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beauty portrait
dream factory studio, san francisco
silver gelatin print
much thanks everyone for your kind comments, favs and visits!
stream on black
www.fluidr.com/photos/21491133@N02
www.fluidr.com/photos//21491133@N02/3486430785
If you like this study, please take a look at "jenilyn"
www.flickr.com/photos/21491133@N02/3212497313/in/set-7215...
It is the possibilities that excites me about photography.
Regardless of the subject matter, the possibility to discover something creative or unique inspires me to no end.
I believe that regardless of the subject matter, landscape, people or other studies
the creative potentials are the same.
It is very exciting to live the moment discovering the possibilities.
*my apologies for losing the galleries that i was honored to have been part of being in.
flickr caused their deletion when they moderated my stream.
11/1/10 thank you everyone! i have had the privilege to be included in 85 galleries
since posting!
The ease of technology that has made showing my work so much more easily accessible these days with the use
of my iphone and apple macbook pro! My photography experience and the technology has greatly been intwine into the my camera life. I am really looking forward to getting an ipad to supplement presenting my work to clients soon!
also from the bottom of my heart... thank you for allowing me the opportunity to reach my first 1,000,000 visits mark here on my flickr stream! yes it is but a number but it also a tiny goal that my friends here have afford for me by your much appreciated vibe, presence & visits!
To my model Jessica! Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to create above and beyond what I able to do with my limited means....=)
Relatively slim pickings on the railway front today with only one non-passenger service on the Tyne Valley line, to break up the monotony of DMU's.
On the plus side it was a substantial formation of HOBC stock returning to Tyne Yard following overnight work near Carlisle.
66507+563 are in charge for the 1030 Caldew Jn to Tyne S.S as it approaches Blaydon on a sunny 16th August 2015.
B. Ruppes Inc is a health supplement store in historic Barelas. Since it's inception at the turn of the century, B. Ruppes Inc has evolved over the years from at one time a full-service pharmacy to it's current state of selling over the counter medicine, traditional Mexican remedies, herbs, vitamins/supplements, and traditional Mexican medicine supplies and needs.
This mural in their parking lot and is a must to see.
Barelas, Albuquerque, Bernalillo County, NM
I've gone for a little 'rewind' here with this shot of new to Mainline B6LE Wright Crusader pictured in St Budeaux square working back from Saltash to Plymouth on what was back then the old 'Red Line' route 1 & 2.
I remembered when this one turned up from South Yorkshire, it still had the LEDs programmed to destinations from up North!
We had all of the N-BKY batch here at Plymouth at one point along with N144BWG & M918MRW, they supplemented the native B6BLEs W-PAF batch on the then colour branded routes around Plymouth.
Depending on which 'snake oil' salesman you talk to, bladder wrack can be used to benefit all sorts of health conditions, but medical evidence as to it's efficacy is thin on the ground.
One definite benefit is not to fall in the water while trying to photograph it.
Snaefellsnes Peninsular, Iceland.
April 2016. © David Hill
Our heat pump quit working recently, so we turned on our supplemental heat source. While we know it's actually a 50-year-old electric wall heater, here's a photo of it from Dot's point of view.
26th June 2019:
The last time we saw our GP I said that I'd been feeing a bit below Par and asked about a vitamin supplement.
This sort is the only one covered on the 100% medical insurance, which is what I wanted.
It's a complete meal in itself so I have it for breakfast. I have chocolate, vanilla, cappuccino and caramel favoured ones, but sadly they all seem to have the same taste - synthetic. :0(
However, I'm sure they're doing me the world of good - or I hope they are!!
The prescription was for 24 and I still have rather a lot left. One thing I found was putting them in the fridge over night made them slightly more agreeable to eat.
Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites. :O)
A striking advert on the back cover of the Sheffield Telegraph's 1934 Industrial Supplement showing a towering viaduct, no doubt manufactured using Caesar Brand Portland Cement as supplied by the Doncaster based concern of Contract & Works Supply Co. (Tom Parry) Ltd. The advert also notes Cæsarapid Brand cement that cured to meet the British Standard 7 day test in 24 hours.
The advert also shows the logo for the manufacturers of Cæsar Brand cements, the Central Portland Cement Co lTd who were based at Kirton Lindsey, south of Scunthorpe in Lincolnshire and who appear to have been producing various products there from 1882 until 1976. The concern was under various ownerships at different times and in 1935 it was purchased by the new start Alpha Cement, formed in 1933 and with apparent links to US producers. Alpha grew through various takeovers and by 1938 it was sold, jointly, to Tunnel and Blue Circle - Blue Circle taking full control in 1949.
I must be easily pleased - but, this small illustrated colour booklet of some 16 pages is so beautifully produced and is about such an esoteric subject as halibut oil that it is a gem! It was issued about 1950 I would say, given the style and 'feel', and was printed at The Fanfare Press, London, for The Crookes Laboratories who were based at Park Royal in north west London and from where they manufactured many vitamins and supplements including those made from halibut liver oil that provided Vitamin D.
Crookes have a fascinating history and they still exist as a multinational concern, based in Nottingham, as they had been for many years part of Boots the Chemists who had acquired them in 1971. Boots bought the company from the Park Royal 'neighbours' Guinness who had an interest in Crookes from 1960 when they'd jointly bought them along with a division of Philips. They're now owned by Reckitt Benckiser who took over Boots Healthcare manufacturing division in 2005.
The origins of the company go back to the eminant scientist Sir William Crookes, he of the Crookes Tube that allowed the development of many other technologies. It was his son, Henry, who started making colloids in around 1912 and whose concern became part of British Colloids in 1919, the name changing to Crookes Laboratories in 1951.
According to the booklet much clever technology was required from when the fresh halibut livers arrived at Park Royal until the purified capsules left! The charming illustrations and text look at the need for and importance of Vitamin D in such a sun-drenched country as the UK and the various demanding life and work styles encountered by many people. The illustrations are all signed "Xenia" and I'm tempted to think this is no other than Xenia Kashevaroff Cage (1913 - 1995?), the US born artist of some renown but whose work was overshadowed by her one time husband John Cage.
It seems a bit far fetched but Xenia, noted for sculptural forms and mobiles, did a series of posters for BOAC at around the same time and the style is so very similar. Hopefully this can be confirmed one way or the other! This page is striking - I'm not sure if this is Mr A D Green striding manfully along the street protected by his hat, brolly, gloves and Vitamin D!
Vitamins offer a variety of health advantages. Vitamins can aid in addressing your deficiencies in vitamins. They boost your digestion system, immune system and also cell growth. It improves your energy levels and improves your focus.
Get the vitamin deficiencies in your diet
A lot of people suffer from nutritional deficiencies due to poor diet. Multivitamins can be taken by people who are deficient in minerals or vitamins. Multivitamins are beneficial for children, pregnant women or anyone taking treatment to meet vitamin requirements. Some people are very picky about foods, so they receive benefits from vitamins.
Boost your energy level
Many liquid vitamins and chewings are available in the marketplace to immediately increase the energy level of your body. Vitamins that aren't soluble in water don't stay within your body for long. Your body needs fresh vitamins to stay active.
Supplements that include Vitamin B6, B12, and folic acids can boost your energy level through direct diluting of blood vessels. Vitamin B and Vitamin C dissolve easily in water and are later absorbed into bloodstreams to ease symptoms. The excess vitamins are extracted through urine.
Concentrate more
Vitamin B can be a problem if you have difficulty focusing and easily distracted. Vitamin B3, Vitamin B9 and Vitamin B12 will assist you in focusing and staying focused better. Vitamin B3 and Vitamin B9 increase your cognitive capacity as well as your learning capacity and productivity. It also helps you focus and concentrate better. dailylifesupplements.com/
In the Type Supplement to the Summer 1938 issue of Typography, publisjed by the Shenal Press, is this example of the Bauer typeface "Elizabeth". It was available in the UK through the agents for many German typefaces, Soldans Ltd of London.
The typeface was originally designed by Elizabeth Friedländer for Bauer in the early 1930s it was, after the Nazi seizure of power in 1933, named Elisabeth when introduced in 1937 as the intended name of Friedländer-Antiqua, a recognisably Jewish name, was considered inadvisable. It was called Elizabeth in overseas markets such as the UK.
Elizabeth Friedländer (1903 - 1984) fled first to Italy in 1936 and then Britain in 1938 and she had a remarkable wartime career working for the Ministry of Information. In post-war years she continued to work in the UK notably designing pattern papers for Curwen Press and Penguin Books, decorative 'printers flowers' and borders for Monotype and Linotype as well as being responsible for the graphic design of many Penguin Books.
ARRIVA Buses Wales VDL Commander 2504 - CX54 EPJ sets off from Rhyl on a Sunday journey on route 51 to Denbigh.
The 1860’s were a boom time of naval construction. The first ironclad battleships had amply demonstrated that the reign of the old wooden ship of the line was at an end. Such ships were extremely vulnerable to the new technology of high explosive shells, giving ships that were actually armoured to withstand such weapons a huge advantage. As a result, the world’s naval powers were keen to dispose of their now useless fleets, replacing them with ironclads as fast as they could.
Nowhere was this boom of shipbuilding greater than the Old Perceptan Empire. Ever since the Avalonian Continental and Western Holy Wars of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, where the navies of its rivals had been practically annihilated, Perceptum had maintained a massive margin of global naval supremacy for half a century by the virtue of being able to supplement its massive number of warships faster than its rivals could build new navies. But with the advent of the ironclad, this vast Armada of wooden sailing ships had been rendered obsolete at a stroke. A similar thing was happening in the navies of its geopolitical enemies, who were capitalizing on the opportunity to finally catch up. Having built its hegemony through the use of its navy, and none to eager to lose the control of the sea which its economy depended upon, the Imperial Government authorized one of the biggest construction programmes in history to replace its fleet with modern ironclad warships. Scores of the grand old wooden ships were sold and scrapped, with only the most modern preserved for conversion that turned them into comparatively ugly hunks of steel. Moreover, Imperial shipyards worked overtime to build entirely new ships with iron framed hulls; ships like the mighty Forza. The great majority of these ships were armed in the traditional broadside manner, before this type was ultimately superseded by ships with central battery and turret armaments.
