The shops around The Royal Exchange – Searle & Co, cigars and stale pastries

Wandering around The Royal Exchange in The City of London on a quiet Sunday afternoon I happened to notice what might be the tiniest light well I have ever seen. I'd say its approx 40cm x 30cm. It is one of many interesting details around this island of commerce... 

But before I show you some nice things, let's consider the window display next door at No.31 where unsold pies and pastries were festering and going stale in the window. Ugh. 

I have often mused what happens to all the unsold produce of this kind. How do companies calculate how many units they should make so as not be left with so many unsold? It's clear by this demonstration that they clearly have their sums wrong. Bad calculations like this mean the fresh unit price is often too high being. I personally think it's outrageous to charge over £3 for one of these little snacks. I've since seen another branch of Chango also displaying produce that's past its use-by date. For the life of me I cannot understand why they think this is a good idea. It looks lazy and ugly. They should bake less pies, give the unsold ones to the homeless and display photos in the window when the shops are closed. 

Now I've got that off my chest, let's look at the old hand-painted door numbers around The Royal Exchange at shoulder level, some dating from at least 100 years ago:

Number 33, is today another bun shop (but with no unsold produce in the window) at it still sports the signage and fittings from when this used to be Botterill's cigar shop. The company had been trading from here and at 70 Cheapside since at least 1852 under the name of G. Botterill. I think fair to assume that H is the son. This small shop interior has many authentic fittings:

It was still a cigar shop until October 2016 as shown here when it was J. Redford & Co. 

Around the corner, in Cornhill, there are two lovely hand-painted number nines:  

Then, on the East side of the block, Mount Blanc and Aspinal site within shops that retain some nice windows and fittings, but no numbers:

But my favourite shop here is Searle & Co at No.1, on the Cornhill side, where a host of fabulous fittings are still in place – punched metal, polished brass, buffed granite, carved wood, parquet flooring, bronze window frames, and more. Much of this probably dates back to at least the 1880s when this was owned by James Murray & Co, a watch and clock maker. By 1910, Frederick Clarke, also a watchmaker, was here before Searle & Co who arrived took on the shop in 1933. 

Walter Henry Searle and family had been trading in the City of London since 1893. Sadly, the company closed in 2021 and the stock was sold at auction. Since then the shop has remained empty, as shown in my photos – more info here on Fellows site which includes some interestng history and stories about Searles. Peering inside the shop it's possible to see some of the display cabinets mentioned in that link and an elegantly-designed safe made by Milners: 

Let's see what evolves. As with the cigar store, this company has long been a fixture at this site, so it's sad to see them go. It'll probably be turned into another pastries shop.

Another tiled shop front has gone – Express Dairies, 300 Westbourne Grove, Notting Hill

There seems to be a tile removal epidemic... as if it's not bad enough painting over tiles as per here and here and here, at least the paint can one day be removed to reveal the fired ceramics beneath. 

But in many places I am seeing lovely old tiles on old butcher shops, bakeries and dairies completely removed and replaced, as here in Notting Hill where a lovely shop front for a branch of Express Dairies that used to look like this....

... now looks like this (1st August 2024):

I discovered this latest bit of blandification yesterday whilst leading my Notting Hill Ghostsigns guided walk, this shop being one of the places I talk about along the route. It has for the past year it so been standing empty, waiting for a new occupant. Its intact exterior was unusual as I have not seen the like elsewhere in London, so I was stunned to see that so much of the shop's century-old façade hade been revamped. 

I say 'revamped' because, if you look closely, you'll see that they (whoever they is/are) have removed all the original features, excluding the tiles on the wall to the right, and replaced them with modern versions of the same proportion. I cannot believe that these alterations have been achieved by anyone who lives locally or has a link to the area, especially as there are other restored shops and businesses in this are such as the green tiles at Mary’s Living and Giving and the Electric Cinema. 

The bizarre fakery installed here echoes the shape and size of the window frames and the door, and includes panels of blue tiles which I assume have been affixed directly on top of the old ones. Compare and contrast 2022 with 2024 here:

I mean, what's the point?! It's not even a decent pastiche! Perhaps this is all down to Health and Safety – I have been told in the past, when other shops of a similar style have been gutted or over-panelled, that cracked tiles are unhygienic. If so, this tells us that this will be a food outlet of some kind. But this is the exterior, not the interior.  

These next pics contrast the depth, colour and variation within the old artisan/hand-made deep blue tiles on the left, with the flat blue panels installed in 2024, right:

These pics better highlight how the shape and style of the original front door has been echoed in its modern replacement. It's a wonder that they didn't also include a little plastic 'beware of the dog' badge as per the old one. I am hoping that the terrazzo threshold still remains under that sheet of cardboard. 

