Evins- shoe maker for the stars

Have you heard of Evins the shoe designer? Google it and you'll probably be redirected to Evans the shoe shop. This is a travesty.

David E. Evins designed shoe after shoe for decade after decade, many of his designs selected and worn by stars on the silver screen, the red carpet and in the White House.

David E. Evins himself

He began his career as a fashion illustrator for American Vogue soon after World War II. While sketching shoes for the magazine, he started to alter what he saw for effect, trying to make the shoes more appealing. His editor was not impressed, and sacked him. Telling him that if he wanted to design shoes, then that is what he should do for a living. And so, he did.

Evins designed shoes from 1958, now owned by The Metropolitan Museum of Art

He first worked as a pattern cutter for others, but in 1947 opened up a factory with his brother Lee in the spiritual home of high heels: New York City.

A year later he won the prestigious Coty Award to celebrate American fashion innovation. The prize was for his creation of the shell pump, a design which showed more of a woman's foot than ever before. In the 50's he launched a handmade shoe called '6 ounces'. It sold for $175 a pair at a time when quality women's shoes typically cost about $45. Arguably, many of us wear shoes based on this early design every day as our fail safe court shoes for work and dinners out. Supposedly Evins reaction to the many awards he won over his career was to stand in the middle of the factory floor and say: 'No kidding?'

But to really appreciate his importance in the history of shoes, you have to look at his client list. He designed shoes that were part of Grace Kelly's trousseau- fit to see her become a princess. And for Cher, Jackie O, Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner, Judy Garland (supposedly his favourite dinner date), Marlene Dietrich, Elizabeth Taylor and was an absolute favourite of Nancy Reagan who routinely ordered six pairs a year- two styles in three different sizes for winter, summer and for when aboard Airforce One.

Image courtesy of Cote de Texas blog

Evins died in 1991 at the age of 85, but his legacy lives on and if you would like to own a pair of his famous shoes, I have one pair for sale, and they are as lovingly designed as you would expect.

https://marketplace.asos.com/listing/shoes/red--black-court-shoes-by-evins--shoe-maker-to-the-stars/161430

The importance of being Edgar

So, the two men who gave their names to Edgar & Swan- one of our first, and arguably our most central department stores- weren't both alive when it became a national treasure of an emporium.

There are two accounts as to how this story began. The first sees William Edgar setting up a haberdashery stall at St James' Market in Haymarket. Penniless, he slept underneath this very stall every night. Saving what he could to start a shop of his own.

St James' Market, Haymarket c.1850 by Charles James Richardson

Alternatively, it began when he walked to London from Carlisle (yes, walked) ready with a letter of introduction from a draper he had helped out at home, and addressed to a London draper who we shall soon all meet, aka George Swan. Now if this is the case, Swan employed him from the off and a few years later Edgar had proven himself partner material. (Material. Ha! Geddit?)

Both these tales are romantic to someone like me, reading about it now from the warmth of home. I have images of him wrapped in the luxurious fabrics he would later sell, asleep on the cold damp streets of London, a Dickensian hero with charm and ambition. Oliver Twist like, walking country lanes on his way to the city that would see his retail dreams come true.

Was anyone else obsessed with the 1968 musical film version of Oliver as a child? I can still along. To all the songs. And must confess a bit of a crush on the Artful Dodger. The actor, aptly named Jack Wild, sadly died of cancer in 2006.

Whatever his introduction to the London, he must have been a hard worker to become such a spectacularly stellar success. Not to the manor born or to the manor bred, but to the manor made. As Eagle House in Clapham- now destroyed save the billiards room- was to become his home. A guidebook at the time described it as a 'large handsome house built with stock grey bricks' a 60 metre frontage and 'carriage drive', extensive gardens, a lake and gazebo. Florence Nightingale's grandfather was an earlier resident. And in those days there was no X-factor style quick buck to a house like this. Especially not from beneath a market stall.

The south side of Eagle House, Clapham, London

But that is it for now. I need to sleep (in a bed, but not a mansion) and dream of retail royalty...

Hello to Swan & Edgar, Piccadilly Pedlars

I recently sourced the most peachy perfect of vintage clutches. Its label tells me it is from Edgar and Swan Ltd. A quick Google search, and I realise this is a shop we all know.

Once called Virgin Megastore, then called Zavvi and only last year, re-opening its doors as the first UK offering from European retailers The Sting who are a self proclaimed 'brand network'. (1. Mute your computer before clicking on their site. 2. Anyone ever shopped there?).

This area of London is so busy with people, advertising, traffic and noise that you have probably never had time to look at the beautiful architecture above the changing brand names. Architecture which was mostly there before the tube station opened on the 10th March, 1906. 

Piccadilly Hotel, Regent Street front, 1905–8 thanks to www.british-history.ac.uk

 

This particular building was owned by The Piccadilly Hotel. Amongst much controversy, debate and demands from the management of Edgar and Shaw, it was rebuilt between 1910 and 1920, and Edgar & Shaw moved in.

It was one of the first such department stores in the UK and London, following a trend which started in the middle of the previous century in Paris for a variety of goods to be made available under one roof. (Brand network anyone?) It was a destination for shoppers, fashionable ladies and those wanting to rest with a cup of tea.

Over the next few blogs I'll tell you more about it, what happened, who Edgar and Swan were, how their shop has fitted into all of our histories... and the clutch that I have from this very emporium.

The colour of memory

A few months ago, I married.


Only a month later, my new mother-in-law died. Needless to say, what was an immeasurably happy time became a drudgingly sad one.

Kerstin was many things to many people. Mother, model, friend, shopkeeper... She knew where in Stockholm to find the finest cakes, source the most proper furniture and get the best haircut and styling. Some of these things she told me about, some I have learnt while visiting her city to attend to the various bits of admin that surround a family member's death.


One thing I was surprised to learn from her posthumously, was the absolute right red lipstick for me. This is a close to impossible task for many women, and is something I know she would have been immensely pleased I achieved thanks to her, and the make up she left behind.



The colour is Ravish Me Red, from Revlon. I put it on and it makes not just my lips look better, but my eyes and hair too. It makes them softly kissable and has reasonable staying power.



The best thing is, wearing it I remember Kerstin. I remember the glamorous woman she was. A woman who knew about lipsticks. A woman who moved from the Swedish countryside, to Stockholm, to LA, to London... And back again. Who brought up two devilishly smart children after her husband died only a couple of years after the second was born. Who welcomed me lovingly into her family. And who had bucket loads of style. I wish I had known her as the vintage style party girl she once was. I think we'd have been friends. Friends who shared lipstick.



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It was the schmokin' summer of 1970

Today we saw Jimi. The Jimi. Sir Jimi. Jimi HENDRIIIIIIX. And he said that I was his inspiration. Well, that we were all his inspiration. But when he sang Foxy Lady. I'm sure it was to me. He gets me. Totally. And I am a frenzy for him.

Can. You. Even. Imagine. Thrilled in the proper and electrical sense of the word. Thrilled.

I want to live in festival land for life. I'd banish Hells Angels. I want all the people who want things smoking in a good way, the fun way and the love way. Jimi's way, my way and our way.

The Isle of Wight is where I'll be forever happy. We all will. I love you Jimi. I love you all.