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 are following Edith, Lettice’s maid, as she heads east of Mayfair, to a place far removed from the elegance and gentility of Lettice’s flat, in London’s East End. As a young woman, Edith is very interested in fashion, particularly now that she is stepping out with Mr. Willison the grocer’s delivery boy, Frank Leadbetter. Luckily like most young girls of her class, her mother has taught Edith how to sew her own clothes and she has become an accomplished dressmaker, having successfully made frocks from scratch for herself, or altered cheaper existing second-hand pieces to make them more fashionable by letting out waistlines and taking up hems. Thanks to Lettice’s Cockney charwoman*, Mrs. Boothby, who lives in nearby Poplar, Edith now has her own hand treadle Singer** sewing machine courtesy of her son Ken who works for a rag-and-bone man*** and found her one. Mrs. Boothby also assisted Edith by recommending her to a wonderful haberdasher in Whitechapel, where she now goes to on occasion on her days off when she needs something for one of her many sewing projects as she slowly adds to and updates her wardrobe. It is at Mrs. Minkin’s Haberdashery, just a short walk from Petticoat Lane**** where Edith often picks up bargains from one of the many second-hand clothes stalls, that we find ourselves today. She is visiting Mrs. Minkin with her best friend and fellow maid, Hilda, who works for Lettice’s friends, Dickie and Margot Channon. The two maids have been busy collecting a few items to purchase: Edith some trims for her latest frock alteration, and Hilda some wool for her new passion for knitting which she developed after joining Mrs. Minkin’s knitting circle a few months ago, which meets in a nearby local benevolent society’s hall in Whitechapel once a fortnight.
“Ahh!” sighs Mrs. Minkin in satisfaction as she admires the straw hat decorated with ornamental flowers and ribbons atop Edith’s head. “How well my hat suits you, Edit my dear! I’m glad I twisted your finger to buy it.”
A refugee from Odessa as a result of a pogrom***** in 1905, Mrs. Minkin’s Russian accent, still thick after nearly twenty years of living in London’s East End, muffles the h at the end of Edith’s name, making the young girl smile, for it is an endearing quality of the older Jewess. Edith likes the proprietress with her old fashioned upswept hairdo and frilly Edwardian lace jabot running down the front of her blouse, held in place today by a circlet of dark red winking garnets – a gift from her equally beloved and irritating husband, Mr. Minkin. She always has a smile and a kind word for Edith and Hilda, and her generosity towards them has found Edith discover extra spools of coloured cottons or curls of pretty ribbons and other notions****** in the lining of her parcels when she unpacks them at Cavendish Mews, whilst Hilda comes away with some extra wool that Mrs. Minkin claims she was just about to throw away. Mrs. Minkin always insists when the girls mention it, that she wished all her life that she had had a daughter, but all she ever had were sons, so Edith and Hilda are like a surrogate daughters to her, and as a result they get to reap the small benefits of her largess, at least until one of her sons finally makes her happy and brings home a girl she approves of.
“I think you’ll find that the saying is twisting one’s arm, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith corrects her politely. “And it was quite an extravagance, even on sale.”
“Well, it was worth it, Edit my dear!” Mrs. Minkin enthuses. “It was made for you. I said that from the first time I saw you try it on, didn’t I?”
“You did, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith admits with a shy smile.
Edith sighs and takes in a deep breath of air. Mrs. Minkin’s establishment is a comforting haven from the busy East End world outside her door. The bolts and rolls of fabrics lining the walls muffle the sound, whilst the smell of fresh linen, and lavender and clove sachets uses to keep insects at bay, also keep out the unpleasant odours of the East End. The shop is organised and cosy, and she always feels welcome when she crosses the threshold.
“Anyway, you can afford it now, Edith.” Hilda pipes up.
“What’s this you say, dear Hilde?” Mrs. Minkin queries, using the slightly altered variation of Hilda’s name, which she has now gotten used to after months of being part of Mrs. Minkin’s knitting circle. She cocks an expertly plucked eyebrow over her right eye as she looks towards the young maid standing behind her gleaming brass cash register.