But, if like-for-like was the brief or intention here, why not use modern products that better resemble the 1920's originals? There are many companies today making very good brushed aluminium frames, and joiners who can produce good quality bespoke wooden doors. Why use such bland products that will not last ten years, let alone a century? Because it's cheaper, but only in the short term.

This next group of pics shows how good the shop looked a few years ago. Note the mechanism for the retractable sun blind/awning which ran across the whole front of the shop (also removed as part of the revamp), the ED logo in white and gold within glass panels and the Jazz Age geometrics of the ventilation grille at low level.

This, to me, is such a great loss as I am unaware of any other Express Dairy shops that still retain their original logos and tiles – please do let me know if you have any further information.

Chemists, Chymists, Pharmacists and Druggists – three in one week

Last week, on Monday 17th June, I was in North West London presenting a talk for the Northwood Hills U3A group. Afterwards I went to Wembley to check on a couple of ghostsigns – this one for a Daimler dealer and this one for a butcher's shop. I am glad to report that both are still intact. 

As I made my way towards the station, a bus came along headed for Ealing Broadway and so I got on that instead. I do like a mystery tour, and sitting on the top deck of a bus is a wonderful way to see places I barely know. The route went through Alperton (all new to me) and ended at bus stop 'A' at the northern end of The Broadway here.

As I disembarked, I noticed a marvellous old chemist shop at No.36 – much of D.Lewis's Art Nouveau shop fittings are intact both inside and out. Coloured glass, curved windows, bronze fittings, marble plinths and more. The interior looks to have much of the wooden shelving, display cases and drawers. For some reason I didn't go inside. Instead, I just took a couple of snaps making a mental note to return and properly investigate the whole parade another day when I had more time.

Two days later I was in Woodford, waiting for a friend and admiring the parade of shops that is also called The Broadway. I noticed at number 12 a carved and gilded sign for Chrystall, chemist and druggist. The shop also boasts lovely window displays which include metal frames, and curved and red glass etched with the services available. 

When my friend arrived, we went inside to investigate the shop's interior and found that the whole left side still retains it's wooden displays and shelving. I took just one photo, of the exterior, shown above right (the one on the left is a google screen grab from here). We walked along the street to see what other similar delights might be on offer and found that most of this parade still has elements of the original shops. As we walked past number 12 (four doors from the chemist, consecutive numbering, and now Euronics) I happened to notice that there were words at low level around the glass windows advertising confectionary [sic] and chocolates. 

Looking into the shop, I noticed that they had an old carved and gilded sign on the side wall at the rear of the shop, and it looked practically the same as the one at the chemist's. We went inside and chatted to the staff, who were lovely. Whilst they didn't know much about the sign or the Hermann family, they were clearly proud to have this impressive chunk of local history on their wall:

 

This sign for Hermann Brothers, Pastry cooks and confectioners (correctly spelled!) is very impressive and unlike any I have seen before. Rather than a plain black background, this has a marble green and black effect which I am sure would have been top-of-the-range expensive, hinting at the quality of products the Hermann Bros would have made and the kind of well-to-do people that would have lived in this area before the tube line arrived. The bottom right corner of the sign shows that the sign was made by Brilliant Signs* of Grays Inn Road, though I'd be surprised if they installed the sloppily applied/wonky later addition of 'Limited' as a stuck on patch (under Bros). It's interesting that 'confectioner' is spelled with an 'e' on the sign board but with an 'a' within the etched glass. 

And then, on Friday 21st June, I was wandering through Tyburnia, Connaught Village and the Hyde Park Estate, following a route specified in an old 1960's guidebook about old pubs and taverns to see if what was written about then was still in place today. I then crossed over Edgware Road and headed along Crawford Street, a street that also contains remnants of Victorian shops. It includes the marvelllous signage and multicoloured lantern of Meacher, Higgins & Thomas, chemists:

Again, I only took a few quick snaps, although this time I did go inside to chat to the owners. They are really proud about the history of their shop. I said I was embarrassed that although I had known about the shop for decades, since I worked round the corner in the late 1980s, yet I hade never stepped inside until now. 

Well, it turns out there's more old signage in there, plus glass jars and some of the orignal fittings in the form of wooden drawers and shelving. The exterior gilded sign is another one made by Brilliant Signs (see under 1814), a company name that appears on many of the best signs of this era*. 

There are, of course, many other lovely old chemist shops across London, but the three that immediately spring to mind are these – Walden, 65 Elizabeth Street, Belgravia, Allchin, 28 Englands Lane (but, since 2014, the lovely gilded script has been covered by dullness) and K.King at 35 Amwell Street, Islington:

Finally, a couple of ghostsigns featuring chemist's shops. There are many I could include here, but I suspect the two that people will recognise the most are these two – Boots facing Camden Town tube station and Dean's on Clapham Pavement on the north side of the common.