When laid down in 1866, the Lorica and her class were intended to be the last, and grandest, of the Imperial Navy’s broadside battleships. In practice, conversion works on older ships and the construction of other broadsiders continued alongside their building until 1870, so it’s unclear which ship was THE last of the old way of fighting, but the Loricas were the last class of them to be ordered. For the Marina Imperiale, she was the embodiment of the sendoff, with some of the older men in the officer corps shedding tears over the passing of an age. They were the only class of broadside ironclad to possess more than a single gundeck, and although only the lower of the two benefitted from the thickest armour (8in of wrought iron backed by 20in of teak) their height allowed them to ship no less than fifty-six guns. As grand as this may seem, the arrangement caused several problems. The shear weight of all those guns threatened stability, and with so many weapons on two decks, it would be impossible to equip each gun with its own armoured ammunition hoist. This forced the guncrews to share hoists and get creative with how they handled the shot and powder... which would obviously prove hazardous in battle. The magazines were correspondingly huge, and although protected by relatively thick armour for a ship of the type, it was insufficient against the increasingly large guns mounted by central battery and turret ironclads. The only real strength they had was the mobility that resulted from their length to width ratio, but maneuvering such top-heavy iron sailing ships proved notoriously hazardous.
As can be expected, the Eight Years War was not kind to them. The ships performed admirably despite their age, their massive batteries of updated guns proving useful in calm seas and coastal battles where they proved their worth in guarding the Empire’s ports from attack. And unlike most other broadsiders, their entire hull was armoured with wrought iron ranging between four and eight inches, which allowed them to tank hits from smaller guns. Their relative agility even allowed them to dodge torpedoes while other, less nimble ships foundered. But whenever they were dragged too far out to sea, predictable problems arose. Their instability, worsened by the even heavier new rifled gun battery, caused more than one of them to sink in bad weather, in particularly fast turns or due to uncontrolled flooding in battle. With such a tendency to roll so heavily, the lower gun deck (which housed all the 8in guns, as opposed to the 4 and 6in rifles on the upper deck) would be subject to flooding should the hatches be opened in rough seas. Worse yet was the damage inflicted by the more modern ships the Empire was facing; the big-gun ships favoured by the Order of Achatius and her Allies found no problem with overmatching the Lorica’s armour, even from range. Once penetrated, the ships citadel and vulnerable ammunition stores were wide open to destruction.
Several of them did, however, survive the War. Wartime construction eventually caught up, allowing the the Loricas to be replaced on the front line by newer, tougher ships that moved the old broadsiders to relatively safe port defense and reserve posts. After the war, the Perceptan navy diligently reorganized itself and, strapped for cash, decided to sell many of its obsolescent ships off to the highest foreign bidders. At least one Lorica found its way into the Royal Pyu Navy, while another became flagship to a short-lived but famous pirate of the Chornslad Alliance. After superseding their value as combatants, they would serve for the rest of their days as depot ships, coal hulks and training vessels... an ignominious end to the era of the sailing battleship.
Lijnbaansgracht 12/08/2022 14h31
Street art Frankey gives the city small inconspicuous surprises. Sometimes quite large, sometimes very small. Every week a photo with one of his recent works appears in the supplement to the newspaper Het Parool. A great opportunity to take a closer look at his work. Sometimes you have to search to find it and sometimes it is already gone.
An aquarium appeared on the Brouwersgracht.
AQUARIUM
Brouwersgracht, Amsterdam Centrum
July 2022 (Het Parool 30/07/2022)
Streetart Frankey
Streetart Frankey (pseudonym of Frank de Ruwe) is a Dutch artist who wants to positively influence the street scene with relatively small and often inconspicuous works of art.
He grew up in Nijmegen, father was an inventor at Philips Netherlands. He studied at Delft University of Technology (Industrial design). In daily life director of and working for design collective Natwerk. In Amsterdam, many of his works in the street art category can be found on buildings, streets and bridges, often in addition to existing building elements. He himself about his work;
"I want to push boundaries. Art has no boundaries, that's why I like it so much."
In 2019, a special page has been dedicated to his art in Het Parool for a number of years; first he took care of that section himself, later he had to leave that work to others because of busy work. A little later his work Eberhard van der Laan appeared above the entrance of Paradiso.
One of the works that inspired him is the Boomzagertje in the Leidsebosje, a work by an as yet unknown artist.
[ Wikipedia ]
Another one of my oldies. I'm slowly putting them up so that they can go to the back of my stream when I upload new stuff.
Why it might be good - nature. Its all nature. Doing its thing & looking spectacular.
The only thing I did was lazily point at it and shoot away. I didn't think about the sunlight falling onto the rose, or how it would translate into a photograph. I didn't think about it at all.
Why am I posting this if I don't particularly like it? Well .. I think it acts as a supplement, telling me what not to do while assuring me about how far (or not so far) I'm come.
There’s also homemade bacon-infused butter, lobster butter, truffle aioli, and cocktail sauce can be added for $4 supplement each.
Lbs
100 Yonge St.
Toronto, ON
(647) 351-4747
lbstoronto.com
Twitter: @LbsToronto
Owners: Jonathan Gonsenhauser and Will Tomlinson
Introducing for TorontoLife: torontolife.com/food/restaurants/lbs-pounds-lobster-burge...
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 far from Cavendish Mews. We are not even in England as we follow Lettice, her fiancée, Sir John Nettleford Hughes, and her widowed future sister-in-law, Clementine (known preferably now by the more cosmopolitan Clemance) Pontefract on their adventures on their visit to Paris.
Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.
The trio have travelled to Paris so that Lettice may attend the ‘Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes’* which is highlighting and showcasing the new modern style of architecture and interior design known as Art Deco of which Lettice is an exponent. Now that Lettice has finished her commission for a feature wall at the Essex country retreat of the world famous British concert pianist Sylvia Fordyce, Lettice is moving on to her next project: a series of principal rooms in the Queen Anne’s Gate** home for Dolly Hatchett, the wife of Labour MP for Towers Hamlets*** Charles Hatchett, for whom she has done work before. Mrs. Hatchett wants a series of stylish formal rooms in which to entertain her husband’s and her own influential friends in style and elegance, and has given Lettice carte-blanche to decorate as she sees fit to provide the perfect interior for her. Lettice hopes to beat the vanguard of modernity and be a leader in the promotion of the sleek and uncluttered lines of the new Style Moderne**** which has arisen as a dynamic new movement at the exhibition.
We find ourselves in the Jardin des Tuileries**** where amidst the finely clipped square topiaries and brilliant white classical statuary of the gardens, on the lush and well clipped lawns, Lettice sits with Sir John and Clemance enjoying a very fine picnic repast in the warm autumnal sunshine of Paris. Arranged with the assistance of the chefs at the hotel they are staying at, Clemance has arranged a splendid picnic to which she has invited her good friends, Marcel and Léonie Dupont, and to which Sir John has invited some of his own Parisian acquaintances. A red and white gingham picnic rug has been spread across the lawn, and its surface is graced with water crackers, a selection of cheeses, dips, pâtés, breads, pies, pasties, sandwiches and even a dressed lobster and a traditional English trifle. Bottles of the finest French wines and champagnes stick up out of silver wine coolers and cutlery, gilt hotel crockery and glassware glint in the sunlight. Birds twitter in the trees and the distant burble of Paris traffic mixes with the chatter of the voices of visitors to the public gardens. In the middle distance, the Louvre Museum, housed in a palace of the same name, basks in the sunshine.
“So, to what pleasures, do we owe the pleasure of your company here in Paris, Mademoiselle Chetwynd?” Monsieur Dupont asks Lettice in slightly laboured and heavily accented English.
“We can speak French if you’d prefer, Monsieur Dupont.” Lettice replies kindly with a gentle smile as she tears a piece of bread delicately from a flour dusted roll, casting a shower of white snowflakes into the linen napkin spread across her lap. “I do speak it fluently.”
“Marcel is very proud of his command of Anglaise, Mademoiselle Chetwynd.” Madame Dupont proffers in reply with a laugh.
“I am,” Monsieur Dupont agrees with his wife, sitting up a little more straightly as he speaks. “I find my command of Anglaise to be useful when doing business with your fellow countrymen. Sadly, I don’t get to practice conversation à la Anglaise enough, Mademoiselle Chetwynd, so I should like to converse in Anglaise with you, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, Monsieur Dupont.” Lettice agrees, her own smile broadening, as she lavishes her piece of fluffy white roll with a lashing of creamy yellow butter from a silver knife as she speaks. “However, if you get tired of conversing in English, we can always revert to French.”
“Merci, Mademoiselle Chetwynd.” Monsieur Dupont replies with a grateful sigh and beaming smile below his small waxed petite handlebar moustache*****. “Vous êtes si gentil.” He holds up his glass of rich, jewel like red wine in a toast to Lettice.
“Mon plaisir, Monsieur Dupont.” Lettice replies.
“And in answer to your question, Marcel, my future sister-in-law is probably here more for business than pleasure, unlike Nettie and I.” Clemance adds to the conversation as she holds aloft her half-drunk flute of sparkling champagne, which glints in the sunshine. “For whom it is strictly a visit for pleasure.”
“Ahh.” Monsieur Dupont remarks with interest. “How so, Mademoiselle Chetwynd?”
“Well Monsieur Dupont, I’m visiting Paris so that I can attend the Exposition des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Modernes. My fiancée is escorting me.”
“Nettie was looking for an excuse to visit Paris and catch up with old friends.” Clemance adds with a chuckle, using her pet name for her brother, indicating with her glass to Sir John, who sits on the other side of the red and white gingham picnic rug covered in the delicious repast organised by Clemance, surrounded by a few other picnickers, chatting rather intently with a lowered head with a heavily made up peroxided blonde woman in a fashionable fuchsia coloured afternoon frock.