“Well, Edith’s gone and landed herself an extra four shillings a month in wages, Mrs. Minkin.” Hilda replies.
“Really Edit?” the old Russian Jewess exclaims, clasping her worn bejewelled fingers together in delight. “This is marvellous news indeed, my dear!”
“You make it sound like I arranged for it to happen, Hilda.” Edith admonishes her friend as she flushes red with embarrassment. “And I didn’t. It was all Miss Lettice’s idea, and well you know it. I didn’t do anything to receive it.”
“I never said you did.” Hilda replies with a cheeky smile.
“Except be your beautiful self, Edit my dear!” Mrs. Minkin adds, her eyes sparkling with delight for her young customer’s good news as she grasps the strands of tape measure draped around her neck as they dangle down her tightly corseted front. “I’m sure your work is worth every one of those four shillings, my dear. Mazel tov*******!”
“Thank you Mrs. Minkin.” Edith replies shyly.
“So, you come to spend some of that good fortune at my shop, bringing me hatz’lachah********. Thank you Edit, my dear.”
“Well, I would have come anyway, Mrs. Minkin. You always have the best notions at the most affordable prices.”
“Well of course I do, Edit my dear! I haven’t been in business for nearly twenty years without getting some things right!” Mrs. Minkin laughs good naturedly. Turning her attention to Hilda, she asks, “And do you have an increase in wages too, dear Hilde?”
“Chance would be a fine thing!” Hilda scoffs.
“No?” Mrs. Minkin queries, her jolly round face falling in disappointment for your young customer as she does.
“I wish, Mrs. Minkin! I dream of getting a wage increase like that, but there is no way Mr. and Mrs. Channon, my employers, can afford it.”
“That’s too bad, dear Hilde!” the old Jewess opines.
“I still think it’s worth asking Mrs. Channon, Hilda.” Edith insists. “She might cry poor, but we all know that her idea of being poor, and ours, are quite different.”
“I can’t do that, Edith!” Hilda exclaims. “I can’t just go to Mrs. Channon and say, ‘Edith got an extra four shillings a month, so I want four shillings too.’ can I?”
“Well, I think you should just casually let it slip into the conversation with Mrs. Channon that Miss Lettice gave me an extra four shillings a month. You know Mrs. Channon thinks the world of Miss Lettice, and if Miss Lettice does a thing, Mrs. Channon usually follows suit. It’s why we both have the same days off.”
“Well, I don’t know.” Hilda says doubtfully. “Days off are one thing, but an extra four shillings a month is quite another.”
“If you don’t ask, you don’t know, Hilda,” Edith replies with a firm nod. “And if you don’t ask, you don’t receive either: and that’s a fact!”
“We’ll see.” Hilda concedes, but the hesitation in her voice implies to Edith that she probably won’t do as she suggests.
“Now, let’s see what you girls have selected from my little establishment.” Mrs. Minkin remarks, glancing down at Edith’s purchases sitting on the glass topped counter. “Oh yes, some lovely Bakelite********* buttons,” she comments as she picks up the card with several fine rectangular gleaming brown buttons on it. “These are very fashionable: very…. what’s the word…” She raises the knuckle of her right index finger to her chin and together with her thumb she rubs her jowly flesh whilst she ruminates over the correct word to use. “Very… chic**********. Yes! That’s it! very chic! And, some pretty ribbon too.” She picks up the spool of pale blue grosgrain satin and contemplates it for a moment. “The hue will bring out the colour in your eyes, Edit my dear.” She says, making Edith’s cheeks colour again.
“It’s to brighten up one of her old dance frocks for when we next go to the Hammersmith Palais*********** with Frank, Mrs, Minkin.”
“Hhhmmm.” Mrs. Minkin sounds her approval. “It’s good not to waste money on new clothes, when you can make do by re-modelling existing ones.”