*I have built up quite a collection of signs made by this company and I really ought to pull together a blog post to showcase them.

Remembering Andreas Michli & Son

I was out and about wandering* along and through the back streets of Harringay/Haringey recently. After delivering a framed print to an address in the Hornsey Vale area (which, incidentally, offers amazing views of Ally Pally) I was intending to head straight back home to Holloway but on venturing slightly off-piste I rediscovered the lovely old library near the junction of Quernmore Rd which beckoned me inside and, after half an hour of book browsing, I then got distracted and delighted by the shops that form the old station parade there and, oh gawd, here we go again... I was out for hours. I'm not complaining though. 

Emerging into Wightman Road, I first investigated some of the streets that form the lower rungs of 'the ladder' including the parallel worlds of the New River and the Harringay Passage, a footpath that links Turnpike Lane to Umfreville Rd but stops short of the railway land, today converted into a marvellous bug-tastic and diverse eco-park. 

I wandered up and down Green Lane's Grand Parade looking at the adapted facades on the buildings (ooh, I feel a montage coming on soon) and after a yummy lunch in a Turkish restaurant I made my way into the streets on the eastern side of the road, with the idea to follow the railway line as best as as possible, eastward to South Tottenham station. I found some more little green spaces abutting the line and made my way into and around the old St Ann's Hospital site, coming out almost opposite the recreation ground and Black Boy Lane renamed La Rose Lane earlier this year.

I then recalled that I had recently noticed from the top of a passing bus that the grocery shop at the corner of St Ann's Road (where it meets Salisbury Rd a sharp point) hadn't yet re-opened. I had assumed it had closed due to coronavirus but that did seem odd. And, even if that was the case, why would it still be closed now? So I instead of heading towards Seven Sisters I made my way back towards Green Lanes to investigate.

I had often thought that if I lived in the vicinity I would definitely frequent Michli's with its marvellous selection of fruit and veg and so much more – see this retrospective streetview for how the shop looked twelve years ago. But I've missed out. Because now it's closed for ever. It's empty. And there's a very sad reason for this. 

A type-written sheet on the glass door near the corner tells the story. It seems the shop has been closed for over four and a half years now. Andreas passed away in August 2018.

I peered inside and saw the remains of a once-thriving business. Wood-panelled walls, a delivery tricycle, empty shelves, pots and pans and pictures, racks and rubbish and, bizarrely/ironically, one of those Oriental perpetually waving cats, still waving. Other windows contain healthy houseplants. 

I can't really do this justice being as I never went inside and I never met the evidently much-missed Andreas Michli. But I've read some marvellous reviews of the shop like this one from 2011 explaining Andreas's ethics and how he was proactive in offering locally-grown produce. After his death many heartfelt remembrances have been posted online – I particularly like this one by Shilpah Shah. 

So what's going to happen to the shop? There is an estate agent's board on the building that seems to intimate that the property is already let. However, they have an active listing here (approx £4K a month available for a 15 year lease) which also includes some excellent photos of the interior spaces. 

I really hope whoever takes on the site respects it and doesn't lose all the layers of architectural history here. I'd be more than saddened to see this all replaced wit UPVC. And I am sure Andreas would be saddened too. Fingers crossed. 

How sad on so many levels. My best to the Michli family.

*wandering. I do a lot of wandering. I set out to go somewhere and, once I have been to the shop or delivered the package, I get easily distracted by backstreets, old signage, intriguing alleyways etc. I follow my nose wherever it takes me until my feet ache or my belly gurgles. I will write about being a Nosey Parker soon.

William Leonard Jordan's department store and Alfie's Antiques

Last Thursday I had an idea to go and see the Julian Opie show at The Lisson Gallery. I peeked in through the window and decided to return later in the afternoon after I'd had a wander around the immediate area. There's lots to see around there. I wanted to check what was happening with the Paddington Green Police Station building. Specifically these clever interconnecting panels, and then I discovered this ToyTown/Deco-esque charging station on Edgware Road. I like it. It's pleasing. It's jolly. Next door there's an Aldi within a distinctly Art Deco pastiche, complete with vertical fins. Also good.

After admiring the brick-built council blocks and hints of manufacturing history I headed down Church Street and made my way to Alfie's Antiques Market where I took a few photos of the exterior and marvelled at the Art Deco inter-war shop fittings that are still visible.