“So I see,” Madame Dupont remarks a little dourly as her striking emerald green eyes follow Clemance’s gesture. Her nose crumples almost imperceptibly with distaste as Sir John and the blonde woman laugh at a shared confidence whispered into her ear by him.
Lettice’s pretty face clouds just a little as she observes the familiarity that seems to exist between her fiancée and the blonde woman to whom she has yet to be introduced, who arrived late to the picnic with a small coterie of loud and colourful friends who twitter around them like exotic birds. The way the pair’s heads are lowered towards one another, and the closeness of their shoulders seems to imply to Lettice that whoever the blonde woman is, she has been intimate with Sir John. Closing her eyes and quickly shaking her head as if ridding herself of an irritating insect, she tries to dismiss the idea from her mind. Yes, Sir John did come to Paris to meet up with old friends, including a long-standing acquaintance and old flame of his, Cinégraphic****** silent film actress Madeline Flanton, but surely this blonde woman wasn’t her! Sir John promised Lettice that he would never do anything to make her ashamed of him, in public at least. Paris might be freer than London was in relation to propriety and social mores, but surely even he wouldn’t flirt with an old flame like Mademoiselle Flanton in front Lettice in such a public way, would he? Of course not! She shakes her head again to rid herself of the idea. Not every woman Sir John knows is a former lover of his: take Sylvia Fordyce for example. Their relationship, whilst long standing and very close, is strictly platonic.
“I’m only here as a chaperone for Lettice.” Clemance goes on blissfully unaware of Madame Dupont’s disapproval of Sir John’s behaviour, breaking Lettice’s train of thought about him and the blonde woman. “But it also gave me an excuse to return to Paris and see you and some of my other friends.” She smiles beatifically at the Duponts. “I miss you all so.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left us, cher Clemance!” Mrs Dupont scolds Clemance good naturedly. “You can always come back you know.”
“Oh, I know Léonie.” Clemance remarks. “But it’s impossible.” She shakes her head. “After Harrison…” Her voice trails off as she mentions her dead husband and she gulps to gather her composure as unshed tears well in her eyes. “I have lost so much, here in Paris.” She blinks back the tears as she stares meaningfully at Madame Dupont. “No, it’s better if I am in London with Nettie nearby,” She turns to Lettice and smiles bravely. “And my dear Lettice of course.”
Lettice knows that Clemance lost her only child, a daughter, Élodie, to diphtheria when she was just twelve years old, but she cannot let on that Sir John has shared this deepest of confidences with her. So, she knows that Clemance has lost not only her husband, but her daughter in Paris, making the city of light and love a very dark place for her future sister-in-law.
“Of course, Clemance,” Lettice agrees. “And you will always be welcome to stay with John and I whenever you want. You have a home with us, wherever we are.”
“Thank you, Lettice my dear.” Clemance says with a grateful smile, reaching out her left hand and squeezing Lettice’s right forearm comfortingly.
“Ahh…” Madame Dupont taps her nose knowingly. “As the future Lady Nettleford-Hughes, you will become the mistress of Rippon Court.” She refers to the old castle built on Sir John’s vast family estate in Bedfordshire.
“Oh, I don’t think John and I plan on making Rippon Court our country seat, Madame Dupont.” Lettice responds. “He didn’t seem at all keen on the idea when I couched it.”
“Well, that’s hardly surprising.” Clemance adds in a strangulated tone as her face pales.
“Why not, mon cher Clemance?” Monsieur Dupont queries before slipping half a water cracker lavished in creamy and rich duck pâté into his mouth.”
“Surely it is only right that Sir John and Mademoiselle Chetwynd take up residence in the family estate once they are married, Clemance.” Madame Dupont adds.
“Rippon Court does not hold fond memories for either Nettie or myself.” Clemance snaps in an unusual pique of irritation, bristling all over.
“I was born in Wiltshire, on my parent’s estate, Glynes.” Lettice quickly adds in an effort to deflect questions away from her future sister-in-law, who is obviously suffering discomfort at the mention of the home she and Sir John grew up in. “Glynes is quite close to Fontengil Park, John’s Wiltshire estate. I’ve never been to Rippon Court before, but John tells me that even though Fontengil Park is smaller, it is more suitable for us. More comfortable. Heating old houses is so expensive nowadays, never mind a castle.”
“John and I will have to take you to Rippon Court before you get married, Lettice my dear.” Clemance says with less brittleness in her voice. “Even if you don’t live there, as county gentry, you’ll be expected to participate in events around the local hunt. Unlike our parents, Nettie and I have never enjoyed foxhunting, but the old Nettleford Hunt is as much part a part of the county social calendar as Bonfire Night*******, Christmas, New Year and Twelfth Night********.”
“Your brother is très curieux, mon cher Clemance!” Madame Dupont laughs as she reaches daintily for a golden pâté en croûte*********. “How can le gentilhomme Anglaise not like to hunt? It is in your blood, non?” She takes a bite, showing her napkin covered lap in pastry crumbs.
“My father would have agreed with you, Léonie.” Clemance replies. “Nettie and I used to say that our parents were born on horses. Father was always a fine rider, a mad keen steeplechaser********** and bloodthirsty hunter.’ She shudders. “Mother was too. They couldn’t understand why Nettie didn’t enjoy, nor have the aptitude for, the outdoor sports they embraced with such gusto. Nettie was a bookworm***********, like me, and we’d bribe our governesses when we were children with promises of good behaviour and no procrastination at bedtime to lie to our parents and say they hadn’t seen us when they came looking for either Nettie or both of us to join in the hunt.” She giggles rather girlishly. “He and I used to hide in one of Rippon Court’s towers where we kept a small library of our favourite books to amuse ourselves for an afternoon of hiding from our parents.” She pauses for a moment and sips some of her champagne. “I wonder if our childhood books are still up there, gathering dust and shrouded in cobwebs?” she ponders. “Lettice my dear!”
“Hhhmmm….” Lettice says distractedly.
“Lettice, Nettie and I must show you the book tower when we visit Rippon Court in the New Year for the Nettleford Hunt.” Lettice doesn’t reply as her attention is caught by something out of the corner of her eye. Clemance doesn’t notice and continues, focussing upon her friends the Duponts. “However, luckily being the master of foxhounds************ is only a ceremonial role, and Nettie is not forced to mount a horse and take part in the hunt itself. Lettice of course, is a skilled horsewoman, but her role, at least on this first visit to the Nettleford Hunt will be ceremonial too. As the future Lady Nettleford-Hughes, she’ll be restricted to handing out the winners’ trophies.”
Clemance’s chattery voice dulls and morphs into a distant undistinguishable burble in her ears as Lettice’s attention is drawn back to her fiancée sitting on the other side of the picnic blanket. She notices a subtle movement on the fabric of the rug close to a plate of finely cut triangle sandwiches garnished with tomato and cucumber. It’s Sir John’s finger and that of the unknown blonde woman. They are discreetly playing with one another teasingly before entwining their little fingers tightly together, hidden from the view of those in front of them by Sir John’s back. A sparkling peridot in a gold ring on the woman’s finger twinkles whilst the sheen of Sir John’s Georgian gold and carnelian************* signet ring*************, bearing the Nettleford-Hughes crest glares in the sunlight, shining in Lettice’s eyes, causing her to blink and look down.
“Mademoiselle Chetwynd?” Monsieur Dupont queries.
“What?” Lettice asks in a distracted fashion, her attention drawn back to the conversation happing on her side of the picnic, between Clemance and the Duponts.
“You never fully answered my question, Mademoiselle Chetwynd.” Monsieur Dupont explains.
“Err… what question was that, Monsieur Dupont?”
“You never told me why you are visiting the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes, Mademoiselle. Business or pleasure?”
“Well, it’s for business really,” Lettice manages to say with a slightly strangulated voice. “Although I can’t deny that there is a mix of pleasure to be found amidst the business.” She glances back to Sir John and the blonde woman’s entwined fingers, but find that they are no longer interlocked. She quickly returns her attention to Monsieur Dupont’s expectant face. “Thanks to Clemance’s generosity at organising this lovely picnic for us, and introducing me to her old and beloved Parisian friends. She speaks of you both so fondly.”
“Pardon moi, but I wouldn’t call that lovely!” Madame Dupont says in disgust, waving an accusing finger at the picnic.
For a brief moment, Lettice thinks that Clemance’s guest has seen the intertwined fingers of Sir John and the blonde woman, and she blushes red with embarrassment at the thought. Then she notices that Madame Dupont is actually pointing at a round container sitting on the red and white chequered rug, marked ‘U-Like-It Savoury Cheese’**************, featuring two cherub cheeked children in the label. It houses some individually wrapped triangles of cheese, each one’s tin foil*************** affixed with a different brightly coloured label.
“Oh that’s just for Nettie!” Clemance laughs with a sweep of her hand over the container of cheese before taking another sip of her champagne.
“Is our cheese not good enough for your frère, ma chere?” Monsieur Dupont asks, a little offended as he raises his hand to his chest, as if wounded by Clemance’s declaration.
“Not at all, Marcel!” Clemance assures him quickly. “When he inherited the family title, land and estates, amongst them he inherited a sheep station in Australia, called Rippon Station.”
“A railway station?” Monsieur Dupont asks in surprise.
“Built just for sheep transportation?” Madame Dupont adds in confusion.
“How très peculiar Antipodeans*************** are.” Monsieur Dupont declares as he takes up another cracker lavished with pâté and bites into it.
