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 have headed slightly north of Cavendish Mews to London’s busy shopping precinct along Oxford Street, where ladies flock to window shop, browse department stores and shops and to take tea with their friends. With the Christmas rush of 1921 behind them, the large plate glass windows have been stripped of their tinsel garlands and metallic cardboard stars, and displays are turning to the new fashions and must have possessions of 1922. Oxford Street is still busy with shoppers as Lettice walks up it dressed in a smart navy blue coat of velvet with a lustrous mink fur trim and matching hat, and the road congested with London’s signature red buses, taxis and private traffic. Yet neither the road nor the footpath are as crowded as they were when she found Edith, her maid’s, Christmas gift in Boots the Chemist, and for that she is grateful. Her louis heels click along the concrete footpath as she takes purposeful and measured footsteps towards her destination, the salon of her milliner Madame Gwendolyn which is situated above all the hubbub of shoppers and London office workers on the first floor of a tall and ornate Victorian building.
Lettice breathes a sigh of relief as she walks through the wood and plate glass door of the salon, simply marked with the name Gwendolyn in elegant gilt copperplate lettering, leaving behind the chug of belching double deckers, the toot of horns, the rumble of motorcar engines and the droning buzz of female chatter. The faint fragrance of a mixture of expensive scents from Madame Gewndolyn’s other clientele envelops her, dismissing the soot and fumes of the world outside as the quiet sinks in. Lettice always feels calmer in Madame’s salon, tastefully decked out in an Edwardian version of Regency with finely striped papers and upholstery.
“Good afternoon Miss Chetwynd,” the female receptionist greets Lettice politely in well enunciated tones, rising from her desk, showing off her smart outfit of a crisp white shirtwaister* with goffered lace detailing and a navy skirt. “Your timing, as ever, is perfect.” She smiles as she walks over and without asking, takes the coat from Lettice’s shirking shoulders.
“Thank you Roslyn,” Lettice acknowledges her assistance. As she goes to take Lettice’s white lace parasol, Lettice stops the young receptionist. “No thank you. I need this for my consultation.”
If taken aback by Lettice’s unusual refusal to relinquish her parasol, Roslyn doesn’t show it as she simply smiles politely and says, “Madame is expecting you. Please do come through.”
The two women walk across the polished floor of the foyer covered in expensive rugs that their feet sink into, until they stop before an inner set of double doors. Roslyn’s polite rap is greeted by a commanding “come” from the other side.
“Miss Chetwynd, Madame,” Roslyn announces as she opens the door inwards, leading Lettice into a salon, similarly furbished as the foyer which is filled with an array of beautiful hats elegantly on display.
“Ah, Miss Chetwynd,” Madame Gwendolyn says in the same clearly enunciated syllables as her receptionist, with a broad smile on her lips. “How do you do.”
“How do you do, Madame.” she replies as Roslyn retreats the way she came, closing the doors silently behind her.
Madame Gwendolyn smile broadens as she notices Lettice’s blue velvet toque with the mink trim which she made to match the coat now hanging in the wardrobe behind Roslyn’s desk in the foyer. Then it fades as her eye falls upon Lettice’s parasol in her client’s left hand. “Oh Miss Chetwynd, I’m so sorry Roslyn didn’t,” and she reaches out to take it from her hand.
“Oh no! No Madame,” Lettice assures the middle-aged milliner. “Roslyn went to take it from me, but I said no. We will need it for our appointment you see.”
“Oh,” Madame Gwendolyn’s expertly plucked and shaped brow arches ever so slightly. “Very well. Won’t you please take a seat, Miss Chetwynd.” She indicates to two Edwardian Arts and Crafts chairs carefully reupholstered in cream Regency stripe fabric to match the wallpaper hanging in the salon.
Lettice selects the one to her right and hangs the parasol over its arm before gracefully lowering herself into the seat and placing her snakeskin handbag at her side. As she does so, Roslyn slips back into the room bearing a tray on which sits tea making implements for one, which she carefully places on the small table next to a few recent fashion magazines, easily in Lettice’s range.