There are Jazz Age patterns etched into the curved glass, sun-ray metal ventilation plates at low level, the old shop's name in lovely script within a terrazzo threshold, and some geometric motifs in the fabric of the building which were subsequently enhanced/elaborated and painted pastel paint shades. 

The Klimt-style ladies and Egyptian queens that can be seen on the building today are also later additions, tho the Byzantine-style cupola that used to be at the corner is today truncated. See the old pic to the right, which I found within a frame on the stairwell at the rear of the market, and compare it with how it looks now. 

I must admit that I haven't as yet delved into William Leonard Jordan's history as I have only so far looked at the 1939 directory to get an idea of what was here when the Art Deco era fittings were in place. But you can bet your big fat bottom that Mr Jordan started as a draper and then expanded left and right until he covered numbers 13–25 (seven shops) either side of Plympton Street. Ooh, Plympton Street, how lovely.

The 1939 directory, left, shows how each of the doors off Church Street, which are still in use today, led to different departments... outfitter, boot and shoe dealer, clothier, house furniture. No doubt there were plenty more things on offer than that. I know for sure that there was a major haberdashery department in there. Interesting that back then, No.11 was an antique furniture dealer.

Jordan's store continued trading here until the early 1970s. I say 'trading' but by then the area was not so nice and Jordan's was struggling to make ends meet. With huge debts, the company went bust. I expect the contents were sold off. There might be an auction advertised in the press of that time. It might have been split into separate shops or completely demolished had it not been for the keen eye of Bennie Gray who recognised its potential as a multi-use selling space. Antiques and bric-a-brac markets were springing up all over London at that time. Alfie's Antiques Market opened in 1976, hot on the heels of Camden Passage in Islington (1968) and later at Dingwall's Camden Lock (1974). 

Today here are over 70 dealers in there with more traders currently moving into the basement having been evicted from their Hampstead shops. I went inside and got pleasantly sidetracked. 

I especially like the central wooden stairwell area where you can still imagine the building as a sort of mini Liberty's, complete with wood block flooring on the landings. 

Floors and floors of tempting loveliness in there, but that's not a problem when my home isn't big enough to accommodate all the things I like. And, as I said to one dealers, if I bought a bigger home, I'd have no money to furnish it...! Oh, and there is a lovely café on the top floor. 

The whole building is a delight to explore. I should go there more often. I left with a late-60s framed print of a beautiful black Madonna and a 1970s square ceramic [ash]tray. 

And I forgot to return to the Lisson Gallery. Whoops. The show finished yesterday. Oh well. 

Loss of old tiled interior at 274 St Pauls Rd, Islington

Last year I wrote about some remnants of tiles and signage along a stretch of the eastern end of St Paul's Rd, Islington

One shop I talked about was No.274 where a business had just moved out and the interior was bare within lovely old white and green tiled walls showing its past history as a United Dairies shop. As seen on Google Streetview from August 2022. 

Well, walking past it this morning, I was disappointed to see it now looks like this:

The exterior looks welcoming, but to me, and anyone who knows what's been lost here, it is a big loss. The tiled walls are nowhere to be seen. I was in a hurry and didn't properly check to see if they have been simply covered or painted. But why do people do this? Especially when this is clearly a cafe/food outlet and they probably even have milky drinks on the menu. Tiles are easy to clean. 

Boo hoo.

I have been told when similar things have happened elsewhere that old tiles had to be covered for health and safety reasons. Really? I find that doubtful, seeing as there are still many places that have retained them such as pie and eel restaurants, old pubs, and shops which have listed interiors due to the tiles and fittings. 

This is how the shop looked in August 2022 c/o Google Streetview: 

There are more overpainted Premier/Unigate tiles at The Old Dairy, Stroud Green. I have written this up separately here. 

Old shops in St Pauls Road, Highbury and Islington

I am often to be seen walking from Holloway to Canonbury and back, and this means I use the stretch of St Paul's Rd between the two terraces of shops at the western end which still displays some hints of a bygone age or two. The shops on the right hand side adjacent to the Hen and Chickens pub are clearly older and I will return to them another day, but it's north/left side I'm going to talk about here. It starts with a single shop, No.306a, an large add-on to No.306 which is the first of six paired premises. The shops at street level have angled entrances each side of a door that leads to residential accommodation above. The door numbers are beautifully incised into the street-facing fabric of the building in a clear sans serif letterform at each side of the arches with a flower motif above them. 

First, let's look at No.296, today a barber/hairdresser. Above the shop door there two small signs in the glass advertising Ogden's St. Bruno, a tobacco product that is still available today:

In the 1930s this was a tobacconist shop managed by the wonderfully-named Samuel Brilliant. On the subject of names, at No.298 in the 1910s, there was a confectionery shop run by the perfectly-named Miss Eliza Sweetland. I wonder if she was led into this line of work by nominative determinism?!

