Prince Albert the Duke of York’s elder brother, the Prince of Wales – a story that reportedly annoyed her. Rumour has it that part of Elizabeth’s hesitance to marry Albert was due to her being in love with David – the loftier “catch” – however, these stories are highly unlikely and probably have more to do with trying to explain her later hatred for Wallis Simpson. More likely, she knew that the story meant more pressure for her to make up her mind about Albert and she knew the rumour would wound him.
This rather cluttered and chaotic scene of a drawing room cum workroom may look real to you, but believe it or not, it is made up entirely with pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection, including pieces from my childhood.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism such as these are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable. The natural straw hat with white lace ribbon trim and faux flower garlands on the table was made by an unknown artisan in the United Kingdom and was sold through Doreen Jeffrey’s Small Wonders miniatures shop.
The concertina sewing box on casters which you can see spilling forth its contents is an artisan miniature made by an unknown artist in England. It comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the in the United Kingdom. All the box’s contents including spools of ribbons, threads scissors and buttons on cards came with the work box. The box can completely expand or contract, just like its life-sized equivalent.
The black japanned fire screen in the background, the black metal fire tools and the potted plants and their stands all come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop.
Harriet’s family photos seen cluttering the mantlepiece in the background are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames are almost all from Melody Jane’s Dollhouse Suppliers in the United Kingdom and are made of metal with glass in each.
The porcelain clock on the mantlepiece is made by M.W. Reutter Porzellanfabrik in Germany, who specialise in making high quality porcelain miniatures. The pot of yellow and blue petunias and the ornamental swan figurine on the mantlepiece have been hand made and painted by 1:12 miniature ceramicist Ann Dalton.
The tilt chess table I bought from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, whilst the Indian hexagonal table comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom.
The Edwardian tea set and plate of fruit cake slices on its surface come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop, as do the spools of threads, the silver sewing scissors in the shape of a stork and the spool of ribbon. The skeins of pink and blue thread I have had since I was a teenager, when I acquired the from a high street doll house miniature specialist shop.
The sewing basket that you can see on the floor just behind the chess table I bought from a high street shop that specialised in dolls and doll house furnishings. It is an artisan miniature and contains pieces of embroidery and embroidery threads.
The floral chintz chair is made by J.B.M. miniatures who specialise in well made pieces of miniature furniture made to exacting standards.
The Chinese carpet beneath the furniture is hand made by Mackay and Gerrish in Sydney, Australia.
The Edwardian mantlepiece is made of moulded plaster and was acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom.
The paintings and prints on the walls all come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House in the United Kingdom.
William Chambers Millinery shoot for Indicate Magazine.
Model: Vivi
Make-up: Kaeleigh Wallace
Milliner: William Chambers
Issue 6
Prints for sale
Either Flicr mail me or e-mail me at Indykitty1@hotmail.com
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I thought others might appreciate these tidbits of forgotten history of People of Color.
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