Don’t Make me Tire of You - a photo on Flickriver

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 north-west of Cavendish Mews, up past the Wallace Collection* in Marylebone, over Reget’s Park and the London Zoo, up through Camden Town, skirting Primrose Hill**, through Belsize Park, along the Finchley Road, trailing Sir John’s imposing chauffer driven black Worsley as he travels his fiancée, Lettice to Cricklewood Aerodrome*** where the two are to catch the midday London-to-Paris air service****.

Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.

Dressed in a sage green travelling coat and matching cloche hat featuring satin roses and bows and peacock feathers, even though it is a mild autumnal day in London, Lettice also wears her thick arctic fox fur stole as she sits comfortably against the red Moroccan leather banquette of the passenger cabin of the Worsley. Having taken the London-to-Paris flight from Cricklewood Aerodrome several times since its inception in 1920, Lettice knows that whilst the Lloyd loom***** wicker seats of the aeroplane are comfortable to sit in, the aeroplane cabin itself can get cold, and whilst tartan knee blankets are provided by a helpful steward aboard, it leaves passengers’ upper bodies exposed. For his part, Sir John is dressed in one of his smart well-cut Jermyn Street****** suits, but he has a Burberry mackintosh******* on the seat between them, in readiness for the journey as he has used the London-to-Paris service many times since 1920 to visit his sister, Clemance and her husband Harrison when they lived in Paris, and for him to also enjoy the carnal pleasures of night time Paris that the French capital is famous for, pursuing a string of actresses and chorus girls around the city of lights.

The couple are travelling to Paris so that Lettice may attend the ‘Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes’******** which is highlighting and showcasing the new modern style of architecture and interior design known as Art Deco of which Lettice is an exponent. Now that Lettice has finished her commission for a feature wall at the Essex country retreat of the world famous British concert pianist Sylvia Fordyce, Lettice is moving on to her next project: a series of principal rooms in the Queen Anne’s Gate********* home for Dolly Hatchett, the wife of Labour MP for Towers Hamlets********** Charles Hatchett, for whom she has done work before. Mrs. Hatchett wants a series of stylish formal rooms in which to entertain her husband’s and her own influential friends in style and elegance, and has given Lettice carte-blanche to decorate as she sees fit to provide the perfect interior for her.

“Oh no.” Sir John mutters with annoyance.

Brought around from her own thoughts as to what wonderful new Style Moderne*********** furnishings she will see at the exhibition, Lettice turns to her fiancée as he stares out at the small huddle of sheds and hangars up ahead that make up the Cricklewood Aerodrome. “What’s wrong, John? What is it?”

Sir John sighs with irritation, his heckles rising as he does. “It’s just the usual mêlée of gossip hungry press reporters for the London tabloids, anxious to see who is going to Paris, and trying to find out why.” He sighs more heavily, this time with resignation. “How very tiring.”

“Oh, that is annoying.” Lettice mutters. “Can Perkins avoid them?” she asks, referring to Sir John’s chauffer.

“You know as well as I do, Lettice my dear, that there is only one way in or out of the Cricklewood Aerodrome.”

The Worsley slows as it joins the queue of other cars entering the aerodrome’s gates, inching forward behind a rich russet coloured Lea Francis************. As they stop, press photographers scurry up to the car’s windows, the men in their uniform of members of the press - cheap tan coloured macintoshes and battered brown and black Derbies – peering through the glass windows of the car’s passenger cabin and then, upon realising who is sitting inside, quickly lift the cameras. Lettice glances away from the window as much to avoid the bright light of the photographer’s magnesium flashbulbs************* as to try and protect her identity, yet there are an equal number of photographers on her fiancée’s side and she is blinded by their flashes going off.

“Bring the luggage, Perkins.” Sir John says commandingly to his chauffer as the driver turns off the engine of the Worsley after being guided across the rutted grassy open space that serves as a motor parking area for the Cricklewood aerodrome by a member of the ground crew.