Once Roslyn obsequiously retreats again, Madame Gwendolyn says, “Now, I believe you may have come about a new hat for The Princess Royal’s wedding*. Is that so, Miss Chetwynd?”
“You are well informed, Madame.” Lettice replies, glancing down at her knee as she speaks.
Madame Gwendolyn smiles again, taking up a leatherbound notebook. “How delightful for you to be in attendance.”
“Well, we are well acquainted, Madame,” Lettice answers dismissively.
“Of course! Of course.” the older woman replies, her back stiffening as she raises her pale and elegant hands in defence. “Now, might I enquire as to who will be making your frock for the occasion?”
“Yes. Mr. Gerald Bruton of Grosvenor Street.”
“Ah. Excellent! Excellent.” Madame replies like a toady as she jots Gerald’s name in her book. “And the fabrics, Miss Chetwynd?”
“Oyster satin with pearl buttons and a guipure lace** Peter Pan collar***.”
“Excellent! Excellent!” Madame Gwendolyn repeats again, noting the details down. “White gloves, or grey?”
“Grey.”
The woman closes her notebook firmly, leaving it in her lap. “Well, I’m quite sure we can make something most suitable for the royal occasion to match your ensemble.”
The milliner rises and puts her notebook aside. Whilst she looks about her salon for possibilities, Lettice pours herself tea from the delicate hydrangea patterned pot on the table.
“Now, I could easily create something similar to this, in a soft grey, Miss Chetwynd.” Madame Gwendolyn returns with a beautiful picture hat of pale pink covered in a carefully crafted whorl of ostrich feathers.
“Hhhmmm…” Lettice considers.
“Or, this could easily be adapted to match your outfit, Miss Chetwynd,” she indicates to a more cloche shaped hat of white and black dyed straw with black ribboning. “By replacing the ribbon with a grey one. I also have some delightful pearl appliques that would add a beautiful touch of royal elegance to it.”
“Perhaps,” Lettice replies noncommittally with her head slightly cocked.
As she watches Madame Gwendolyn scurry across the salon and fetch a peach coloured wide brimmed hat with a band of silk flowers about the brim with an aigrette of cream lace, her thoughts drift back to the day the previous June when she and her dear Embassy Club coterie friend Margot were walking down Oxford Street, not too far from where she sits now. They had been discussing the Islington Studios**** moving picture starlet Wanetta Ward, whom Lettice had agreed to take on as a new customer, as well as Margot’s wedding plans. Ascot Week***** was fast approaching and Selfridges had a window display featuring four rather stylish hats, every bit as comparable in quality to those being shown to her by the toadying milliner before her at a fraction of the cost. Margot had laughed at Lettice when she had suggested that perhaps she should have worn a Selfridges hat to Royal Ascot, rather than the creation Madame Gwendolyn made her. Yet her hat from Madame Gwendolyn at twelve guineas was far from a roaring success in the fashion stakes. In fact, she had heard a fashion correspondent from the Tattler whispering a little too loudly that it might even have been a little old fashioned: a touch pre-war.
“Miss Chetwynd? Miss Chetwynd?” Madame Gwendolyn’s somewhat urgent calls press into her consciousness, breaking Lettice’s train of thought.
Lettice looks up into the face of the milliner with her upswept hairdo a mixture of pre-war Edwardian style mixed with modern Marcelling******. The woman is holding up a cream straw cloche decorated with pink silk flowers and an aigrette of ostrich plumes curled in on themselves.
“I think this one is most becoming. Don’t you think so, Miss Chetwynd? It would frame your face and hair so well. And, for you, because it is only the reworking of the decoration,” the older woman adds with a sly smile. “A bargain if I may say so, at only nine guineas.” She smiles in an oily way as she presses the hat closer to Lettice. “What do you think, Miss Chetwynd?”
Lettice looks blankly at Madame Gwendolyn for a moment before replying. “What I think, Madame, is I should like to give your suggestions some consideration.”
The milliner’s face drops, as do her arms as she lowers the hat until it hangs loosely in front of her knees in her defeated hands. “I… I don’t understand, Miss Chetwynd.” she manages to say in startled disbelief.