“You’ll soon go out of business talking like that, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith laughs.
“I only say this to my good customers, Edit my dear. You spend your precious pennies and shillings on good quality bits and pieces in my shop, and allow me to make my kesef************ from those loud goyim************* that sweep in here like the Queen of Sheba with their painted faces and gawdy clothes, thinking that just because Mr. Minkin and I are Jews that they can get a bargain out of us.” She scoffs bitterly as she concludes her sentence. “No, you are a smart girl: much smarter than they are. You shop for bargains, and you look for gifts all year round. This is the last of the roll, so only about nine inches. You pay me for six.”
“Oh but Mrs. Minkin…”
“Mrs. Minkin silences Edith’s protestations with a raised hand. “Now, oh yes, a packet of sewing needles, and the latest copy of Weldon’s************* and,” She pauses. “And Weldon’s special spring fashion catalogue? But it’s almost autumn now. Anyway, don’t you have this already, Edit my dear?”
“I do, Mrs. Minkin, but I want to buy a copy for Mum. She likes the embroidery patterns in Weldon’s, but she won’t let me give her new copies. I usually give her my old ones, but I quite fancied some of the embroidery in this edition, so I’m keeping it. I don’t want her to miss out.”
“That’s very good of you, Edit my dear. I bet your mother keeps an eye on the latest wedding frocks too.” the old Jewess says with a wink. “Just so she knows what’s in fashion when you and Frank get married.”
“Well, I suppose we both do, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith replies a little awkwardly.
“Your mother is a lucky woman to have a daughter like you who is so kind and caring. I wish I was so lucky.”
“What about Emmi?” Hilda asks, referring to Mrs. Minkin’s daughter-in-law who is married to her eldest son, Samuel.
“Who?” Mrs. Minkin asks distractedly as she starts to add up Edith’s purchases in her head.
“Emmi, Samuel’s wife.” Hilda elucidates.
“Oy vey***************!” the old Jewess cries, throwing her bejewelled hands in the air. “Emmi is nothing like my dear Edit!”
“What’s wrong with Emmi?” Hilda asks in defence of the polite, friendly and chatty young girl with fiery red hair who always shows up to Mrs. Minkin’s knitting circle looking fashionably smart and select and who happily natters away to Hilda like they have been friends for years.
“It’s all Mr. Minkin’s fault! He let Samuel marry Emmi because Samuel had his heart set on her. He wanted to marry for love. For love!” She spits out the last two words with disappointment. “Who ever heard such a thing?”
“Well, I love Frank, Mrs. Minkin, and we will get married eventually, when we have enough money behind us.”
“You young people today are so tiresome,” Mrs. Minkin retorts. “Too wound up in this idea of love that you pick up from those moving pictures you all watch.”
“You don’t believe in love, Mrs. Minkin?” Edith asks in surprise.
“Of course I do, but love will come in time, Edit my dear. First comes marriage and then comes love.” Mrs. Minkin insists kindly, reaching out and patting her hand.
“Not the other way around, Mrs. Minkin?” Hilda asks.
“Oy vey, no, dear Hilde! When I first met Mr. Minkin, it was on our wedding day when we said our vows beneath the chuppah****************, and look at us today, thirty-five years later, we are still husband and wife and proud parents to three sons too!” She smiles proudly. She ponders for a moment before going on, “Marriage is like… like a… a cake. Yes! Like a cake!”
“A cake, Mrs. Minkin?” Edith splutters in disbelief. “How can a marriage be like a cake?”
“You may doubt me,” Mrs, Minkin wags her right index finger first at Edith and then at Hilda, the emerald in the gold ring on it winking merrily in the light of the haberdashery. “But believe me, after thirty-five years of marriage, I know.” She settles back contentedly behind her counter. “Marriage is like a cake. You need to work hard at it, with the right ingredients, to make it work.”
“And love?” Hilda asks.