“Yes Milord.” Perkins replies deferentially as he gets out of the driver’s cab and goes around to open the door for Lettice.

Clutching his Burberry and donning his black bowler hat, Sir John opens his own door and steps out onto the grass which is still wet after a recent autumnal shower.

“Sir John!” a portly reporter, perspiring from his exertions of rushing from one wealthy society passenger bound for Paris to another. “Sir John, how does it feel to finally be engaged to Miss Chetwynd after so many years of bachelorhood?”

“When’s the big day, Sir John?” another, much weedier reporter asks as he pushes his thick lens glasses up his long nose, his voice as reedy as his figure. “You and Miss Chetwynd haven’t announced it yet.”

Sir John merely grunts and pushes past the reporters forcefully with visible irritation as he walks around the back of the Worsley to Lettice’s side of the motor car.

“You are still going through with it, aren’t you, Sir John?” the scrawny reporter in glasses persists. “No cold feet, yet?”

Sir John glowers at the reporter, who smiles hopefully, only to be disappointed when the aristocrat turns his back coldly on him.

“Thank you, Perkins.” Lettice says with a smile of gratitude as he helps her out and she finds her footing, the heels of her black and white shoes sinking into the boggy earth beneath her.

“Miss Chetwynd! Miss Chetwynd!” calls one pudgy reporter as he comes running up to the car, just as Sir John reaches her side. “Miss Chetwynd,” he puffs. “Why are you going to Paris? Are you wedding frock shopping?”

“Nothing has been decided upon about my wedding frock.” Lettice replies, swatting at the portly reporter as he steps alongside her with his notepad in hand.

“Surely your friend Gerald Bruton will be designing your wedding frock, Miss Chetwynd?” the thin reporter in glasses asks hopefully as he hurries up alongside the couple.

“I just told you, a designer hasn’t been settled on yet,” Lettice replies irritably. “But when I do, they will most assuredly be British.”

“Then why are you and Sir John going to Paris then, Miss Chetwynd?” the portly reporter persists, posing his initial question to Lettice again.

“Sir John and I are going to the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes, if you must know.” Lettice exclaims in exasperation. “I’m going to see the latest styles in interior design.”

“So you intend to keep running your interior design business after you are Lady Nettleford-Hughes, then, Miss Chetwnd?” the scrawny reporter tries again.

“Don’t talk to them, Lettice my dear.” Sir John growls protectively as he looks hostilely around at the gathering pack of reporters menacing in on them as three more join the pack, including a female reporter************** in a black suit and dainty hat adorned with a lace half veil jauntily atop her head who is well known for her reports on society gossip in one of the major London tabloids, attaching themselves to the fray. He turns his attention to his chauffer. “Perkins! Bags!”

“Yes Milord.” Perkins replies.

Sir John and Lettice make their way slowly across the boggy, grassy field to the shed that serves as a booking office and waiting room for the Cricklewood Aerodrome, pursued by the pack of journalists, still calling out questions addressed to them both about their journey and their wedding plans, undaunted by the stony silence they receive in return. Behind them all, Perkins, sweating in his smart chauffer’s uniform, slowly follows, dropping further and further behind, weighed down by Sir John’s brown leather gladstone bag and Lettice’s travel de necessaire, royal blue leather portmanteau and matching hatbox as he lugs them across the wet grass towards the waiting area with its more easy to manoeuvre across flagstone floor.

Once safely within the confines of the booking hall waiting area, where the press are not permitted to enter, the pair breathe a combined sigh of relief. They stand, enjoying a sudden burst of warming sunshine on the hall’s small rear private terrace overlooking a rudimentary garden of hardy agapanthus in bloom and trimmed lawn, next to the stack of their luggage placed on the red brick floor by Perkins, who was then summarily dismissed by his employer.

“Those reporters are a menace!” grumbles Sir John, looking over his shoulder, back towards the entrance of the booking hall where the pack now clamour around a well-dressed middle-aged woman in a russet travelling outfit and pearls with peroxided blonde hair set in a stylish coiffure of marcelled waves***************, who unlike Sir John, seems to be enjoying the attention paid to her by the reporters as she answers their questions with unbridled enthusiasm. “Badgering us like that. Wedding frocks! What day are we begging married? Bah!” He turns back to his fiancée.