Two doors along at No.290 is Sawyer & Gray. As far as I can make out this café and homewares shop (no wifi or laptops, hurrah!) took its name from a name that was uncovered about ten years ago. Indeed, today's S&G was established in 2012. But the Sawyer and Gray of 1939 was a confectionery shop (Miss Sweetland no longer in evidence). It's really nice to see old signage revitalised like this.  

And now to a location past just the bus stop and the cobbled access to the rear. At No.276 today you'll find Firezza Pizzeria. Thick layers of green paint are currently being removed to reveal shiny ultramarine blue tiles. And this suggests it was once a laundry:

A quick look at the old Kelly's directories confirms my hunch. This was indeed a Western's Laundry shop. This blue-tiled exterior being the usual style for Western's and for Sunlight Soap – see more here. Customers' sheets and shirts were collected by vans at the rear via that cobbled side access and then taken to the large facility in Drayton Park which I waffle about on YouTube here(!).  The 1915 directory tells me that this site was previously Isendure Laundry Ltd, an independendent local business that looks to have been subsumed into the Western's umbrella by the 1930s. 

I really hope if they manage to clean off all the green paint and retain the blue tiles, not just for their specific historic value but for logic's sake. I mean, what is the point of painting tiles?! Tiles are washed by rain, or easily wiped. 

Next door to the old laundry, at a site recently vacated by St Paul, there was a dairy/grocery store, no doubt also making good use of that cobbled side access. Throughout bygone centuries, Islington was well-renowned for the quality of its milk – that's a story you've probably heard me tell many times if you've been on my walking tours. 

In 1915 the dairy at No.274 was run by a woman called Mrs David Davies. At some time in the 1920s it had become part of United Dairies, a company famous for pioneering pasteurised milk. 

As you can see by my dodgy pics, taken through the window, the shop interior still retains much of its interwar United Dairies tiled walls -clean white wth geometric stripes in two tones of green.  The exterior still retains the panelled sections in the window glass, but the minty-green tiles and air vents at low level have been covered (or replaced?) by wooden panels. This view from 2008 shows those elements still in place when it was a chemist's shop. The archive pic above right shows a UD shop in New Eltham, dated 1933, and this gives us a sense of how this St Paul's Rd store would have originally appeared. How lovely.

Criminal loss of curved Art Deco windows at Balenciaga, New Bond Street

I am often to be heard talking about how surprising it is that many of the marvellously constructed and well-embellished buildings along Old/New Bond Street are not listed at least Grade II. This, I assumed/hoped was because the kind of companies who trade here are aware and proud of the beautiful buildings in which their products were being sold and they simply look after the heritage they inherit. Indeed, one only has to look at the excellent revamp by Victoria's Secret at the northern end of New Bond Street, where many of the modern shopfittings installed a decade ago were cleverly created with modern products to appear as if they have been there since the 1930s. The outside of that building is stunning, never mind that gorgeous glass staircase inside.  

But this post is about what I believe is criminal damage/wanton destruction at 24-25 New Bond St, on the corner of Conduit Street, where beautiful, possibly unique, curved windows at ground level that meandered in and out of the supporting columns as a wavy curtain of glass, shown above (Google Streetview screengrab) are no longer there.  

This building used to be home to C. J. Lytle Ltd, as shown by this marvellously evocative pic from 1948. More recently, until 2020, this was a branch of Russell & Bromley who made excellent use of the undulating glass as shown above. When R&B moved out, the street level windows were individually covered, as shown in my pic below from Feb2021. Phew, I thought, they'll be fine.

Then Balenciaga took over the building and installed bigger bright green hoardings around the curtilage (I love that word!) as shown here in June2021. I continued to naively assume that this was to protect the lovely windows, that they were simply performing a bit of TLC behind there. I mean, who would remove what surely must be some of the best curved glass in London? 

But last Easter weekend, whilst walking past, leading a guided tour, I stopped in my tracks, exclaimed, "No!" and then had to explain to the group why I was so shocked, even though this was not the subject of the walk on that day.

The gorgeous curves and undulations have been removed and replaced. The windows are now flat and rectangular and the columns have been boxed in. Balenciaga are so proud of their new boxy space that on their website here they call this 'a treat' – I call it a 'blandification' and I think Villanelle, that character in BBC's Killing Eve who has been pictured sporting Balenciaga's expensive boots, would call this renovation "BORE-RING!"

It's amazing that Balenciaga didn't go the whole hog and install chickenshop-style UPVC doors and windows as this is barely a step up from that. I am so upset. But you understood that paragraphs ago(!).