“Well, you don’t know you love a cake until you taste it, and sometimes you need more than one slice before you realise that you love it.”
Edith and Hilda chuckle light heartedly at the old Jewess’ rather peculiar sounding idea.
“My words no doubt seem strange to you, but believe me, when I say to you both I am right, my dears. Mrs. Minkin knows.” She taps the side of her nose with her right index finger.
“Well, I still don’t see what cakes have to do with Emmi and Samuel.” Hilda adds.
“Well, sometimes cakes aren’t always what they appear to be. You think you are going to eat a lovely, sweet medovik*****************… a.. err… a cake made from honey, and you end up with a muraveynik******************… err… an anthill cake, instead!”
“Are you saying that Samuel loved Emmi, but now that they are married, she is different person,” Hilda gasps. “And that now he doesn’t love her?”
“No Hilde!” Mrs. Minkin exclaims in exasperation. “He’s as in love with her as much now as when he first laid eyes on her, if not more so! My son the schlemiel*******************!” She raises her gaze to the white painted plaster ceiling overhead in vexation. “And that silly Emmi is no better, mooning after Samuel when he goes out to work every day at Mr. Cohen the mechant’s.”
“I’ve found Emmi to always be lovely when she comes to our knitting circle, Mrs. Minkin.” Hilda comments.
“I must confess, if Samuel loves Emmi, and she loves him, I don’t see what the problem is, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith remarks.
“The problem is that I don’t love her!” Mrs. Minkin wails. “I tell you; I wanted daughters like you, and what do I get? I get Emmi Katz! I would never have picked Emmi Katz for my Samuel if I knew what I know now, and what any decent matchmaker in Whitechapel would know! Oy vey! She is the opposite to you! She dreams of a better life living in Hampstead Garden Suburb******************** with Samuel, far away from me and Mr. Minkin, and the squalor, as she calls it, of the East End. Yet she never lifts a finger to achieve it!”
“Well, it’s good to have dreams and aspirations, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith defends.
“That lazy Emmy just sits around our house looking decorous all day and does nothing!” Mrs. Minkin says derisively. “The other week, I asked her for the first time to bake the challah********************* for the Sabbath and what did she do?”
“What?” Edith and Hilda ask together, both holding their breath.
“She burned it! The foy meydl********************** burned the challah!” Mrs. Minkin bemoans. “Oy vey!”
“Oh dear!” Edith exclaims, glancing at Hilda as she does.
“It’s not like she had a parlour maid at home before she married my Samuel,” Mrs. Minkin cries. “Sarah can’t afford one any more than I can! Then again, it’s her mother I blame for indulging her, just as I blame Mr. Minkin for indulging Samuel’s wish to marry for love. My marriage to Mr. Minkin was arranged, and we make a successful partnership. We didn’t need love. We needed patience and understanding, and then like a flower, love bloomed.”
“Well we don’t have arranged marriages in our family, Mrs. Minkin,” Edith says kindly. “Or matchmakers. So, I shall have to rely on my feelings of love for Frank, however flawed they may be, to make the right decision about marrying him.”
“Has he proposed to you yet, Edit my dear?”
“Not in as many words, Mrs. Minkin, but he is committed to the idea of us getting married, and he will.” Edith assures her.
“He just has to work up the courage to officially ask her.” Hilda interjects cheekily.
“We are both just saving up a little bit more money before we think about marriage, and then he will go to my father and ask for my hand.” Edith says, ignoring her friend’s impudent remark.
“Well, he’s a good man if he is doing the correct thing and asking your father for your hand, before he proposes to you.” Mrs. Minkin replies with a comforted sigh. “I approve of that. Just do me one more favour, Edit my dear.”
“And what’s that, Mrs. Minkin.”
“Just make sure that Frank is good to your parents, as you are to them,” The old Jewess’ eyebrows arch over her dark eyes. “And be kind to your future mother-in-law, as you would your own mother. Eh? Don’t be the sow’s purse made out of a silk ear, like Emmi is.”
