The Lure of Bond Street……London Letter 4

It was more than a body could endure, every morning driving down Piccadilly and flashing past a locked-down Bond Street. Piers and I could justify the importance of our business meetings, but nothing could justify four weeks of shopping deprivation in the fashion capital of the world……and so near to Christmas. My wardrobe back home in Sydney was stale with covid cobwebs and my body had betrayed me over the last six months by adding a few unwanted kilos; it couldn’t be due to the little gin station I had so enjoyed establishing over the preceding months.

No, London had gone to sleep except for a few cabs and empty but hopeful red London buses.

Every weekday Kevin and Piers and I would drive along Piccadilly to the Mall, round Trafalgar Square and the great but closed National Gallery, down Fleet Street, round Aldwych and the Air Force church, past our lovely Australian High Commission and its brave showing of flags, gaze at the remnants of the London Wall and enter the world of the City, now one of the loneliest places to be found in this great Metropolis.

No, I decided, the deprivation of a fashion fix must be surmounted by some inventive on-line-style shopping. I called my designer friend in France, Pascal Millet, and told him of my needs. He was in the process of launching a new pared-down collection but his empathic response was immediate and he set about sketching summer dresses and selections of delicious silks and crepes. These arrived forthwith and I had a lovely time consulting with Piers and finally choosing every one of the nine designs. The next task was to find my tape measure and fill out Pascal’s list. This sad task was made easier by my clever Piers being able to write straight onto the screen and email the results to Pascal. We tried to have the dresses arrive before I left London, but as our trip was shortened by two weeks, I am now awaiting the parcel and, probably, a hefty customs bill, but what a treasure trove it will be.

The other on-line-style effort was enabled by another long-held relationship with my Saville Row tailors, Nortons. Late 2019 in London, again on the same business, I had chosen fabrics for three winter jackets to be made for fitting and finishing next trip. Well, we know what happened in 2020. However, the first jacket was cut and ready for a fitting when I knew I would arrive one year later!

Now, I know you all, my dear friends are becoming impatient for what happened next when finally, true to form, I took matters into my own hands and surmounted this curse of a shopping embargo.

Lockdown lifted and shops reopened, but Piers and I were now cutting short our trip and flying home to Sydney two weeks early. It was possible to finish the rest of our business by Zoom, albeit waking 2am every morning for meetings. Luckily or unluckily, I had caught a virus, no not covid, I could still taste my dinner and was regular with zinc and the “mosquito tablet”, but enough to give me a nasty cough and the beginnings of serious asthma. Piers would continue attending meetings but I would not risk the health of the rest of the team and instead stay home in the warmth of the flat. A small improvement in my coughing lent weight to the decision I could shop for two half days with the help of Kevin staying close at hand.

I had a plan to eschew crowds and stick to just a few boutiques plus my tailor.

These two half days, Tuesday, Bond Street, and Wednesday, Sloane Street, stand clear in my memory as joyful adventures into a Christmas wonderland. Bond Street was almost deserted unlike its first open Saturday when shopkeepers said the streets were almost impassable for crowds.

First stop, Bottega Veneta, was not planned but glancing at a lone pair of biscuit-coloured summer sandals in the window drew me inside. Two hours later, I had fulfilled the expectations of young Anastasia that Christmas had indeed arrived in the form of a warm cape-clad masked figure with an Aussie accent and an infallible American Express card. That American Express had missed me and was in expectation of some action in London need to be only taken as read. Leaving behind big emerald green bags for later collection by my ‘driver’, I next approached Prada but was disappointed in a dark selection of shoes and quickly left, when my eye was caught by another window across the road, Herno. I was longing to buy one of those ‘puffer jackets’, long-worn by the young but never found and sorely needed for cold winters in Robertson; and there it was, shining through silvery Christmas decorations drawing me in. The young man serving was another Anastasia, wanting to please and going the extra distance to find the perfectly-fitting jacket for me. It is little exaggeration to say I am looking forward to winter wearing this elegant jacket with a grey fur collar embracing the cold in style!

On a small matter, but no less important , was, a toilet. My query in Prada had drawn the response, it was broken, which made me decide to never go in there again. My query in Herno was met with kindness and a charming clean loo up a flight of newly-painted steps.

Now darkness was arriving along with my 4.30pm appointment at Nortons, when I left Herno (and the package for later collection), stopped to buy tulips and hyacinths from my favourite florist cart and powered by their heavenly scent walked up the hill to Saville Row.

Again, the greeting was warm and welcoming from Gina and Martin and a fitting ensued. While we were discussing my early departure and plans for a Sydney delivery, I was idly flicking through a linen swatch pad when the iconic lightbulb went off in my head!

“Here I am in the centre of my fashion world so why not stick to what I love and know and forget endless designers and their bulky jackets and boring fabrics, and buy my summer suits here and now?”

Martin fell in with my plan and suggested the very light-weight Italian linens not the heavier Irish and showed me a gorgeous swatch selection. First I chose two linens then one more and finally four in total, and if I tell you they were all in one grouping like ‘maids in a row’ you will gain a small understanding of what happens when Ashley is in thrall to shopping business!

Calling Kevin, who was waiting outside the Ritz in Arlington Street, he drove over and picked me up and we headed down to Bond Street and the collection of my packages. After delivering me and packages home to Kensington Court, Kevin headed back into the City to wait for Piers.

Wednesday midday was Sloane Street shopping and a visit to my good friends at Georgio Armani, where I was picking up a blouse, but no changing or fittings as the energy levels were running low with little time left for this final excursion. That I had to choose Sloane Street over a visit to the National Gallery for a private walk-through of the great exhibition of Artemesia Gentileschi gives an indication of the limitation of ‘Ashley’s Choices.’

I could not contemplate returning home to two weeks quarantine with no Christmas presents for my dear ones. Armani men’s sunglasses gave a big boost to the Christmas list and Gucci and its beautiful bags another. While in Gucci I made a friend, Italian, who told me her mother-in-law in Hobart was a fan of my writing……..she teaches English at UTAS! I will be sending them both a copy of A Particular Woman.

Some of you will be shocked to hear I didn’t go near Chanel. There were a few reasons, one being time and strength and another the sheer cost of their bags and clothes.

Again, Kevin swung into action and you can see from the image he is happy playing his role in my shopping sprees. One last stop at Harrods where I went to the Christian Dior cosmetic counter near Door 6 . Again, energy levels could manage stocking up on cosmetic gifts but little else. Here I had another wonderful experience truly out of a Christmas fable. As the lipsticks, eyeshadows, powders and creams built up and the attractive Eastern European young woman hustled to and fro in a very efficient manner, not fazed by the ‘Ashley pace’, we bonded in a comfortable way, when suddenly she blurted out,

“I have had a terrible day today when a customer abused me loudly and long threatening to report me to the management which left me very shaken and distressed.”

(At this point dear reader, I tend to slip away mentally as tales of woe are going to slow my shopping and sap concentration and energy.)

“You have come along”, she continued, “and changed my whole day so completely I can leave such nastiness behind”.

It was then I knew the magic of Christmas was alive and well at the counter of Christian Dior and would follow Piers and me and strengthen us for the long journey ahead.