“No, no, Léonie and Marcel!” Clemance explains with a smirk, used to the confusion stirred within her Parisian friends, just as she and her brother had once been confused by some uniquely Australian vernacular. “A station in Australia can mean a railway station as we know it to mean. However, it can also be a name for large swathes of pastural land, like a very large farm.” She chuckles. “I know, it’s a strange term. Nettie and I were just as confused then, as you are now.” She looks at the perplexed looks on her friends’ faces. “Both Nettie and I sailed to Australia after our father died. It took six weeks to get there alone! I think Harrison despaired that I would ever return to Paris. The station, the large farm, is in Victoria. It is looked after by a very competent manager who grazes and breeds cattle for us on the property, and they produce cheddar cheese there. The Australians call it ‘tasty cheese’ rather than cheddar, but call it what you like, it equates to much the same thing. During our stay there, Nettie developed a taste for this uniquely Australian ‘tasty cheese’, pardon my pun. Now when his station sends crates of cheese from Rippon Station to London by refrigerated vessel****************, Nettie always has a few tins of our cheese marketed under the U-Like-It brand sent up to Belgravia for his pleasure. I had this shipped to our hotel in Paris from the London docks a few days ago, once I had settled on the fact that I was going to host this picnic luncheon whilst we were visiting.”
The pair of Parisians nod in slightly less confusion.
“You still haven’t answered my question, Mademoiselle Chetwynd,” Monsieur Dupont persists.
“Oh, that’s because I have been chatting away nineteen to the dozen*****************!” Clemance apologises with an embarrassed gasp. “Please, dear Lettice, tell Marcel why you’re visiting the exposition.”
“Well, as I said, I’ve come to view the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes, Monsieur Dupont.” Lettice says again, politely, trying to focus on his inquisitive middle-aged face, and not be tempted to take her eyes off him and stray back to Sir John and the blonde woman, thus drawing attention to their flirtatious behaviour. “I’m an interior designer in London, you see, and I am an exponent of the modernist and uncluttered Art Deco aesthetic.”
“Ahh!” Monsieur Dupont murmurs with interest. “Yes, we are very proud of all that France has on show at the exposition! It’s a symbol of national pride to show the world what the height of fashion is.” he adds proudly. “France, and Paris in particular, has always set the trends for fashion and design.”
“Now that Lettice has finished her commission for our friend Sylvia Fordyce,” Clemance pauses. “You remember Nettie’s and my friend the concert pianist who performed at the Casino de Paris******************?”
“Oui! Oui!” the Duponts reply enthusiastically.
“Well, Lettice is moving on to her next project: a series of rooms for a British politician and his wife in the heart of London.”
“Is that so, Mademoiselle Chetwynd?” Monsieur Deupont asks.
“Yes,” Lettice replies, blushing at the Frenchman’s intense interest. “Mrs. Hatchett wants me to decorate a series of formal rooms in her new London home, in which to entertain their friends.”
“Lettice’s star is on the rise as a society interior designer in London,” Clemance enthuses. “Everyone wants her to design for them. She hopes to beat the small vanguard of this new modern style emerging in London and be a leader in the promotion of the style. Err…” she stumbles. “What did you call it again, Lettice my dear?”
“Style Moderne*******************.” Lettice replies rather distractedly as once again her attention returns to Sir John and the blonde woman.
The blonde woman laughs overly loudly at something Sir John says and places a hand predatorily upon his upper arm in a most unnervingly familiar way, which only helps to confirm for Lettice that whomever she is, this woman has been her fiancée’s lover in the past, and seems to have easily wound him up in her thrall yet again in the short period of time since she and her coterie of friends arrived to join Clemance’s picnic. She peers more closely at her heavily rouged cheeks with their defined bones and her exotic eyes, made even more so by the dark kohl******************** rimming them. She is not as youthful as Sir John’s current conquest in London, the West End actress Paula Young – more middle aged than twenty something - but as Lettice observes her hand lightly caressing Sir John’s tweed jacketed shoulder with her elegant fingers with their pink painted nails, she perceives that this woman shares the same steely determination as Paula, and whilst she appears on the surface to be jovial and gay in a free and natural way, there is a glibness behind it all that suggests to Lettice that she is a woman who has had to fight for everything she now has, and she knows how to enchant Sir John with her coquettish charms, in spite of her age.
“I perceive that you and I may have a fruitful friendship, Mademoiselle Chetwynd,” Monsieur Dupont remarks. “If you intend to pursue your career in interior design.”
“Oh, Nettie is very supportive of Lettice furthering her pursuits as an interior designer, Marcel.” Clemance replies.
“Indeed, how very forward thinking of him.” Monsieur Dupont opines.
“I think it is the businessman in him, Marcel. They say that like is drawn to like, and Nettie saw the determination in Lettice that he has for being successful in business. Isn’t that so, Lettice my dear?”
Drawn back to the conversation, Lettice replies with an apology, “I’m afraid I was distracted, Clemance my dear. What did you say?”
“I was just telling Marcel that Nettie is very supportive of your career as an interior designer, my dear.”
“Oh indeed he is, Monsieur Dupont. He wants me to continue with my interior design business even after I become Lady Nettleford-Hughes.”
“Then I really do believe that you and I will have a very fruitful relationship, mademoiselle Chetwynd.” Monsieur Dupont reiterates.
“Oh no, mon cheri!” Madame Dupont implores. “No business talk today, please! We are here to have fun and see Clemance and Jean, and meet Mademoiselle Chetwynd!”
“Business?” Lettice queries.
“My husband is a fabricant de textiles… a fabric manufacturer who specialises in tissue d’ameublement.” Madame Dupont elucidates.
“A furnishing fabric manufacturer, Monsieur Dupont?”
“Indeed, Mademoiselle Chetwynd.” The Frenchman replies proudly. “You will even see some of my fabrics on display at the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes when you visit it.”
“S'il vous plaît, ne parlez pas de travail, Marcel!” Madame Dupont implores her husband. “Let us just have fun today. Please! No work!”
“Oui! Oui Léonie!” he acquiesces. He then notices Clemance’s empty glass. “More champagne, mon cher Clemance?” he asks.
“How free you are with my champagne, mon cher Marcel!” Clemance giggles. “Please!” She holds out her glass.
“Très certainement!” he replies laughing as he withdraws the bottle from its silver cooler.
As Monsieur Dupont tends to Clemance’s and his wife’s glasses, Lettice cannot help but allow her attentions to return to the mysterious blonde woman sitting next to her fiancée on the grass. Solicitous towards her, she happily accepts anything Sir John offers her with a gracious elegance, yet it seems to be all artifice as she smiles a broad painted smile at him, and lowers her lids coquettishly as he refills her flute with champagne from another bottle.
“I see that you are taken by our ravissante cinéma chantuse*********************.” Monsieur Dupont’s voice breaks Lettice’s silent observation.
“Oh!” Lettice gasps, her hands rising to her cheeks as she feels the heat of embarrassment flush her face at being caught looking so overtly at the blonde woman. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Dupont. How frightfully rude of me.” she apologises to the Frenchman.
“Not at all, Mademoiselle Chetwynd.” he assures her with a shake of his head and a gentle smile. “Who could blame the moth for being drawn to the flame? More champagne?” He doesn’t wait for a reply, but immediately begins refilling Lettice’s three-quarter empty flute.
“Who is she, Monsieur Dupont?” Lettice asks. “You obviously know her.”
“Of course, Mademosielle! Like any red-blooded Frenchman, I know of her.” He cocks his head, looking thoughtfully at Lettice. “But you evidently, do not?”
Lettice looks at Monsieur Dupont and shakes her head.
“That, is Madeline Flanton, the famous French film star. She has been smouldering across our cinéma screens, and working her way into our hearts, since before the war.”
Lettice feels the blood drain from her face just as easily as it was flushed moments ago, as her worst fears, the concern that has been curdling her stomach ever since she noticed the familiarity between her and Sir John, is brought to fruition. Lettice’s mind is suddenly filled with the memory of the conversation she and Sir John had at the Savoy********************** when she first mentioned that she wanted to visit the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes in Paris. His counter proposal involved him attending the exhibition with Lettice in the mornings, before slipping away discreetly and meeting up with his old flame, Madeline Flanton in the afternoon. Determined not to lose face over this suggestion, Lettice suggested that perhaps she could meet Mademoiselle Flanton as well. Rather than balk at the idea, as she had in her heart-of-hearts hoped he might, Sir John warmed quickly to Lettice’s idea, suggesting that if they both went to Mademoiselle Flanton’s apartment for cocktails, the Parisian media wouldn’t question Sir John visiting her, and any whiff of scandal would thus be avoided. He suggested that after a few polite social cocktails with Mademoiselle Flanton, she and Sir John could escort Lettice out via the back entrance to her apartment into a waiting taxi to return her to the hotel that she, Sir John and Clemance have arranged to stay at, leaving Sir John to spend the rest of the night with Mademoiselle Flanton.
Lettice lifts her refilled glass of champagne to her lips and takes a gulp of champagne, rather than her usual ladylike sip. However, rather than tasting refreshing and sweet, the effervescent golden liquid tangs of bitterness, as it roils in the pit of her stomach. And suddenly, everything she was enjoying about Clemance’s picnic in the Tuileries Garden – the delicious spread of food, the warm autumnal sunshine, the birdsong, the pleasant chatter of her companions – all seems suddenly spoilt, and when Mademoiselle Flanton laughs again at something Sir John has said, and she places a hand on his upper arm again, the sound of her guffaws appear harsh, strident and forced.
*International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts was a specialized exhibition held in Paris, from April the 29th (the day after it was inaugurated in a private ceremony by the President of France) to October the 25th, 1925. It was designed by the French government to highlight the new modern style of architecture, interior decoration, furniture, glass, jewellery and other decorative arts in Europe and throughout the world. Many ideas of the international avant-garde in the fields of architecture and applied arts were presented for the first time at the exposition. The event took place between the esplanade of Les Invalides and the entrances of the Grand Palais and Petit Palais, and on both banks of the Seine. There were fifteen thousand exhibitors from twenty different countries, and it was visited by sixteen million people during its seven-month run. The modern style presented at the exposition later became known as “Art Deco”, after the exposition's name.
**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.
***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.
****"Style Moderne," often used interchangeably with "Streamline Moderne" or "Art Moderne," is a design style that emerged in the 1930s, characterized by aerodynamic forms, horizontal lines, and smooth, rounded surfaces, often inspired by transportation and industrial design. It represents a streamlined, less ornate version of Art Deco, emphasizing functionality and sleekness. It was first shown at the Paris International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts of 1925.