Edith laughs. “Alright Mrs. Minkin, I will. I promise.”
“Good girl!” Mrs. Minkin says with a satisfied sigh and a smile as she begins to wrap up Edith’s purchases. “You can have that copy of Weldon’s for your mother for nothing, just because you are a dear girl. So, that will be two shillings and ninepence.”
“Mrs. Minkin!” Edith protests. “I… I can’t…”
“Of course you can!” the older woman insists, patting Edith’s hand comfortingly again. “As I said, if I had a daughter, or daughter-in-law like you, I’d spoil her no end!”
“Well, I think you are a bit too hard on poor Emmi.” Hilda remarks defensively of Mrs. Minkin’s daughter-in-law as Edith hands her money to Mrs. Minkin. “I think she is charming. Perhaps she’s not the best cook in the whole world, but I wasn’t either, until Edith taught me a thing or two. I also couldn’t knit, and I was afraid to even pick up a pair of needles until,” She looks meaningfully at the older woman behind the counter. “I had a good, kind and patient teacher like you. Perhaps Emmi needs the same to help her stop burning the bread.”
“Pshaw!” Mrs. Minkin scoffs as she takes up the two balls of wool and new knitting needles that make up Hilda’s purchase, her face colouring in shame at being called out by her young customer. “You’re a wise girl, dear Hilde – wiser than your years. You won’t get married for love.” she pronounces.
“How do you know I won’t, Mrs. Minkin?” Hilda retorts.
“Because you are too smart, and your head rules your heart, not the other way around like my foolish Samuel.” Mrs. Minkin replies. “You’ll marry a young scholar and your minds will meet. Then love will follow, as it should.”
Just as she speaks, the door to Mrs. Minkin’s storeroom opens and a man in a grey flat cap with a dark beard that is starting to slowly grey steps out. He wears a beautiful silk cravat of crimson and gold at his throat – an expensive and stylish piece rather at odds with the rest of his outfit of a thick apron over a collarless shirt, dark woollen vest and worn work trousers. He has thick bushy eyebrows over soft, dark brown eyes, and a gentle and friendly smile graces his aging face.
“Rachel.” he calls in a soft, rumbling voice that is deep and comforting.
“Well Soloman,” Mrs. Minkin replies, spinning to her right, away from Edith and Hilda to face her husband, placing her hands firmly on her hips in a stance she is obviously well versed in striking after thirty-five years of marriage and raising three sons. “We were just talking about you!”
“Oh dear!” Mr. Minkin exclaims. “What have I done now?” He glances anxiously at the two girls on the customer side of the glass topped shop counter, although he notes that neither of them look particularly upset by some article they want being unattainable or out of stock.
“You only let our Samuel marry that useless Emmi Levi for love!” Mrs. Minkin elucidates bitterly as she sweeps from behind the counter towards her hapless husband.
As Mrs. Minkin’s accusation charged tones ring around her haberdashery as she nags her husband, Hilda turns to Edith and asks, “Are you sure you want to get married, Edith?” She nods in the general direction of the Minkins. “It might be more trouble than it’s worth.”
Edith looks at Mr. and Mrs. Minkin. Although Mrs. Minkin’s voice is raised in protest, Edith can tell that she isn’t really cross with her husband, at least not as much as she proclaims. And catching the slight smile on Mr. Minkin’s lips and the sparkle in his eye, she can see that he isn’t worried by anything she is saying, and in fact he might be silently admiring the pluck and determination of the woman whom he met for the first time as a quiet and shy bride beneath the wedding chuppah in Odessa thirty-five years ago.
“For better or worse!” Edith sighs.
*A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.