It occured to be that the gorgeous glass curves were very similar to other excellent shop fronts created and installed by Pollards such as here and I was hoping that when those greeen hoardings came down I might be able to fins one of Pollards patent marks embedded in the metal edges. But now that's not possible. And, to add insult to injury, I was convinced that I had taken some good close-up photos of those curved windows a while back when R&B was still trading and these I could include as slides for one of my online talks about Art Deco buildings, but now, frustrtaingly, I now cannot find them. Let's hope they show up and I simply didn't get around to naming the files.

It's a huge loss when cleverly-designed bespoke elements like this are renovated or removed completely. A similar example can be found at No.1 New Bond Street at the Ralph Lauren flagship store, a building that resembles a Byzantine-style palace which, in 1939, was home to The National Provincial Bank, F.W.Woolworths, CondeNast publishing, and offices of the aformentioned C.J.Lytle advertising before they moved to the Balenciaga site later that year. Today the Ralph Lauren store sports plate glass at street level but here's a link to how it used to look in 1955. I do not know when the ground floor windows were altered, although many buildings of this type suffered blandifications in the 1960s and 1970s in an attempt to remove what was then seen as fussy embellishements. A similar thing occured at the Louis Vuitton store, on the corner of Clifford Street but, on the plus side, LV must be commended for a revamp a few years ago when they altered the lower external façade to echo the designs within the upper floors, which is marvellous.

I can only hope that the curved glass windows have been repurposed elsewhere. If I find out more, I will add to this post.

On the tiles at George's Fish & Chips shop, 45 Tottenham Lane, N8

At the northern end of Tottenham Lane, on the right and just before the fork where the road meets Church Lane and leads down to the right and Hornsey railway station, there is a fish and chips shop, opposite the old police station buildng. 

The shop doesn't look like much at first glance, being as the exterior is modern plate glass, having lost almost all of its Victorian metalwork and embellishment over the past few decades. You need only to look around at some of the nearby shops to be able to get an idea of how attractive this junction would have been 120 years ago. 

If you venture into George's you'll find some fabulous examples of fin-de-siecle tiles along the lower sections of the walls on both sides, specifically in the small seating area at the left and behind the counter too, albeit mostly obscured by cabinets. But hey, they are there and that's great.

These tiles really show off the colourful patterns of the Art Nouveau 1890s area. The grassy greens, deep golden yellows and peacock blues are absolutely gorgeous. There is also a stained glass panel at the rear which I assume is of the same era, but I doubt it would have been situated exactly in that position when the shop interior was first created. As regards the 'since 1890' claim, I am not sure what is intimated here. The 1901 directory shows this shop as No.9 Rathcoole Parade and the premises of James Brunton, fishmonger. Perhaps George is a descendant of James? Or they simply mean a chippy has been on this site since 1890.

I popped in to check up on the place earlier this month but, though the door was wide open and the place clearly open for business, there was no one about to talk to – I called out 'hello' but got no response and, in a rush to be elsewhere, I simply snapped these pics and sped off. Last time I popped in, ooh about 3 years ago, I'd had a nice chat a man who worked there. He was really proud of the tiles and loved that the history of the place is appreciated by many people who come into admire the original features (and eat the lovely chips!). I didn't ask if his name was George.

Nearby, there are other places that still hang on to their mad patchworks of Victorian glazed tiles. I mean 'mad' in a good way. Personally, I'd never consider putting some of these patterns together except in a catalogue. But the effect is dazzlingly good, such as a few doors along, at 59 Tottenham Lane, on the corner of Harvey Road where there are some lovely vertical panels of mixed tiles that are strangely at odds, yet enhanced and contrasted by, the faded ultramarine paint of Garden Transformations. The 1901 directory tells me this was Lucas & Co, house furnishers. You can also find lovely mixed tile collections surrounding the front doors of many residential properties in the area, as well as some excellent examples of old shop fronts in Hornsey High Street, but I will save those for a separate bulletin.

UPDATE 2023:

Although the premises is still trading in fish and chips, the lovely colourful Art Nouveau tiles by the seating area along the left side wall have been obliterated or removed. The guy I spoke to in there this time (not the same fella as before) said this had been done for Health and Safety reasons. Hmm. Really?!  I dispute that reason being as the tiles behind the counter in the food preparation area are still visible. Sigh.  

Holloway memories – shopping in the 1990s

In January 1988 I moved from Romford/HaroldWood into a flat in Marlborough Rd, N19, keen to be living in area that ticked all my boxes – easy transport connections for work and socialising, lots of local shops and within a £5 cab ride home from Central London (really!).
Sometimes I'd do my food shopping up at Archway as I exited the tube but mostly I'd take the bus to  the Nags Head area as the options were better. I have always said "if you can't find it in Holloway, then you don't need it". So often have I trawled the West End shops only to find a better, cheaper product just around the corner in N7. This same idea popped into my head recently and it got me thinking about all the shops I used to use in the 1990s that are now gone.