****The Tuileries Garden is a public garden between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde in the first arrondissement of Paris. Created by Catherine de' Medici as the garden of the Tuileries Palace in 1564, it was opened to the public in 1667 and became a public park after the French Revolution. Since the Nineteenth Century, it has been a place for Parisians to celebrate, meet, stroll and relax.
*****A petit handlebar moustache is a smaller version of the classic handlebar moustache. It features the same upward-curling ends, but the overall length is shorter, with the ends typically stopping just before the cheeks.
******Cinégraphic was a French film production company founded by director Marcel L'Herbier in the 1920s. It was established following a disagreement between L'Herbier and the Gaumont Company, a major film distributor, over the film "Don Juan et Faust". Cinégraphic was involved in the production of several films, including "Don Juan et Faust" itself. Cinégraphic focused on more experimental and artistic films.
*******Guy Fawkes Day, also called Bonfire Night, British observance, celebrated on November the fifth, commemorating the failure of the Gunpowder Plot of 1605. Guy Fawkes and his group members acted in protest to the continued persecution of the English Catholics. Today Guy Fawkes Day is celebrated in the United Kingdom, and in a number of countries that were formerly part of the British Empire, with parades, fireworks, bonfires, and food. Straw effigies of Fawkes are tossed on the bonfire, as are—in more recent years in some places—those of contemporary political figures. Traditionally, children carried these effigies, called “Guys,” through the streets in the days leading up to Guy Fawkes Day and asked passersby for “a penny for the guy,” often reciting rhymes associated with the occasion, the best known of which dates from the Eighteenth Century.
********Dating back to the fourth century, many Christians have observed the Twelfth Night — the evening before the Epiphany — as the ideal time to take down the Christmas tree and festive decorations. Traditionally, the Twelfth Night marks the end of the Christmas season, but there's reportedly some debate among Christian groups about which date is correct. By custom, the Twelfth Night falls on either January 5 or January 6, depending on whether you count Christmas Day as the first day. The Epiphany, also known as Three Kings' Day, commemorates the visit of the three wise men to baby Jesus in Bethlehem.
*********In French, a pasty is known as "pâté en croûte". Whilst "pasty" can also be translated as "friand" or "tourte" depending on the specific context, if referring to the Cornish pasty, it can be described as a "petit pâté en croûte à la viande et aux pommes de terre".
**********A steeplechase is a long-distance race involving both galloping and jumping over obstacles, primarily fences and water jumps. In horse racing, steeplechases involve horses jumping over various obstacles like fences and ditches.
***********The term "bookworm" was first used in the mid-1500s, specifically in 1549 in a translation by Thomas Chaloner, according to the Oxford English Dictionary. Initially, it referred to the actual insects that would bore into books. Later, around 1580, the term began to be used metaphorically to describe people who spent excessive amounts of time reading, often with a somewhat negative connotation.
************A master of the foxhounds is a ceremonial position in foxhunting. The master of foxhounds is the person responsible for the conduct of a fox hunt and to whom all members of the hunt and its staff are responsible.
*************Carnelian is a semi-precious gemstone, specifically a reddish-orange variety of chalcedony, a type of quartz. It is known for its vibrant colors, ranging from pale orange to deep reddish-brown, and is often used in jewelry and decorative art. Carnelian has been valued for centuries for its beauty and is also believed to possess various metaphysical and healing properties.
**************A signet ring is a type of ring, traditionally with a flat face, that is often engraved with a family crest, initials, or other symbolic design. Historically, these rings were used to seal documents by pressing the engraved face into hot wax, effectively acting as a personal signature. Signet rings have been a symbol of status, family heritage, and personal identity for centuries.
***************"U-Like-It" was a brand of cheese made in Australia, marketed to the rest of the world. It contained a variety of cheddars, marketed as "tasty cheese" in Australia. The term "tasty cheese" itself is commonly used in Australia to describe a medium-aged cheddar, and the "U-Like-It" brand was part of this category. The brand is now known as Cheer, and the "U-Like-It" brand was discontinued after the Second World War.
**************Tin foil, made from thin sheets of tin, was first commercially produced and used in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries. While the term "tin foil" is still used today, it now often refers to "aluminium foil", which replaced tin foil due to its superior properties and lower cost.
***************The term Antipodean is used when referring to people or items relating to, or originating from places on the opposite side of the globe, especially Australia and New Zealand.
****************Refrigeration on ships began with experimental shipments of chilled and frozen meat in the 1870s, with the first successful voyage occurring in 1878. The Paraguay arrived at Le Havre with five and half thousand frozen carcasses, proving the concept of refrigerated shipping. This was followed by the Strathleven's successful voyage from Australia to London in 1879-1880. The Dunedin's voyage in 1882, carrying a full cargo of refrigerated meat from New Zealand to England, further solidified the viability of refrigerated shipping. By 1900 a worldwide survey indicated 356 refrigerated ships in operation, carrying a variety of cargo. By the mid 1920s, when this story is set, refrigeration on ocean bearing vessels was quite common and reliable, thus making produce from the far-flung corners of the British Empire able to be brought to the heart of Empire in London.
*****************We are all familiar with the phrase “ten to the dozen’” which means someone who talks fast. However, the original expression is actually “nineteen to the dozen”. Why nineteen, you ask? Many sources say we simply don’t know, but there are other sources that claim it goes back to the Cornish tin and copper mines, which regularly flooded. With advancements in steam technology, the hand pumps they used to pump out this water were replaced by beam engines that could pump 19,000 gallons of water out for every twelve bushels of coal burned (much more efficient than the hand pumps!)
******************The Casino de Paris, located at 16, Rue de Clichy, in the 9th arrondissement, is one of the best known music halls of Paris, with a history dating back to the Eighteenth Century. Contrary to what the name might suggest, it is a performance venue, and not a gambling house. The first building at this location where shows could be mounted was erected by the Duc de Richelieu around 1730, while after the French Revolution the site was renamed Jardin de Tivoli and was the venue for fireworks displays. In 1880 it became the Palace Theatre, which housed shows of different types, including wrestling. It was at the beginning of the First World War, however, that the modern Casino de Paris began to take shape, when the venue was converted into a cinema and music hall. After the bombardments of the First World War caused performances to be interrupted, the revue format was resumed, one which lasted through a good part of the Twentieth Century.
*******************"Style Moderne," often used interchangeably with "Streamline Moderne" or "Art Moderne," is a design style that emerged in the 1930s, characterized by aerodynamic forms, horizontal lines, and smooth, rounded surfaces, often inspired by transportation and industrial design. It represents a streamlined, less ornate version of Art Deco, emphasizing functionality and sleekness. It was first shown at the Paris International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts of 1925.
********************Kohl is a cosmetic product, specifically an eyeliner, traditionally made from crushed stibnite (antimony sulfide). Modern formulations often include galena (lead sulfide) or other pigments like charcoal. Kohl is known for its ability to darken the edges of the eyelids, creating a striking, eye-enhancing effect. Kohl has a long history, with ancient Egyptians using it to define their eyes and protect them from the sun and dust, however there was a resurgence in its use in the 1920s and 1930s. In the 1920s, kohl eyeliner was a popular makeup trend, particularly among women embracing the "flapper" aesthetic. It was used to create a dramatic, "smoky eye" look by smudging it onto the lash line and even the inner and outer corners of the eyes. This contrasted with the more demure, natural looks favoured in the pre-war era.
*********************Whilst the chanteuse became a stock character in the film noir genre — a woman singing sultry songs in a smoky nightclub or cabaret — the word simply means "female singer" in French.
**********************The Savoy Hotel is a luxury hotel located in the Strand in the City of Westminster in central London. Built by the impresario Richard D'Oyly Carte with profits from his Gilbert and Sullivan opera productions, it opened on 6 August 1889. It was the first in the Savoy group of hotels and restaurants owned by Carte's family for over a century. The Savoy was the first hotel in Britain to introduce electric lights throughout the building, electric lifts, bathrooms in most of the lavishly furnished rooms, constant hot and cold running water and many other innovations. Carte hired César Ritz as manager and Auguste Escoffier as chef de cuisine; they established an unprecedented standard of quality in hotel service, entertainment and elegant dining, attracting royalty and other rich and powerful guests and diners. The hotel became Carte's most successful venture. Its bands, Savoy Orpheans and the Savoy Havana Band, became famous. Winston Churchill often took his cabinet to lunch at the hotel. The hotel is now managed by Fairmont Hotels and Resorts. It has been called "London's most famous hotel". It has two hundred and sixty seven guest rooms and panoramic views of the River Thames across Savoy Place and the Thames Embankment. The hotel is a Grade II listed building.
Beautiful as it may be, this decadent and delicious looking picnic on the lawns may not be all it seems, for it is in fact made up of miniatures from my 1:12 miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The silver tray of biscuits and crackers in the foreground has been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. She also made the silver tray of pâté en croute, the basket of bread, the porcelain tray of tomato and cucumber sandwiches in the background, the footed glass bowl of trifle and the glass dish containing butter. She also made the U-Like-It tin of cheeses. Each wedge of cheese is carefully wrapped up in foil and stuck with a label, just like the real u-like-it cheeses were presented when they were manufactured! Frances Knight’s work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination.
The dressed lobster and the cutlery came from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering, as did the cutlery and the gilt edged porcelain plates. The champagne flutes also came from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures. Each is made from real, finely spun glass.
The bottle of champagne is a 1:12 size artisan miniature made of glass by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, as are the other bottles you see. The champagne bottle has real foil wrapped around its neck, and all are hand made from glass. Each bottle features the label from a real winery in France or Germany.
The silver wine cellar in which the champagne bottle sits is made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The second wine cellar in the background and the silver water jug are miniature artisan pieces that I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom.
The two large wicker picnic baskets were made by unknown miniature artisans in America. The floral patterns on the top of the one with handles have been hand painted. The hinged lids lift, just like a real hamper, so things can be put inside. It came with some miniature handmade placemats and napkins inside including the yellow napkins sitting in the bottom right-hand corner of the photograph.