“Oh,” Lettice replies. “Haven’t I made myself clear, Madame? I’m not entirely convinced about any of the hats you have shown me. I don’t know if any of them will match my costume and parasol. I think they all look a little…”
“A little?” the older woman prompts.
“A little old fashioned. A little pre-war was how your hat for me for Royal Ascot last year was described. I want to look my very best. After all, this is a royal wedding.” She takes a final sip of her tea and then stands, picking up her purse and parasol. “So, I should like to consider my choices before deciding whether to accept one or not.”
As Lettice starts to walk across the salon floor, Madame Gwendolyn stutters, “Per… perhaps Miss Chetwynd… Perhaps you’d care to suggest your own ideas. I’m very open to a client’s ide…”
Lettice stops and turns abruptly to the milliner, cutting her sentence off. “Madame,” she says, a definite haughtiness growing in her gait, causing her shoulders to edge back almost imperceptibly and for her neck to arch. “If I had wanted to design my own hat, I would have made it myself, rather than come to you and pay you handsomely for it.”
“Oh, of course not Miss Chetwynd. How very careless of me to even suggest…. Such… such a gaffe! Please forgive me.”
“Really Madame, there is no need to apologise like some spineless, obsequious servant. I’d simply like time to consider what you’ve shown me, versus say, what Harry Selfridge has to offer.”
“Mr. Selfridge?” Madame Gwendolyn ponders, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Yes. He has a wonderful array of hats, many Paris models in the latest styles, in his millinery department, perhaps more suited to the more modern woman of today than the,” Lettice glances back at the hats on display in the salon. “The society matron. You really should take a look, Madame. You might see where the future of hats sits.”
Lettice pulls open the doors of the salon and walks purposefully out into the foyer, where Roslyn is busily scanning a copy of Elite Styles, cutting out images of hats with a pair of scissors behind her desk. She quickly gets up when she sees Lettice and her employer come out.
“Leaving so soon, Miss Chetwynd?” she asks, and without having to wait for an answer, turns to the white painted built in wardrobe behind her, opens it and withdraws Lettice’s coat.
As Lettice steps back into Oxford Street and is enveloped by its discordant cacophony of noise and potpourri of smells, she sighs and walks back the way she came with the measured steps of a viscount’s daughter. As she reaches the full length plate glass windows of Selfridge’s department store, she pauses when she sees two young women around her age, both obviously typists, secretaries or some other kind of office workers, scuttle up to the windows. Dressed in smart black coats and matching small brimmed straw hats with Marcelled hair in fashionable bobs, they look the epitome of the new and independent woman. They laugh lightly and point excitedly at things they see displayed in the department store window. Then, they agree and both scurry away and through the revolving doors of Selfridges.
“Why should I have my hats made at Madame Gwendolyn’s, just because Mamma does?” she asks no-one in particular, her quiet utterance smothered and swept away into the noisy hubbub around her.
She walks to the window, only to discover that it is full of hats, advertised as newly in from Paris.
“Oh, why not, then?” Lettice says, straightening her shoulders with conviction.
She follows the two office girls and steps through the revolving doors of Selfridges department store.
Contrary to popular belief, fashion at the beginning of the Roaring 20s did not feature the iconic cloche hat as a commonly worn head covering. Although invented by French milliner Caroline Reboux in 1908, the cloche hat did not start to gain popularity until 1922, so in early 1922 when this story is set, picture hats, a hangover from the pre-war years, were still de rigueur in fashionable society. Although nowhere near as wide, heavy, voluminous or as ornate as the hats worn by women between the turn of the Twentieth Century and the Great War, the picture hats of the 1920s were still wide brimmed, although they were generally made of straw or some lightweight fabric and were decorated with a more restrained touch. For somewhere as socially important as Princess Mary’s 1922 wedding, a matching hat, parasol, handbag or reticule and gloves to go with a lady’s chosen frock were essential.
