(am I the only person who looks at them and thinks Oxford St is the last place I reckon anyone would think “Oh! I must just buy some golf clubs”?) Anyway, I point blank refused. Instead I brought in a big old 1950s vintage circus sign I had come across in my travels around the vintage markets of Britain. It says “Come One, Come All to The Greatest Show on Earth!” I got Jan to suspend it from the ceiling in Hardy’s central window with flashing light bulbs all around. We framed each window with striped red and white Big Top style curtains, which Bernie and Susan in Haberdashery quickly ran up in their workshop. Since the success of Hardy’s rebirth – the much-loved Irish sisters run Make Do and Mend craft classes from this room. They are marvellous at it and the courses are incredibly popular. Their craft room is decorated with 1950s floral wallpaper, strings of vintage bunting hang above the gorgeous old black and gold Singer sewing machines.
Iris also made a beautiful circus party picnic display in one window using all the bright red and yellow outdoor furniture and Tupperware that Rupert wanted to get rid of. There are fold out enamel tables covered in a glorious spread of food. Another window has a complete vintage Playmobil Romana circus set up complete with caravans, a big top with swinging trapeze artists, clowns and acrobats riding on horseback.
In one window we’ve dressed up mannequins to look like super-chic clowns – one is wearing a stunning sequinned harlequin dress, the other a ruffled blouse with black and white geometric Sportsluxe trousers, with bright cherry-red shoes. We even have one dressed as a ringmaster in jodhpurs and a vintage jacket. Myself, Lily and Velna designed and printed some giant arrows that say things like “Step Right Up!” “This Way” “Roll Up! Roll Up!” in a classic American West style font. These are hung around the store to encourage customers to check out the sales in each department. The grand atrium has been filled with red and white helium balloons floating above shoppers’ heads.
The result: the store has been full to bursting every single day of the Sale.
But now the new season is upon us and it’s time to fill the store with Autumn/Winter treasures. I stare blankly around me – trying to picture the next displays. Slowly, surely and completely reassuringly the cogs begin to turn.
I run downstairs to menswear with my notepad and pencil and start sketching out a display for the maritime clocks and naval uniforms.
‘Well?’ I ask, as Rupert sits in his green leather and mahogany swing chair in his wood panelled office. It is 9am and we’re having our weekly merchandising meeting where I bring him all my new ideas for shop displays, as well as new stock I’ve sourced.
He is tentatively turning and appraising the shoes I saw in Angelo’s window. He places them back on the desk in front of him. This is it. My big moment. I mentally correct myself. No, it’s David Angelo’ s big moment.
I’ve just finished telling Rupert a potted history of Angelo’s and its demise. I’ve laid out David’s designs and his father’s shoes on the table – and my display plans on a board. And I’ve tentatively suggested that we stock a bespoke collection designed exclusively for us.
‘Well, Evie...’ Rupert begins slowly. ‘Well... ah, yes. I can see that these have an exquisite cut, line and detail, the hand-stitching is wonderful. And I love your idea for a launch. That display really is something. But are his designs and this craftsmanship really superior to any other shoes, and therefore, worth such a big fanfare in Hardy’s?’ he questions thoughtfully.
I feel my heart barrel to the floor as I think of David and all the promises I made to him. I was completely unprofessional, jumping the gun like that. What right did I have to play God, to say I can save his shop without talking to Rupert and asking his opinion first? I open my mouth to try to
Iris also made a beautiful circus party picnic display in one window using all the bright red and yellow outdoor furniture and Tupperware that Rupert wanted to get rid of. There are fold out enamel tables covered in a glorious spread of food. Another window has a complete vintage Playmobil Romana circus set up complete with caravans, a big top with swinging trapeze artists, clowns and acrobats riding on horseback.
In one window we’ve dressed up mannequins to look like super-chic clowns – one is wearing a stunning sequinned harlequin dress, the other a ruffled blouse with black and white geometric Sportsluxe trousers, with bright cherry-red shoes. We even have one dressed as a ringmaster in jodhpurs and a vintage jacket. Myself, Lily and Velna designed and printed some giant arrows that say things like “Step Right Up!” “This Way” “Roll Up! Roll Up!” in a classic American West style font. These are hung around the store to encourage customers to check out the sales in each department. The grand atrium has been filled with red and white helium balloons floating above shoppers’ heads.
The result: the store has been full to bursting every single day of the Sale.
But now the new season is upon us and it’s time to fill the store with Autumn/Winter treasures. I stare blankly around me – trying to picture the next displays. Slowly, surely and completely reassuringly the cogs begin to turn.
I run downstairs to menswear with my notepad and pencil and start sketching out a display for the maritime clocks and naval uniforms.
‘Well?’ I ask, as Rupert sits in his green leather and mahogany swing chair in his wood panelled office. It is 9am and we’re having our weekly merchandising meeting where I bring him all my new ideas for shop displays, as well as new stock I’ve sourced.
He is tentatively turning and appraising the shoes I saw in Angelo’s window. He places them back on the desk in front of him. This is it. My big moment. I mentally correct myself. No, it’s David Angelo’ s big moment.
I’ve just finished telling Rupert a potted history of Angelo’s and its demise. I’ve laid out David’s designs and his father’s shoes on the table – and my display plans on a board. And I’ve tentatively suggested that we stock a bespoke collection designed exclusively for us.
‘Well, Evie...’ Rupert begins slowly. ‘Well... ah, yes. I can see that these have an exquisite cut, line and detail, the hand-stitching is wonderful. And I love your idea for a launch. That display really is something. But are his designs and this craftsmanship really superior to any other shoes, and therefore, worth such a big fanfare in Hardy’s?’ he questions thoughtfully.
I feel my heart barrel to the floor as I think of David and all the promises I made to him. I was completely unprofessional, jumping the gun like that. What right did I have to play God, to say I can save his shop without talking to Rupert and asking his opinion first? I open my mouth to try to
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