The £1 Dress

I love a bargain.
I also love a rummage.
I love creating things.
I love sewing.
I love the smile on the Princesses face.

So can you imagine the skip in my step when I delved into my local charity shop and came out with this little cotton top for the bargain sum of £1.

It was the fabric that drew me to it. I loved the bright blue and orange print and a little bit of me hoped that the top would fit me. [I can't ever bring myself to try clothes on in a charity shop. It is the smell you see].

It didn't. Too small. Must diet.

So instead I cut it up. Or partially deconstructed it like this.

Then I had to wing it.

I wanted to keep the yoke section and then have the dress attached from that leaving it sleeveless.
I took in the side seams of the dress and then gathered the top of the front and back of the body to fit the width of the yoke.
I then cut bias strips out of the excess fabric from the sleeves to finish the arm holes.
I attached the yoke front and back and then finished the edges of the yoke.

Not the neatest of jobs I have to admit but for a £1 slip-on dress I was chuffed.

And the Princess? Well she doned her model pose and declared that it was lovely!

Am I alone in wandering charity shops looking for things to cut up?
I'm going to start my own club.

Mary Portas Needs My Help, Possibly

I have watched Mary Portas with great interest.

When I watched her show, Mary Queen of Shops, I was impressed with her knowledge, her focus on customer service, her ability to identify the underlying problems of the business and her discipline in turning retail businesses around. I have watched her turn a dated, fusty charity shop concept into a destination store, bringing the ageing volunteers right along with her so they were flying the charity flag and completely engaged in the business. I have also watched her highlight and overcome the challenges of customer service in "Secret Shopper".

I suspect David Cameron watched these shows too and thought to himself, “She knows what she is doing. She'll know what to do about our ailing High Streets.” Well perhaps not David, but a trusted advisor who may or may not have been approached by Mary's people.

I feel very strongly about the issues facing independent retailers in our towns, and their plight to survive in an economic downturn. I want them to survive. I want to be able to shop in a varied and interesting environment where I am not just faced with the same old stuff that I might find in any town in the UK. I want customer service too. I am not saying that customer service does not exist outside the independents. Far from it, but I want it in an independent retailer that isn't facing closure.

I have worked in retail for many years, initially on the shop floor and then behind the scenes in head office, and have had responsibility for the commercial success of departments, so I fully appreciate the challenges that exist for retailers. Yet I found myself shouting at the TV on Tuesday, and the previous two Tuesdays, when Mary Queen of Frocks hit our screens. It was because I have great respect for Mary Portas that I stuck it out and watched all three episodes. That and the fact that an affordable fashion range for 40-something women is desperately missing from the High Street, so states a 40-something woman.

Why was I shouting at the TV?

If I did not have any retail background I would probably have enjoyed the shows, loving Mary for her severe cutting remarks, her inability to make eye contact when she is being sarcastically critical (most of the time), and her original fashion sense. But I do have a retail background and, if I am honest, I want to emulate her retail consultancy business in a much smaller way in my area. Consequently I was watching the show with a critical eye, wanting to take mental notes and pick up a few pointers that I could apply. All I could see however was a stream of inconsistencies and contradictions.

She constantly referred to the store as 'her shop'. Yes, it is her brand and concept, but the shop was House of Fraser, the stock belonged to House of Fraser, House of Fraser payed for the shop fit and staff and the supply chain was run by House of Fraser. So not actually your shop at all, Mary. If she had wanted her shop on every High Street as she proclaimed, then the House of Fraser route to market wasn't the ideal choice.

If it was 'her shop', her name in neon lights, her red bob hairstyled mannequins, and her name on every label, swing ticket and hanger, why was she so adamant that she was not the brand, and her face should not be in the advertising? I think, this was the point at which my cynical self knew this was a marketing exercise for Mary Portas who needed retail credibility in the public eye to be the Government's saviour of the High Street.

Then there was the whole charade about the location. So, again, she wants 'her shop' on every High Street appealing to the 40-something market yet Guildford isn't it? London, Paris, Milan and *ahem* Guildford. Not quite the kudos she wanted. Finally, last night she admitted she was a fashion and retail snob whilst standing in the House of Fraser store in *ahem* Guildford.