Gibbers greengrocer – next door to The Eaglet pub at 116-120 Seven Sisters Rd (at the time of writing = a Post Office and Mr Panini's** cafe).
Gibbers was a proper old-style fruit and veg greengrocers with boxes of produce all over the show. You queued to be served with a pound of this, two pounds of that, eight of those and six of them. It was a delight. Wholesale deliveries large and small coming and going constantly. John the manager was such a lovely man. I recall one Saturday when he asked where I'd been recently and I told him I had hurt my back and then as one of the others was serving me John nipped into the chemist next door and bought me some pain relief tablets that he said had worked for him. How nice.
Gibbers suffered tremendously when the parking restrictions came into force meaning companies couldn't even park outside their own premises. I had many chats with John about this as it was really affecting trade. What happened to John? I am not sure he was a Holloway local. Tho I did find this written by someone who used to work there.
The Gibbers site became an EDA food centre – see here

Green's home furnishings – a few doors up from Gibbers covering three, possibly four shops. Green's walk-through windows contained blinds, curtains, cushions and all sorts for the home. I bought lots of bits from there in the late '80s and early '90s when I was setting up home.

Shelley's shoes – 89 Seven Sisters Rd, opposite Gibbers. 
I loved Shelly's shoes. The company had been going since the 1940s and was the go-to shop for big fashion trends such as crepe soles, winkle-pickers, Chelsea boots, platforms and DMs. They always had a really good alternative selection and really well-made. They had a few shops across London including Carnaby Street, Deptford, Chelsea and Kilburn High Rd with larger stores at Oxford Circus and Neal Street.

I still have a carrier bag!

As regards the Holloway shop, I remember being so pleased that I had a local branch. I recall the marvellous Victorian walk-in windows full of their fabulous footwear. But I now cannot place when the shop closed. Today, all the shops along that stretch are flat-fronted UPVC blandness and I am now annoyed with myself that I never thought back then to take a photo. Tho I wasn't running around snapping the details on our streets until well into 2006.
A bit of sleuthing shows me that Shelly's 'died' in 2003. I can find no ref of the Holloway shop online. But I do have a couple of Shelley's carrier bags. The bag shown here shows the shop's address with an 071 telephone code. I also have another duffle-bag one with 0171/0181 codes on it but the Holloway shop is not listed. Hence this branch must've closed pre-1999.

Safeway's – opposite Gibber's and Green's at the eastern corner of what was once a huge Victorian store created by Fred Crisp* who had become so successful that he had manged to purchase not only all the shops in that terrace but also houses in Devonshire Rd (now Axminster Rd) and Sussex Rd (now Sussex Way). This later became The North London Drapery Store and then B.B.Evans before being split again into the various units we see today.

67-83 Seven Sisters Rd, 2005

I have memories of carrying heavy bags shopping from Safeway up to Marlborough Rd past the house I live in today. Argos was also in this stretch before they moved to the site on Holloway Rd which back in 1988 was Sainsbury's (or was it KwikSave by then?). 

Holloway Arcade – junction of Holloway Road and Parkhurst Avenue on the site of the old Parkhurst Theatre. Today it's CarpetRight. This had seen better days by the time I got here. Most of the units within were already boarded up and only a few businesses remained. One, I think was a shoe mender or similar(?).

Manolis' Cafe, Hercules Street – the best breakfasts in Holloway, if not North London. 
The absolute best bubble and squeak ever. It was my go-to cafe. I'd take all my visiting friends there. I always enjoyed listening in on Manolis and his Greek friends as they philosophised and assessed world politics.

Manolis' goodbye

By September 2006 the cafe had closed. A typed letter was attached to the boarded up windows. It was so sad. He'd been feeding me for 15 years.
I hope he kept the huge marvellous potted money trees that used to be in the windows. For a short time Manolis worked at a cafe near Finsbury Park station but soon after due to ill health he retired to this home in Southgate. I bumped into him a few times. We kept in touch for a while. I went to have dinner with him and his wife at a restaurant in Southgate one evening in 2008. I should have kept in touch.

Next, Clarks, Ravel – all in the stretch of Holloway between Nags Head pub and M&S (now also closed down, and relocated to new premises behind Archway station). Woolworths were also here in Holloway (an L-shape shop at the site of Iceland with another entrance opposite the Halifax) but I am not sure I recall the shop personally. They had other branches at Angel and Archway so possibly this one had already closed by 1988...?