The picnic blanket being used is in reality a corner of one of my gingham shirts, which my partner derisively calls my “picnic blanket shirt”. The grass in the background is real, as this scene was photographed on my front lawn during the height of summer, on a partially sunny day.
ARRIVA Buses Wales VDL Commander 2509 - CX05 AAE sets off from Rhyl on a Sunday journey on route 51 to Denbigh.
The Flickr Lounge-Finding Circles
I needed a new pill box so got a round one with nice big compartments.
A double sided supplement, printed on card and inserted into the July 1934 issue of the British Printer, a trade journal. Monotype were frequent advertisers in such journals and magazines.
This one deals with the economics of upgrading to Monotype machines following the Chancellor's, Neville Chamberlain, lowering of income tax. The reverse side looks at the versatility, such as in large size composition, available on the Monotype machine and the display matrices 'lending library' of typefaces the company maintained.
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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-east of Cavendish Mews, past the British Museum with its classically colonnaded entrance, and beyond Sir Christopher Wren’s architectural masterpiece of St Pauls Cathedral, past Fish Street Hill and Pudding Lane, where the Great Fire of London started. Within sight of the towering monument to the Great Fire of London* with its golden orb atop its Doric column we find ourselves in the south-east corner of the City of London borough in Lower Thames Street near the Billingsgate Dock at the Old Billingsgate Fish Market**. Here we find Edith, Lettice’s maid, who has travelled here with her beau, shop grocer’s boy and sometimes window dresser for grocer Mr. Walter Willison in Binney Street, Mayfair on their Sunday afternoon off. Edith and Frank have been stepping out together for some time now, and hope to make their arrangement formal soon with an official engagement announcement, and they enjoy spending their Sundays off together. In this case, Edith is mixing business with pleasure. She and Frank have come to enjoy watching the hustle and bustle of the market and have some fresh seafood as a Sunday luncheon treat, but Edith also needs to buy some fresh oysters to serve as hors d'oeuvres for the dinner party Lettice is hosting this evening for a group of her Embassy Club coterie friends - fashion designer Gerald Bruton who lives in nearby Soho and married couple Dickie and Margot Channon who live just around the corner from Cavendish Mews in a flat on Hill Street.
Clutching her green leather purse and small wicker basket hooked over her left arm close to her, Edith tries to make herself as unobtrusive as possible to the constant barrage of foot traffic passing through the narrow aisle she stands on the edge of. Old Billingsgate Fish Market is a bustling centre of activity, even though the pre-dawn hours of the handling of fresh catches, and the presence of casual workers and porters has passed. The market is a hive of activity with workers unloading crates, merchants selling their goods, people seeking casual work and the hoteliers, restaurant owners, housewives and maids, like herself, of London buying fish for Sunday luncheon or dinner, or for a meal in the week ahead. Outside the old Victorian market with its ornate cast iron columns, the streets are choked with lorries and horse drawn carts loaded with full and empty crates stamped with different fishmonger names, whilst between them people move precariously in the squashed spaces, coming and going. The sound of blasting horns from impatient drivers, the whinny of horses, the chug of engines, the clop of horses’ hooves, the calls of workmen and the general chatter of people adds to the multi sonorous cacophony of merchants calling out their wares and customers talking, heavy booted footsteps, the slap of fish flesh being tossed about and the rustle of newsprint and butchers’ paper as parcels are wrapped up and handed over into eager hands. The smell of the fish is strong and permeates Edith’s nose, but she doesn’t mind, as fresh fish has always been a treat that she associates with Good Friday fish dinners*** at home with her parents in Harlesden in the north-west of London.
Edith moves and presses herself further back against the edge of a wooden counter belonging to a stallholder as a Billingsgate porter walks past wearing his wood and tarred leather bobbin**** atop his head, upon which he balances fourteen round wicker baskets. She looks agog at the towering pile of baskets, amazed at how casual and cheerful the porter seems as he stops in front of another porter who only has two boxes balanced on his head. The latter lights two cigarettes in his mouth, dropping the match onto the water slicked concrete floor where it is immediately extinguished, and then withdraws one cigarette and offers it to the other porter, who smiles gratefully and thanks him as he takes it, and they chat away casually beneath the cast iron girders of the fish market’s roof.
“You’re starting to look like the fish being sold here, Edith.” Frank’s familiar voice says light heartedly, slicing through the noisy clamour around Edith.
Frank appears before Edith from behind the bulk of rather pudgy fishmonger in a fish blood and gut stained white coverall dustcoat wearing rather incongruously, a rather smart sleek black felt trilby***** hat. In each hand Frank has a sturdy newspaper wrapped parcel.
“Don’t be rude, Frank Leadbetter!” Edith responds, releasing the pent-up breath she didn’t realise she had been holding as she waited for her beau to return to her side.
“Well I’m sorry, Edith,” Frank apologises. “But you do! A slack mouth and eyes agog makes you look very fish like.”
“Oh! Much obliged!” Edith says sarcastically, making a mock bob curtsey. Loosening her hands from where she has them tightly wrapped around her arms, she playfully slaps her sweetheart’s upper arm. “Thank you very much!”
“You know me, Edith. I speak plainly, and I speak as I find.” Frank says as he adjusts the parcel in his left hand.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t when it comes to how you perceive my look.” Edith remarks a little peevishly. “Especially if it is an unflattering one. My Mum always says that if you can’t say anything nice, then you are best to say nothing at all.” She nods seriously.
“Does that mean that when you ask me whether you look pretty in your latest homemade frock you plan to wear to the Hammersmith Palais******, I should say yes, you do?”
“Don’t be cheeky!” Edith slaps Frank playfully again before accepting one of the parcels from him, feeling the warmth of it against her palm through her ecru lace gloves. “And anyway,” she adds. “If I want an honest opinion about my looks, I’ll seek out Hilda, thank you very much.”
“For a favourable opinion, more like!” snorts Frank. “Hilda doesn’t know the first thing about fashion, or care, and you know it. She’s not the least bit interested in that stuff. The only reason why she even wears anything remotely fashionable is because you give it to her, or insist she buys it.”
“Hilda’s not that bad, Frank.”
Frank doesn’t answer, but gives her a doubtful look, followed by one of his endearing gormless grins as he starts to tear at the newspaper of his own parcel.
“You took your time,” Edith opines as she starts to tear at her own parcel. “That isn’t because you went and bought some jellied eels******* for us to eat, is it?”
“As if I’d put cold jellied eels in with hot chips!” Frank replies with incredulity, pulling back the last of the newspaper and holding out the pile of steaming hot golden chips in his palm for Edith to see. Before he can react, Edith reaches forward and like one of the many scavenging seagulls around the fish market and Billingsgate Dock, she snatches one of his chips between her right index finger and thumb. “Here!” Frank blasts. “Now who’s being cheeky?”
Edith sighs with satisfaction as she pops the chip into her mouth, lowering her lids with delight as she feels the hot mass of flavoursome potato and batter fill her senses as she chews it. Swallowing she says, ignoring her sweetheart’s remark, “That’s just as well then, because I keep telling you, the best jellied eels come out of the Whitechapel eel, pie and mash house******** in Petticoat Lane********.”
“Says you, Edith.” Frank retorts as he watches Edith with beady eyes as she opens her own parcel of hot chips wrapped in newspaper*********, looking for an opportunity to steal a steaming hot chip from her. “There I must disagree with you. The best jellied eels come from right here in the Old Billingsgate Fish Market.”
“Have you ever tried the eels at Mrs. Cooke’s**********, Frank?”
“No, but I don’t need to,” Frank says with a smirk, as he quickly snatches two chips from atop Edith’s pile. He hurriedly stuffs them into his mouth and gobbles them up greedily, smiling as Edith’s eyes grow wide in surprise before she gives him a forgiving smile that tells him that his sweetheart isn’t really cross with him for taking two of her chips. Swallowing hard with a loud gulp that makes his Adam’s apple bounce up his throat above the line of his stiffened shirt collar*********** and tie, he goes on, “Because the jellied eels here are the best.” He looks at her defiantly. “Have you ever had jellied eels from here, Edith?”
“Well no,” Edith answers. Her look becomes defiant as she parrots Frank. “But then again, I don’t need to, since Mrs. Cooke’s jellied eels are the best. We should go there some time.”
“I’d rather save my pennies and take you for a proper, slap-up, meal at my chum Giuseppe’s little Italian restaurant up the Islington in Little Italy************, Edith.”
“So you said, that first afternoon I introduced you to my Mum and Dad,” remarks Edith as she picks up another hot chip daintily between her thumb and forefinger. “And subsequently, but you’ve yet to take me.”
“Well, we’ll have to remedy that,” Frank replies as he takes up three of his own chips with the fingers of his right hand. “And soon.”
“I’d like that Frank.” Edith opines with a smile.
The pair chuckle good naturedly and much away on their hot chips for a moment in companionable silence whilst around them the hustle and bustle of the fish market continues. “Watch out lad!” a serious voice booms behind Frank, startling him and making him jump. Stepping aside he lets a burly looking porter in a grubby ochre coloured dustcoat with short sleeves over the top of a navy woollen cable knit jumper ease past. The porter pushes a trolley loaded up with long wooden crates stencilled ‘Fleetwood Fish Merchants Association’************* in black lettering stamped crudely against the roughly planed planks of wood making up each box. He is closely followed by a much thinner, more nervous and better dressed older gentleman with a wrinkled face, dressed in a suit and bowler hat, with a silver fob chain************** hanging heavily from his black waistcoat. “There’s a cart waiting outside on Lower Thames Street.” The older man directs with a waving finger that the porter cannot see behind his broad back. As he passes, Frank thinks that with his nose in the air and a superior look on his face, the better dressed man has the appearance and stance of a butler or manservant of some kind. “Be careful with those!” the older man mutters irritably. “They are going to be served at Her Ladyship’s dinner tonight.” Frank nods at Edith with a knowing wink, understanding that she has thought the same of the older man as she sums him up as he passes. “I’m sure ‘er laydeeship and ‘er guests won’t taste no diff’rence wiv these fish once they’ve been fried up good n’ proper, whevva they’s been jostled ‘bout a bit or not.” the porter replies in his Cockney accent with a mirth filled chuckle. “Insolent man!” the toffee nosed butler mutters indignantly in reply. Edith and Frank chuckle again.