**The Singer Corporation is an American manufacturer of consumer sewing machines, first established as I. M. Singer & Co. in 1851 by Isaac M. Singer with New York lawyer Edward C. Clark. Best known for its sewing machines, it was renamed Singer Manufacturing Company in 1865, then the Singer Company in 1963. In 1867, the Singer Company decided that the demand for their sewing machines in the United Kingdom was sufficiently high to open a local factory in Glasgow on John Street. The Vice President of Singer, George Ross McKenzie selected Glasgow because of its iron making industries, cheap labour, and shipping capabilities. Demand for sewing machines outstripped production at the new plant and by 1873, a new larger factory was completed on James Street, Bridgeton. By that point, Singer employed over two thousand people in Scotland, but they still could not produce enough machines. In 1882 the company purchased forty-six acres of farmland in Clydebank and built an even bigger factory. With nearly a million square feet of space and almost seven thousand employees, it was possible to produce on average 13,000 machines a week, making it the largest sewing machine factory in the world. The Clydebank factory was so productive that in 1905, the U.S. Singer Company set up and registered the Singer Manufacturing Company Ltd. in the United Kingdom.
***A rag-and-bone man is a person who goes from street to street in a vehicle or with a horse and cart buying things such as old clothes and furniture. He would then sell these items on to someone else for a small profit.
****Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.
*****Pogroms in the Russian Empire were large-scale, targeted, and repeated anti-Jewish rioting that began in the Nineteenth Century. Pogroms began to occur after Imperial Russia, which previously had very few Jews, acquired territories with large Jewish populations from the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Ottoman Empire from 1772 to 1815. The 1905 pogrom against Jews in Odessa was the most serious pogrom of the period, with reports of up to 2,500 Jews killed. Jews fled Russia, some ending up in London’s east end, which had a reasonably large Jewish community, particularly associated with clothing manufacturing.
******In sewing and haberdashery, notions are small objects or accessories, including items that are sewn or otherwise attached to a finished article, such as buttons, snaps, and collar stays. Notions also include the small tools used in sewing, such as needles, thread, pins, marking pens, elastic, and seam rippers.
*******"Mazel tov" (romanized: mázl tov) or "mazal tov" is a Jewish phrase used to express congratulations for a happy and significant occasion or event and translates as “good luck” or “good fortune”.
********Hatz’lachah is the Hebrew way to say “success”.
*********Bakelite, was the first plastic made from synthetic components. Patented on December 7, 1909, the creation of a synthetic plastic was revolutionary for its electrical nonconductivity and heat-resistant properties in electrical insulators, radio and telephone casings and such diverse products as kitchenware, jewellery, pipe stems, children's toys, and firearms. A plethora of items were manufactured using Bakelite in the 1920s and 1930s.
**********Borrowed from French chic (“elegant”), which in turn is probably derived from German Schick (“elegant appearance; tasteful presentation”), the word “chic” came into the British lexicon and became common parlance thanks to Lucy, Lady Duff-Gordon, a leading British fashion designer in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries who worked under the professional name Lucile. The first British-based designer to achieve international acclaim, Lucy Duff-Gordon was a widely acknowledged innovator in couture styles as well as in fashion industry public relations. In addition to originating the "mannequin parade", a precursor to the modern fashion show, and training the first professional models, she launched slit skirts and low necklines, popularized less restrictive corsets, and promoted alluring and pared-down lingerie.
***********The Hammersmith Palais de Danse, in its last years simply named Hammersmith Palais, was a dance hall and entertainment venue in Hammersmith, London, England that operated from 1919 until 2007. It was the first palais de danse to be built in Britain.
************Kesef is the Biblical Hebrew word for both "silver" and "money." It is easy to understand the relationship between the two words, as one of the earliest forms of "money" was weighed bags of silver.
*************In Hebrew and Yiddish, “goy” is a term for a gentile: a non-Jew. Through Yiddish, the word has been adopted into English also to mean "gentile", sometimes in a pejorative sense. Goyim is the plural variation of the word.
**************Created by British industrial chemist and journalist Walter Weldon Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was the first ‘home weeklies’ magazine which supplied dressmaking patterns. Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was first published in 1875 and continued until 1954 when it ceased publication.