“Now don’t be cross, John darling.” Lettice soothes, stroking his broad shoulder calmingly. “That’s no way to start our Parisian jaunt.”

“If I had my way, I’d have them all flung out on their ears, and you and I would get married in a registry office****************, like people did during the war.”

“Oh, John darling! You can’t mean that!” Lettice exclaims. “Surely you don’t want me standing beside you in an outfit like this, rather than a lovely white wedding frock?”

“You could be standing next to me in anything, and I would be perfectly happy. I can’t abide all this fuss your mother and Clemance are making over wedding plans!” Sir John lets out a heavy sigh. When he notices the hurt look in Lettice’s eyes, he reaches out his large right hand and take’s Lettice’s dainty sage green leather glove clan left hand in it. He squeezes it consolingly. “I’m sorry my dear. Forgive me? I’m a crochety old bachelor, and a businessman set in my ways. I’m just not used to all this folderol the wedding poses.” He looks earnestly at Lettice. “Of course I want to see you walk up the aisle in a beautiful white frock, looking lovely, especially if that is something you want.”

“Well,” Lettice admits with a gentle huff. “I could do without all the ado Mater is creating with arrangements for my trousseau. I still want Gerald to design my wedding frock, and I don’t understand why she won’t countenance it.”

“Your mother has always been a contrary woman, Lettice my dear.” Sir John smiles sadly at Lettice and squeezes her hand again. “You know that better than anyone. You’ll wear her down eventually, or at least your father, and then he can wear Sadie down for you.”

“Well, let’s not think about all that now,” Lettice says with a shudder as she remembers seeing Lady Zinnia, the Duchess of Walmford and mother of her former intended Selwyn Spencely across New Bond Street***************** the day she and her mother, Lady Sadie, went to visit Madame Handley-Seymour’s fashion house******************.

In 1923, Lettice and the eldest son of the Duke and Duchess of Walmsford, Selwyn Spencely, had reached a romantic understanding between the two of them. Selwyn had organised a romantic dinner for two for he and Lettice in honour of his birthday. However, when Lettice arrived at the Savoy*******************, she was confronted not with the smiling face of her then beau, but the haughty and cruel spectre of his mother, the Duchess of Walmsford, Lady Zinnia. It was in the middle of the dining room that with a cold and calculating smile Lady Zinna announced that she had packed Selwyn off to Durban in South Africa for a year. She made a pact with her son: if he went away for a year, a year during which he agreed neither to see, nor correspond with Lettice, if he came back and still had feelings for Lettice, Lady Zinnia agreed that she would concede and would allow him to marry her. That trip turned out to be fateful, as Lettice later found out from Lady Zinnia when she was summoned to the Duchess’ Park Lane mansion and was shown a cache of photographs and newspaper clippings of Selwyn engaged to the daughter of a wealthy Kenyan diamond mine owner. It was this revelation that caused her to fall into the open and welcoming arms of Sir John.

Lettice shudders again. Smiling bravely, she suggests, “Let’s focus on the wonderful few days in Paris we have ahead of us. Is Clemance settled in at our hotel?”

“Yes,” Sir John replies. “She’s been there a few days now, and has been catching up with old friends. She’s organising a lovely autumnal picnic with some of them whom I also know whilst we are in Paris, so that you can meet them too.”

“That’s so lovely of her.”

“It is, Lettice my dear, but of course, Clemmie is very fond of you.”