“So,” Edith says, returning to their earlier topic of conversation. “Where were you then, if you weren’t fetching me the famously good, but not as good as Mrs. Cooke’s, Old Billingsgate Fish Market jellied eels, then Frank?”
“What?” Frank asks before looking down and stuffing another claw full of greasy chips into his mouth.
“Where were you, Frank?” Edith reiterates, indicating at Frank with the chip she has just picked up.
“Gosh! Look at that one then!” Frank mutters through a mouth of half chewed hot potato and batter as he points to another porter in the middle distance who is parting the milling crowd of customers as he walks with four crates atop his bobbin. “How they don’t get a headache carrying those boxes on their heads, I’ll never know! My head’s sore just looking at him. Don’t you agree, Edith?”
Edith gives her beau a peculiar look. “You’re being remarkably mysterious, Frank.” Her brow crumples. “Are you doing it on purpose?”
“I’m not being mysterious!” Frank says with a disbelieving laugh.
“Then stop changing the subject. Where were you?” Edith persists.
Frank sighs. “Haven’t you ever heard of a queue before, Edith?” he answers.
“Yes, but there is a fish and chippery just over there,” Edith points through the sea of moving people around them to a stallholder selling hot chips and battered fish packaged up in newspaper to the milling crowd. “And you were gone a lot longer than it took for people to get served over there, Frank. And people were queuing.” She takes the chip and slips it into her own mouth, chewing it as she looks expectantly at Frank, awaiting an explanation.
“Well, these aren’t just any old chips you know.”
Edith pulls a doubtful face, her pretty face screwing up dubiously. “Surely you aren’t going to tell me that these hot chips are better than any others served by any of the other fish and chippery stalls here?”
“Now you know that some hot chips are better than others, Edith,” Frank continues, shaking his head. “And he’s the best there is in the Old Billingsgate Fish Market. Says it’s his batter that makes all the difference.” He taps his nose knowingly. “Trust me.”
“Well, they are good,” Edith agrees. “But I still don’t believe you, Frank Leadbetter, and,” she adds. “I still think that you are being mysterious, and are up to something.”
“I’m not up to anything, Edith!”
“I hope you aren’t thinking of proposing to me here in the middle of the busy fish market!”
Frank coughs and splutters, spitting out a few pieces of partially masticated chip pulp, which flies through the air, before handing a short distance away on the ground where it is promptly squashed unknowingly onto the wet concrete floor by the old fashioned pre-war Edwardian boot of an older looking housewife in a black three quarter length coat and matching cloche hat with a steely look of determination on her face as she trudges forth with her wicker basket in the crook of her arm. He muffles his barrage of coughs with the back of his right hand, before delving into his trouser pocket and withdrawing a crumpled white handkerchief.
Whilst he recovers his breath, Edith remarks with a smile, “Well, I’ll take that as a no, then.”
“Are you so desperate… to marry me… Edith Watsford,” Frank huffs as he tries to answer his sweetheart whilst still catching his breath and swallowing gulps of fishy air. “That you’d have… have me propose to you in a busy fish market?” When Edith giggles, he goes on, “I wouldn’t call Old Billingsgate the most romantic of rendezvous to propose marriage in, even if there would be a gawking crowd of onlookers if I bent down on one knee and proposed to you here and now.”
Edith chuckles again. “I suppose you’re right, Frank. And, I wouldn’t want you to propose to me here.”
“Well, I’m glad we have that point settled then.” Frank sighs with a nod.
“Just imagine the stories we’d tell the children on our anniversary when they ask where you proposed, Frank!” Edith chuckles. “Oh, your dad proposed to me in the middle of the Old Billingsgate Fish Market. It was the most romantic moment of my life!”
Frank chuckles. “I imagine that!”
“But you still haven’t told me why you took so long to come back with the chips, Frank.”
“But I have, Edith!” Frank says with exasperation. “I told you, it was the queues. Sidney had the best fish and chips to be had in Old Billingsgate. You have to be patient.”
Edith eats another two chips as her greatly reduce pile disappears. “You’re a terrible liar, Frank.”
Frank sighs in vexation as he finishes the last of his chips and bunches the greasy paper together in a ball in his hands. “How do you know I’m not telling the truth?”
Edith chuckles. “That’s my secret, Frank.”
“That’s jolly unfair, Edith!” Frank bemoans, looking imploringly at Edith with large, doleful blue eyes.
“Oh alright! I’ll tell you, Frank.” Edith accedes.
“Jolly good Edith.”
“But I’m not giving away all my secrets.” she adds. “I need to have some advantages as your future wife.”
“How?” Frank persists. “How do you know that I’m lying? Tell me!”
“We’ve been stepping out together for quite some time now, dear Frank.” Edith says kindly. “So, I’ve had plenty of time to observe you. When you don’t want to tell the truth, you have a habit of pretending you haven’t heard what was said, and trying to change the subject too quickly.” She shakes her head and smiles. “Besides, you won’t look me in the eye when you are telling a lie.”
Frank huffs. “Oh alright! Alright! I just ran into a friend when I went to buy us hot chips.” He looks Edith squarely in the eyes with an earnest look as he speaks. “We were chatting.”
“That’s better!” Edith smiles. “Now I know you are telling me the truth. What friend?”
“Well, he’s one of the chaps who lodges at my boarding house, actually. John Simpkin. But he’s a friend too.”
“What, here?”
“Yes.”
“Well that just shows you, doesn’t it?”
“Shows me what, Edith?”
“How even in a large city like London, you can still bump into friends in the most unlikely of places.”
Frank holds out his hand as Edith finishes the last of her hot chips. He screws up her newspaper into a ball as she hands it to him. He walks to a nearby dustbin and drops both his and her used greasy papers into it before wandering back over to her.
“Well, shall we go and get your Miss Lettice her dozen oysters for tonight’s dinner, then?”
“Yes!” Edith says, taking her beau’s proffered arm, with a smile. “I’d like that, Mr. Leadbetter. Do you know who sells the best oysters here by chance?”
“Right this way, Miss Watsford.” Frank replies, as slowly the pair of sweethearts meld into the slowly moving crowd, jostling for space beneath the cast iron girders of the Old Billingsgate Fish Market.
*The Monument to the Great Fire of London, more commonly known simply as the Monument, is a fluted Doric column, situated near the northern end of London Bridge. Commemorating the Great Fire of London, it stands at the junction of Monument Street and Fish Street Hill, two hundred and two feet in height and two hundred and two feet west of the spot in Pudding Lane where the Great Fire started on the 2nd of September 1666. Constructed between 1671 and 1677, it was built on the site of St Margaret, New Fish Street, the first church to be destroyed by the Great Fire. Another monument, the Golden Boy of Pye Corner, marks the point near Smithfield where the fire was stopped. The Monument comprises a Doric column built of Portland stone topped with a gilded urn of fire. It was designed by Robert Hooke. Its height marks its distance from the site of the shop of Thomas Farriner (or Farynor), the king's baker, where the blaze began. The viewing platform near the top of the Monument is reached by a narrow winding staircase of three hundred and eleven steps. A mesh cage was added in the mid Nineteenth Century to prevent people jumping to the ground, after six people died by suicide there between 1788 and 1842.
**In the 1920s when this story is set, the Old Billingsgate Fish Market was located on Lower Thames Street in the City of London, near the River Thames. It was a bustling riverside market, famous for being the largest fish market in the United Kingdom. The market was housed in a Victorian building that had been constructed in 1876. The first Billingsgate Market building was constructed on Lower Thames Street in 1850 by the builder John Jay, and the fish market was moved off the streets into its new riverside building. This was demolished in around 1873 and replaced by an arcaded market hall designed by City architect Horace Jones and built by John Mowlem and Co., and even though it was a new building, it was still known as the “Old Billingsgate Fish Market”. The building still stands on the site today although it no longer houses a market. In 1982, the fish market itself was relocated to a new site on the Isle of Dogs in the East End. The 1875 building was then refurbished by architect Richard Rogers, originally to provide office accommodation. Now used as an events venue, it remains a major London landmark.
***Eating fish on Good Friday is a tradition rooted in religious customs, specifically within Christianity. Many Christians abstain from eating meat on Good Friday, which is the day they commemorate the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, and fish is often consumed as an alternative. This practice stems from the idea that fish are cold-blooded and therefore distinct from the "flesh" of warm-blooded animals, making them acceptable to eat during periods of abstinence from meat.
****Billingsgate fish porters used specially designed hats, often referred to as "bobbins," to help them balance baskets and boxes on their heads. These hats, typically made from wood and tarred leather, featured a flat, hardened top that provided a stable platform for the cargo. This design allowed porters to carry large, rectangular boxes or stacks of round baskets of fish with relative ease and efficiency.
*****The trilby hat was invented in 1895, during the stage adaptation of George du Maurier's novel "Trilby". The hat gained popularity as a fashion item after the play's debut in London, and was named after the novel's main character.
******The Hammersmith Palais de Danse, in its last years simply named Hammersmith Palais, was a dance hall and entertainment venue in Hammersmith, London, England that operated from 1919 until 2007. It was the first palais de danse to be built in Britain.
*******Jellied eels is a traditional English dish that originated in the Eighteenth Century, primarily in the East End of London. The dish consists of chopped eels boiled in a spiced stock that is allowed to cool and set, forming a jelly. It is usually served cold. Eels were historically a cheap, nutritious and readily available food source for the people of London; European eels were once so common in the Thames that nets were set as far upriver as London itself, and eels became a staple for London's poor.