***************Oy vey is a commonly used Jewish exclamation indicating dismay or grief.
****************A traditional Jewish wedding ceremony takes place under a chuppah (wedding canopy), symbolizing the new home being built by the couple when they become husband and wife. The chuppah used in Ashkenazi ceremonies includes a cloth canopy held up by four beams.
*****************A medovic (medovik is from “med” – honey) is a sweet honey cake made in Russia. The history of the cake begins in the early Nineteenth Century in the kitchen of Emperor Alexander I. His wife, Empress Elizabeth, couldn’t stand honey - any dish made with it drove her mad. One day, however, a young new confectioner in the Imperial kitchen wasn’t aware of this, so he baked a new cake with honey and thick sour cream. Surprisingly, and oblivious to the honey content, Empress Elizabeth immediately fell in love with the delicious pudding.
******************Meaning anthill in Russian, a muraveynik cake is so named because of its shape. A simple muraveynik consists of crumbled sweet biscuits mixed with cream and piled into a hill shape. Most Russian families have their own recipe and it is a simple cake made from ingredients readily available in any Russian kitchen.
*******************Schlemiel is a Yiddish term meaning "inept/incompetent person" or "fool". It is a common archetype in Jewish humour, and so-called "schlemiel jokes" depict the schlemiel falling into unfortunate situations.
********************Hampstead Garden Suburb is an elevated suburb of London, north of Hampstead, west of Highgate and east of Golders Green. It is known for its intellectual, liberal, artistic, musical and literary associations. It is an example of early Twentieth Century domestic architecture and town planning in the London Borough of Barnet, northwest London. The master plan was prepared by Barry Parker and Sir Raymond Unwin. Comprising just over five thousand properties, and home to around sixteen thousand people, undivided houses with individual gardens are a key feature. The area enjoys landscaped garden squares, several communal parks and Hampstead Heath Extension. Hampstead Garden Suburb was founded by Henrietta Barnett, who, with her husband Samuel, had started the Whitechapel Art Gallery and Toynbee Hall. In 1906, Barnett set up the Hampstead Garden Suburb Trust Ltd, which purchased 243 acres of land from Eton College for the scheme and appointed Raymond Unwin as its architect. Among the scheme's aims were that it should cater for all classes of people and all income groups, that here should be a low housing density, that roads should be wide and tree-lined, that houses should be separated by hedges, not walls, that woods and public gardens should be free to all and it should be quiet, with no church bells. Interestingly, Hampstead Garden Suburb, like Golders Green ended up with a high Jewish population of residents.
*********************Challah is an enriched white yeasted bread served on Fridays. More specifically, it's eaten on the Jewish sabbath (which starts on Friday at sunset and ends after dark on Saturday). The term “challah” is applied more widely to mean any bread used in Jewish rituals. On the eve of Shabbat, two loaves are placed on the table to reference the Jewish teaching that a double portion of manna fell from heaven on Friday to last through the Saturday Shabbat.
**********************“Foy meydl” is Yiddish for “lazy girl”.
Mrs. Minkin’s cluttered haberdashers counter covered in an assortment of notions is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The copy of Weldon’s Dressmaker Spring Fashions edition and the edition behind it on the counter are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. In this case, the magazine is non-opening, however what might amaze you is that all Ken Blythe’s books and magazines are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
The spools of ribbon, the packet of Victoria brand egg eyed sharps in the foreground on the counter and the brown buttons at the rear of the counter I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House in the United Kingdom.
The balls of wool and the knitting needles I acquired from an online miniature specialist stockist in the United Kingdom via eBay. The Superior Quality buttons on cards in the foreground to the left, along with the spools of bright cottons on the right come from various online shops who sell dollhouse miniatures.
Edith’s green leather handbag and Hilda’s brown one I acquired from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel as part of a larger collection of 1:12 artisan miniature hats, gloves, accessories and haberdashery goods.