Selby's – in 1988 it was dreadful and really out of date. Certainly not keeping up with the times. Or even attempting to rival nearby Jones Bros. I remember wondering how they were even managing to stay open. It was a complete mish-mash and looked to be on the brink of closure. But when Jones Bros closed two years later Selby's pulled up their socks and now I think the store rivals John Lewis.

I think that'll do for now... I'll save the rest for another day

*I am compiling a history of Mr Crisp and his store – all additional info welcome.
**A sign within the window reads "Panini's" - ah but Panini is already plural. The inclusion of an apostrophe intimates that either a letter is missing or ownership – the place must therefore be owned by someone called Panini, tho I have yet to meet him. (Paninis with an s added would make it doubly plural and that would be daft)

Charles Baker, optical and surgical instrument maker, 244 High Holborn

Earlier this week, whilst hunting for something else in amongst my suitcases of collected bric-a-brac, I rediscovered my small collection of opera and field glasses.
Oh what a distraction!
Beautiful little pocket-sized binoculars made of brass (and other metals) and/or bakelite, many with mother-of-pearl, leather or shagreen embellishment. And most of them still in their perfect little pigskin pouches. OK, that was just for alliteration – I mean carrying/protective cases.
Someone recently suggested to me that they were not worth much, that they had no value, and asked me if I used glasses at the opera these days. A bit of a daft question as I rarely go to the opera! And also daft because one could say that Chinese tea caddies and Victorian children's dresses are also not used these days but that doesn't mean they aren't worth anything. I believe what he meant was that these are just collectables; they aren't top dollar items. Certainly not worth insuring.

Nevertheless I thought I'd do a bit of research on them and the pair that I found to be the most intriguing, for me as a Londoner, is the pair that when the centre wheel is at full twist, letters can be seen inscribed into on the shafts that read; "Sold By C. BAKER, Optician" on the left side, and "244 High Holborn, London" on the right.

Silver metal with hinged centre and mother-of-pearl inlay on the handles 

I at first wondered if this Chas Baker was the same person/company as the gentlemen's outfitter a further along High Holborn. After all, an optician simply sells eyewear, such as frames and other accessories; the optometry being carried out elsewhere. Therefore, I considered that the optician's shop might well be a branch of that large company. But it appears not.

Kelly's – just up the road

Intrigued by many of these things, I got got to googling. 

It seems Charles Baker was listed as a company as early as 1765 and by 1854 they had moved from premises at 51 Gt Queen Street, to 244 High Holborn, listed as an "optical and surgical instrument maker".  Interesting that the engraving reads "Sold by" rather than 'Made by". Hmmmm. Ponder, ponder.
My Kelly's Directory of 1895 shows that Mr Baker was at No.243 with his instruments and also at No.244 as an optician. By 1915 there are five companies listed at No.244 address including another optician.
The 1939 directory shows that 242-243 has become The Holborn Empire music hall with Baker at No.244 listed as a scientific instrument maker, sharing the premises with Ascot Gas Water Heaters. 

At this time, ads show that Baker is making full use of the theatre next door as a signpost. I like to think he would have had a display of opera glasses in his shop window ready to catch the eye of passing theatre-goers who had left theirs at home.
Moving forward quickly... in 1963 the Vickers company acquired C.Baker Ltd's microscope factory which later became Vickers Instruments. 
It's all here on Grace's Guide if you want to read it for yourself.

Of my other binoculars, the ones that also interest me are my two compact late-20s/early-30s Bakelite pairs made by A. Kershaw & Son of Leeds. I am particularly fond of the ones made in bright colours such as teal, emerald green or ultramarine. In 1920 the Kershaw company had various premises across the UK including offices/shop at 3 Soho Square. They had previously claimed to produce "the World's first cinematograph projector". By 1964 the company was swallowed up to the Rank Organisation.
And I also have some diddy little opera glasses made by Colmont of Paris; a company that I am told was one of the best French companies of this type back in the day. Ooh. 

More research needed.

In the meantime, I am hoping to be able to get a group together to visit the marvellous British Optical Association Museum in Craven Street, Charing Cross, where they may have more info about Charles Baker.

Gardners in Spitalfields on a sunny Saturday

149 Commercial Street

This shop, just along from Spitalfields Market, always brings a smile to my face. And especially so on such a gloriously sunny day. It's a joy to know this family business is still trading after all these years – 148 years to be precise.
But where to place the apostrophe in the name? Is there one at all?
In the pic you can see they've placed it before the S as in the shop or business of Mr Gardner.
But having just checked their website I am now confused – on the home page it's visible as Gardners (plural, no possession) and, within the central graphic on there, it's depicted as Gardners' (plural possessive).