********The earliest known eel, pie and mash houses opened in London in the Eighteenth Century, and the oldest surviving shop, M.Manze in Peckham, has been open since 1902. At the end of the Second World War, there were around one hundred eel, pie and mash houses in London. In 1995, there were 87. In the present day, there are relatively few eel, pie and mash shops left as Londoners’ tastes change, although jellied eels are sold in some of London’s delicatessens and supermarkets for those who fancy the experience of jellied eels at home.
********Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.
*********Fish and chips were traditionally wrapped in newspaper as a way to keep them warm and absorb excess grease, while also being a readily available and inexpensive packaging material. However, this practice is now largely discontinued due to hygiene concerns, with the potential for ink from the newspaper to leach into the food.
**********F. Cooke is a well-known name in London's pie and mash scene, with a history rooted in East London. While there isn't a specific F. Cooke shop currently in Whitechapel, their history is closely tied to the area and they are one of the oldest pie and mash establishments, originally founded in East London. F. Cooke's has a strong reputation for traditional pie and mash, including eel pies, and is known for its family-run business and classic recipes.
***********Removable or detachable collars were shirt collars designed to be separate from the shirt itself and fastened with studs or other mechanisms. They were popular in the Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries, primarily among men who wore white shirts as part of their business or formal attire.
************The Italian quarter of London, known commonly today as “Little Italy” is an Italian ethnic enclave in London. Little Italy’s core historical borders are usually placed at Clerkenwell Road, Farringdon Road and Rosebery Avenue - the Saffron Hill area of Clerkenwell. Clerkenwell spans Camden Borough and Islington Borough. Saffron Hill and St. Peter’s Italian Catholic Church fall within the Camden side. However, even though this was the traditional enclave for Italians, immigrants moved elsewhere in London, bleeding into areas like Islington and Soho where they established bars, cafes and restaurants which sold Italian cuisine and wines.
*************The Fleetwood Fish Merchants Association (FFMA) is a group in Fleetwood, the fishing town in Lancashire, focused on the fish and seafood processing industry. Established in the late Nineteenth Century, the Fleetwood Fish Merchants Association helps to represent the community of smaller fisheries and fishermen in and around Fleetwood, helping to supply fresh fish to Londoners.
**************A fob chain, also known as an Albert chain, is a decorative chain, originally designed for pocket watches, that typically features a T-bar or dog clip on one end to attach to the watch and often includes a fob (ornament or charm) on the other end.
This may look like a corner of the busy Old Billingsgate Market to you, with its wooden crates and pallets of fish, but the truth is that this scene is made up entirely with pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for un this tableau include:
The pallet of fish on ice in the centre of the image comes from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The fish and all the ice is completely removable, and if you have noticed ice cubes inside some of the wine and champagne coolers in some of my past images from this series, I can tell you that the same ice cubes have been used.
Edith’s handbag handmade from soft leather is part of a larger collection of hats and bags that I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel. Edith’s small wicker basket is another miniature from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures.
Made of polymer clay glazed to look oily and stuck to miniature newspaper print, the two servings of golden hot chips on the bench were made in England by hand by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination.
The boxes you see around the fish stall came from a specialist stockist of 1:12 miniatures on E-Bay. They have been aged and weathered on purpose.
The leaves of lettuce sticking out of the top box on the left are artisan made of very thin sheets of clay and are beautifully detailed. I acquired them from an auction house some twenty years ago as part of a lot made up of miniature artisan food.
The brick wall at the back is a very special piece, and one of my more recent additions to my miniatures collection. Made painstakingly by hand, this was made by my very dear Flickr friend and artist Kim Hagar (www.flickr.com/photos/bkhagar_gallery/), she surprised me with this amazing piece entitled “Wall” as a Christmas gift, with the intention that I use it in my miniatures photos. Each brick has been individually cut and then worn to give texture before being stuck to the backing board and then painted. She has created several floors in the same way for some of her own miniature projects which you can see in her “In Miniature” album here: www.flickr.com/photos/bkhagar_gallery/albums/721777203007...
The advertising posters stuck on the brick wall are all 1:12 size replicas of real advertisements for Rinso, Gold Flake cigarettes, Hartley’s Table Jellies, Hovis Bread and Bisto Gravy from the 1920s. They have been printed with quality and high attention to detail on thick card. I acquired them all from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom.
Rinso, was a brand of laundry soap and detergent, which was first introduced in the early Twentieth Century by the chemist Robert Spear Hudson (who also invented Hudson’s Soap). In 1908, Lever Brothers acquired R.S. Hudson, including the Rinso brand. Lever Brothers introduced Rinso to the United States in 1918, marking it as one of the first mass-marketed soap powders. Rinso gaining popularity as a replacement for bar soap. Rinso gained popularity for its effectiveness in cleaning clothes and was widely advertised, even sponsoring popular radio programs. While initially successful, Rinso eventually faced declining sales due to competition from newer detergents like Tide in the 1950s. In the mid-1960s, Rinso was rebranded as "Sunshine Rinso" but sales did not improve. By the mid-1970s, Rinso was removed from store shelves, though Rinso Blue, a liquid detergent, remained available in the US until the late 1980s.
W.D. and H.O. Wills, a prominent tobacco company, introduced Gold Flake cigarettes around 1901. The brand became known for its marketing tactics, including the use of cigarette cards to encourage collectability and brand loyalty. At this time, the dangers of smoking were not yet widely known, and cigarette companies were able to advertise and promote their products freely. Over time, Gold Flake adapted its marketing and messaging. While maintaining its association with high quality and a premium feel, the brand expanded its target audience to include youth and lower socioeconomic classes. The messaging also evolved from emphasizing a "gracious" lifestyle to celebrating life experiences. ITC Limited launched the Gold Flake brand in India in the 1970s. The brand was initially positioned as a premium cigarette, targeting the affluent adult male segment of the population. It was associated with a lifestyle of respectability and aspiration. Gold Flake remains a widely sold cigarette brand in India, available in various forms like plain, filtered, and lights. The brand's history reflects the changing landscape of the tobacco industry, including evolving marketing strategies and growing awareness of the health risks associated with smoking.
Hartley's is a British brand of marmalades, jams and jellies. Hartley's products are manufactured at Histon, Cambridgeshire. Hartley's was a grocers founded by the entrepreneur Sir William Pickles Hartley in Colne which is now in the borough of Pendle, Lancashire. In 1871, a supplier failed to deliver a consignment of jam, so William made his own and packaged it in his own design earthenware pots. It sold well, and in 1874, the business moved to Bootle, near Liverpool, and marmalade and jelly was also produced. In 1884, the business was incorporated as William Hartley & Sons Limited and in 1886, it moved to Aintree, Liverpool where a new factory was built. Two years after the new factory had been opened in Aintree, Hartley constructed a purpose built village for the key employees in his company. The village was designed by Leek based father and son architects William Sugden and William Larner Sugden after they had won an architectural competition. The village had a total of forty nine houses, which surrounded a central bowling green, and later expansion took the total number of houses to seventy one. Within the village, all of the streets were named after ingredients in jam, including Sugar Street, Red Currant Court and Cherry Row. A second factory in Bermondsey, South London opened in 1901, supplied with pots and jars in its early decades from a facility in Rutherglen, Scotland acquired in 1898. With production having moved to Cambridgeshire in the 1960s, the Bermondsey factory was later converted into luxury apartments in 2003. The Hartley Village in Aintree was made a conservation area in 2011. In 2020, Hartley's No Added Sugar Apple Jelly Pot won the Lausanne Index Prize - Bronze Award.
Hovis Ltd is a British company that produces flour, yeast and bread. Founded in Stoke-on-Trent, it began mass-production in Macclesfield in 1886. The Hovis process was patented on the 6th of October 1887 by Richard "Stoney" Smith, and S. Fitton and Sons Ltd developed the brand, milling the flour and selling it along with Hovis-branded baking tins to other bakers. The name was coined in 1890 by London student Herbert Grime in a national competition set by S. Fitton and Sons Ltd to find a trading name for their patent flour which was rich in wheat germ. Grime won twenty-five pounds when he coined the word from the Latin phrase hominis vis, "the strength of man". The company became the Hovis Bread Flour Company Limited in 1898. When the abundance of certain B vitamins in wheatgerm was reported in 1924, Hovis increased in popularity.
The first Bisto product, in 1908, was a meat-flavoured gravy powder, which rapidly became a bestseller in Britain. It was added to gravies to give a richer taste and aroma. Invented by Messrs Roberts and Patterson, it was named "Bisto" because it "Browns, Seasons and Thickens in One". Bisto Gravy is still a household name in Britain and Ireland today, and the brand is currently owned by Premier Foods.
July 22, 2013 - The FDA is advising consumers not to purchase or use "Volcano," a product promoted and sold for sexual enhancement. The product was found to contain undeclared desmethyl carbodenafil, dimethylsildenafil, dapoxetine. For more information, go to www.fda.gov/safety/recalls/ucm361709.htm
And read these FDA Consumer Updates:
Beware of Fraudulent ‘Dietary Supplements’
"All Natural" Alternatives for Erectile Dysfunction: A Risky Proposition
ARRIVA Buses Wales Optare Solo 696 - CX09 BGZ sets off from Rhyl on a Sunday journey on route 36 Circular via Rhuddlan, Dyserth & Prestatyn.
From October 1961 Supplement to the June 1961 Engineering Report to the San Francisco Bay Area Rapid Transit District—Four County System.
The thing I didn't quite catch before is that the Geary Line would have been routed into the Transbay Tube, while the earlier Marin Line would have had no track connections to the rest of the system.
Osprey with prey (bird)? We were on Wolf Rd. south of 159th st when we saw a bird sitting in the corn field. Not sure what it was I did a U turn & realized it was an Osprey. At 1st we thought it might be injured. I grabbed the camera & crossed the street to avoid traffic. All of a sudden it took off with what I think is a bird in it's talon. Believing Osprey only ate fish I went on line & found out that 99% of their diet is fish but sometimes they will eat frogs,small animals & birds .
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