In 1989 an article appeared in The Guardian. Its title was ‘Shopping in the very worst possible taste.’
The journalist had visited a second hand shop in Sheffield’s Devonshire Street, in those days the home of cool record emporiums and fashionable wine bars. There he had discovered Hilda Flower, queen of her own domain – that domain being a four-storey building stuffed with clothes. From 1950s’ dresses to 60s’ kaftans, 70s’ punk and 80s’ post punk counterculture, the shop’s stock spanned the previous half century. Many items were priced at just 50p.
Hilda was Julie Flower’s Grandma, and this is her story.
The Patter House Snug stage is set with an assortment of mannequins, draped in what would now be termed ‘vintage wear.’ Each model bears a star-shaped cut out sign of the type once popular in street markets; ‘Quality’, ‘Bargain’, ‘Genuine’. (Pay attention to these, they change as the show progresses.) In the centre is an easel displaying that Guardian article. In the 70s and 80s the Sheffield music scene was thriving; Cockers Joe and Jarvis were born there, and it was also home to the Thompson Twins and Human League. Hits like You Can Leave Your Hat On provide a fitting soundtrack.
Then in bursts Julie, a woman who exudes happiness and joie de vivre. She’s a great storyteller, and she has a great story to tell.
Grandma’s shop didn’t have a sign outside its yellow painted door, the back room was stacked with bags full of clothes, the cellar with shoes of all sizes. Round the back lived 29 stray cats; all of the shop’s profits went to feeding them. Not for nothing did another journalist label Hilda ‘Cat Woman.’
The shop had become a Sheffield institution, selling to everyone from students (‘they’ll buy anything and pay anything!’) to punks, aspiring musicians and members of the trans community. Hilda welcomed them all, adjusting her prices to suit her clientele. One of her regulars
brought her dripping cakes. And on Saturday mornings Julie worked in the shop with grandma,
‘It was my own four storey dressing up box.’
Julie recreates her 12 year old self perfectly. She’s a little bit innocent, full of enthusiasm (except when it comes to feeding those cats…) and adores her unconventional Grandma. This award-winning improviser switches between her past and present personas so well that the show is never confusing. And those two personas are equally charming; 35 years on Julie still has that 12 year old’s zest for life
For every single customer, Hilda could lay her hands on exactly what was needed. This was her gift; she knew how to make everyone feel special, how to find the clothes to boost their confidence and make them the stars of their own lives. Julie dons some of the outfits for us; in a leopard skin coat and shades she is indeed transformed, and much more glamorously than the average fashion model.
Another of Hilda’s skills lay in persuading people they’d got a bargain, regardless of the truth of the matter. She was a shopkeeper through and through, yet she was also a dyed-in-the-wool socialist. As Julie says, ‘people are complicated.’ To a recording of cheers and boos, Julie imagines a wrestling match between Hilda and another well-known shopkeeper’s daughter, one who at the time was seeking a third term in government. It’s handbags at dawn, and Julie wields them with unbridled energy. I’ll leave you to guess who wins.
Hilda never threw anything away. These days, Julie says, she’d no doubt be offered help for her hoarding habits, but back then she was
simply ‘different’, so much so that she was featured in another newspaper article about research into eccentrics (which proved that such people are happier and better able to cope with life than the rest of us.)
Using the effective medium of a fictional family history course to tell Hilda’s story, every week Julie reports on the progress of her investigations to the group members, each of whom she voices. There’s snobbish Sally, ancient Bernard, and Estelle, who’s terribly upset by the results of her DNA test – but even Sally, with her patronising comments on Julie’s working class background, is portrayed with kindness. She’s ridiculous rather than vicious, no offence is taken, and we all have a good laugh at her Hyacinth Bucket-style pretensions.
Julie’s fascinated by that Guardian article, which turned Hilda into a mini-celebrity and brought her a new class of clientele, one that she wasn’t instantly thrilled about. Seeking more information, Julie posts on social media; the responses flood in. Everyone has good memories of Grandma, or ‘Auntie Hilda’, as she was to one and all.
Julie also digs into Hilda’s past, and we soon realise that having a four-storey shop stuffed with purple jumpsuits and American tan tights was but one aspect of Grandma’s ‘difference.’ Denied the education she deserved (her Mum couldn’t afford the uniform), she’d ploughed
her own furrow, separated from her husband at a time when (unless you were a member of the aristocracy) to do so was scandalous, shacked up with an Irish comedian, and toured the 1960s’ working men’s clubs’ circuit with him. She’d put up with a lot of backchat, but she’d carried on regardless. Brave and forthright, Hilda had strong views on many things, from the neutering of cats (bad) to the proliferation of charity shops (worse – ‘they don’t pay rates!’) and the Tory party (unspeakable.)
Grandma’s Shop is a show full of memories, nostalgia and laughter, but there’s more to it than that. Julie shows us how clothes tell stories; all of those old frocks and jackets, the red stilettoes, even the ‘sturdy’ outsize bras, once belonged to somebody, were a part of their lives. The show commemorates the extraordinary life of an ‘ordinary’ person. The History degree Julie took at university was all about white men and big events, but
‘You shouldn’t need to be famous to have a biography.’
There are some excellent Fringe shows about some very bad things; food poverty, the state of the NHS, the pandemic…but once in a while we need a happy, quirky, story, one that shines its gentle light on someone a little bit different. Julie Flower: Grandma’s Shop is just that; you will leave bathed in the warm glow of humanity at its best.
Julie Flower: Grandma’s Shop is at Venue 24: Gilded Balloon Patter House (Snug), Chambers Street at 12.20 every day until 26th
August. Tickets here.