*Mary, Princess Royal and Countess of Harewood (1897 – 1965), was the only daughter of King George V and Queen Mary. She was the sister of Kings Edward VIII and George VI, and aunt of Queen Elizabeth II. She married Viscount Lascelles on the 28th of February 1922 in a ceremony held at Westminster Abbey. The bride was only 24 years old, whilst the groom was 39. There is much conjecture that the marriage was an unhappy one, but their children dispute this and say it was a very happy marriage based upon mutual respect. The wedding was filmed by Pathé News and was the first royal wedding to be featured in fashion magazines, including Vogue.
**Guipure lace is a delicate fabric made by twisting and braiding the threads to craft incredible designs that wows the eye. Guipure lace fabrics distinguish themselves from other types of lace by connecting the designs using bars or subtle plaits instead of setting them on a net.
***A Peter Pan collar is a style of clothing collar, flat in design with rounded corners. It is named after the collar of Maude Adams’s costume in her 1905 role as Peter Pan, although similar styles had been worn before this date. Peter Pan collars were particularly fashionable during the 1920s and 1930s.
****Islington Studios, often known as Gainsborough Studios, were a British film studio located on the south bank of the Regent’s Canal, in Poole Street, Hoxton in Shoreditch, London which began operation in 1919. By 1920 they had a two stage studio. It is here that Alfred Hitchcock made his entrée into films.
*****Royal Ascot Week is the major social calendar event held in June every year at Ascot Racecourse in Berkshire. It was founded in 1711 by Queen Anne and is attended every year by the reigning British monarch and members of the Royal Family. The event is grand and showy, with men in grey morning dress and silk toppers and ladies in their best summer frocks and most elaborate hats.
******Marcelling is a hair styling technique in which hot curling tongs are used to induce a curl into the hair. Its appearance was similar to that of a finger wave but it is created using a different method. Marcelled hair was a popular style for women’s hair in the 1920s, often in conjunction with a bob cut. For those women who had longer hair, it was common to tie the hair at the nape of the neck and pin it above the ear with a stylish hair pin or flower. One famous wearer was American entertainer, Josephine Baker.
This enclave of luxurious millinary may appear real to you, however it is fashioned entirely of 1:12 miniatures from my collection. Some of the items in this tableau are amongst the very first pieces I ever received as a young child.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The cream straw hat second from the left with pink roses has single stands of ostrich feathers adorning it that have been hand curled. The yellow straw hat on the far right of the photo is decorated with ornamental flowers and organza. The maker for these is unknown, but they are part of a larger collection I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel. The peach coloured hat with the flowers around the brim and the net aigrette second from the right, and the pink feather covered hat on the far left of the picture came from a seller on E-Bay. The black straw hat with the yellow trim and rose reflected in the mirror and the white straw hait with the black trim in the foreground were made by Mrs. Denton of Muffin Lodge in the United Kingdom. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable.
The wooden hat blocks on which the hats are displayed also came from American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The dressing table set, consisting of tray, mirror and two brushes were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, but were hand painted with wonderful detail by British miniature artisan Victoria Fasken, sold through Kathleen Knight’s Dollhouse Shop in England.
Lettice’s snakeskin handbag with its gold clasp and chain comes from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniature Shop in the United Kingdom. Lettice’s umbrella is a 1:12 artisan piece made of white satin and lace with a tiny cream bow. It has a hooked metal handle.
The Elite Styles magazine from 1922 sitting on the table was made by hand by Petite Gite Miniatures in the United States.
The blue hydrangea tea set came from a miniatures stockist on E-Bay.
The two Edwardian fashion plates hanging on the wall come from Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers in England.
The vintage mirror with its hand carved wooden frame was acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dollhouse Shop in England.
The two chairs, the tea table and the stands upon which two of the hats are displayed are all made by the high-end miniature furniture manufacturer, Bespaq.
The Regency sideboard I have had since I was around six or seven, having been given it as either a birthday or Christmas gift.
The cream Georgian pattern carpet on the floor comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in England. The Regency stripe wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, with the purpose that it be used in the “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.
Posted by raaen99 on 2022-02-13 05:36:23
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