I could put these contradictions aside on the basis that they are great for TV. Who didn't have a silent chuckle when she looked down her nose at the Chief Executive and declared she Would Not be wearing a pink name badge. But I could not understand her ignorance when it came to some really quite basic retail principles. In the first show she was shocked at the turnover her shop would need to achieve to pay its way in the House of Fraser store. With her experience and knowledge of the retail industry she should know the sales needed for the square footage of her retail space to be profitable. On launch day sales were about £18,000. Not bad. But her annual turnover target is £3million, or about £8,500 per day. On a launch day, with huge media hype behind a public figure, on Oxford Street, I would want to take at least £30,000 in sales. 

And why was she (retail Guru) surprised by the stock lead time of a fashion range? It was evidence that she had cast aside all her business acumen and allowed it to get personal, almost to the point of foot stamping. “But why can't it be here now?” I really wanted the commercial director of House of Fraser to start spelling it out. Well, we have to design it and then order it. The factory have to schedule our production run in with the other orders they will have and then it has to be delivered from the Far East which can take from 2 weeks to 3 months depending on whether it is flown or comes by ship. And until you can decide on the colour of the fabric nothing will happen. There was a definite 'tension' between Mary and her idealised vision, and the Commercial Director with her 'You need me to make this happen' air. Loved that.

The final straw for me was her constant harping on about name badges. She has a meeting with the Store Manager who presumably is a busy man. Granted she is too, but I'm sure he managed to schedule a window for the TV camera. But given time pressure, and the priorities of selling stock, surely she should have been challenging the replenishment of her best selling lines rather than banging on about name badges. I know that the meeting will have been edited for good TV but surely, as a viewer, who could also be a new customer, you would want to know that her dresses were going to be back in stock. Hilariously someone tweeted during Tuesday's show that the infamous Aurora Dress was in stock online! Phew!

I respect Mary as a very successful business person who has found her niche in retail but what 'Mary Queen of Frocks' clearly demonstrated to me was that she has never actually been a retailer. This was a major gap in her credibility which was why her retail venture was absolutely necessary. We learn through making mistakes and I think she has learnt a lot. In the meantime us 40-something plus women are grateful for her efforts, appreciate the lovely Lesley, Spencer and Mark and will wait patiently for the roll out to our own High Streets. 

Mary considering my CV

Dear So and So - The Bad Tempered Edition

Dear Madam,

Because yes, you were a madam, an ignorant obnoxious madam who rightly deserved a very pointed "WELL EXCUSE ME!" when you took up the whole pavement and just stood there glaring at us when we, the stroppy woman pushing a pram, dragging a dog, nagging a boy and ignoring stroppy pre-schooler, were trying to maneuver along the narrow pavements. Funnily enough, you are not more important, more worthy or more superior than me, and do not own the rights to the pavement.

Yours, The stressy woman pushing a pram, dragging a dog, nagging a boy and ignoring stroppy pre-schooler.



Dear Sir,

You know when you saw the Princess having a strop in the middle of town, and you said "Oh, I'm sure it's not that bad.", and I grunted a bit, and then you said "Don't worry. Mummy will buy you some sweets." Well, as much as you thought your actions were well-meaning, they were not helpful.

Yours, The stressy woman pushing a pram, dragging a dog, nagging a boy and ignoring stroppy pre-schooler.



Dear Madam (2),

I know my pram was blocking the shop door. I know I was distracted by a rather lovely biscuit tin in the baking shop. I know it is normally customery to move out of the way if someone says 'Excuse me.'. But do you think the way you said ' Excuse me' with a heavy emphasis on the 'ME' with your hands thrown up in the air and a distinct air of huffiness is polite? No, me neither.

Yours, The woman who sarcastically said "Oh I am soooo sorry if I was in your way."



Dear Sir (2),

You know you work in a charity shop, where customers come to spend their money, so that the charity that you volunteer for can earn vital funds to support further research, fund hospices and pay nurses to care for the sick. Well, do you think that it was ever so slightly rude to push me out of the way and perhaps counterintuitive to rearrange the book shelves as I browsed them with the absolute intention of spending money in your charity shop? Just wondered.

Yours, The woman who muttered something about customer service as she huffed out of the shop.



Dear Charity Shop Volunteer,

No not the rude one who thinks alphabetising the book shelves is more important than selling books. The lovely one, in the next charity shop, who was so chatty and grateful for the donated childrens clothes. Thank you for restoring my faith in 'giving'.

Yours, The woman who smiled and complimented your customer service and will henceforth donate all her childrens cast offs to your charity.




Dear All,

I promise to try to be more patient and understanding and less bad tempered, if you do.

Yours, Me.




For more Dear So and So letters get over to 3 Bedroom Bungalow where she collects them :-)