The word ‘fond’ makes Lettice shiver as she remembers the conversations she has had with her fiancée over the last few months since they have been engaged, and her face clouds over. Whenever Lettice has spoken about a deeper sense of attachment towards her from him, Sir John has always cautioned her to temper her expectations of their marriage. He is fond of her, but has let Lettice know in no uncertain terms that he will not be sacrificing his romantic trysts and liaisons with other women, even once they are married. Sir John has reminded Lettice constantly that their marriage will be more of a business arrangement between two equals, than a traditional marriage, and in order to have the independence and freedom to continue running her successful interior designs business, she must be willing to make sacrifices, and the love and passion Lettice felt she was going to have with Selwyn, and was hoping to get from Sir John, is one of those sacrifices.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Lettice says, “I think Clemance misses Paris.”

“I’m sure she does, Lettice my dear,” Sir John replies with a sad tinge to his voice. “But don’t forget that it is also a place of great sorrow for her now, having lost Harrison there recently, and Emalie before the war.” He shakes his head. “She’s better off living in London where she can start a new chapter of her life, with our love and support.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right.”

“Of course I’m right, Lettice my dear.”

“I must confess,” Lettice admits. “However much I love Paris and all its attractions, it really is the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes I am looking forward to seeing this time! All those wonderful, clean and bold Art Deco designs!” She smiles with happiness. “I hope to apply some into the interior designs I create for Mrs. Hatchett, and really establish myself with a name as being at the vanguard of modern and fashionable interior design.”

“Now yes, about that, Lettice my dear,” Sir John says kindly. “Don’t forget what we agreed upon at the Savoy. A trip devoted to this exposition of yours, well, it really isn’t my thing. It’s far more yours, since you are the successful interior designer, with plans for her future career. I think Clemmie will enjoy it too. I promise that I’ll accompany you on the morning of any day you wish to devote to the exhibition, but then I’ll slip away so I can pay my own house calls in the afternoon.”

Lettice well remembers the conversation she and Sir John had at the Savoy. His proposal involved him meeting up with an old Parisian flame of his, Madeline Flanton: a French moving picture actress working for Cinégraphic********************. A single woman, whom Sir John met when she was a young actress at the Folies Bergère********************* back in the late 1890s, Mademoiselle Flanton still holds thrall over him, even if she is now considerably older than the age of his usual conquests. Determined not to lose face over this suggestion, Lettice suggested that perhaps she could meet Mademoiselle Flanton as well. Rather than balk at the idea, as she had in her heart-of-hearts hoped he might, Sir John warmed quickly to Lettice’s idea, suggesting that if they both went to Mademoiselle Flanton’s apartment for cocktails, the Parisian media wouldn’t question Sir John visiting her, and any whiff of scandal would be avoided. He suggested that after a few polite social cocktails with Mademoiselle Flanton, she and Sir John could escort Lettice out via the back entrance to her apartment into a waiting taxi to return her to the hotel that she, Sir John and Clemance have arranged to stay at, leaving Sir John to spend the rest of the night with Mademoiselle Flanton.

“Yes, I remember.” Lettice says dully as she lowers her head.

“Now, now, don’t be like that, Lettice my dear.” Sir John leans across the space between them puts his right index finger under Lettice’s lowered chin, lifting her head up, forcing her to engage his intense stare. “You’ll enjoy yourself far more with Clemance than you will with me at this exhibition of yours.”

Lettice pushes Sir John’s hand away forcefully and turns her head, gazing out across at the flowering agapanthus, her view misting over as unshed tears well in her eyes. “And you’ll enjoy yourself more without me.”

“We had this discussion at the Savoy too, I seem to recall, Lettice.” Sir John says darkly, his face clouding over as he shakes his head. “I want to catch up on some old times with certain friends – something I can’t do with a few of them, with you present. I’ve agreed not to stand in the way of your career and stymie you, which as your husband, under British law I have every right to do. So don’t you stymie my affairs.”

“Mine are business affairs.” Lettice clarifies. “And yours and my affairs, business or otherwise, are quite different, John.” she adds, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“But ours is an arrangement.” he reminds her gently. “And an arrangement requires give, as well as take, on the side of both parties involved. Perhaps love will come to us in time, but you cannot, and must not, expect it from me, for I cannot promise it you, Lettice, any more than I can promise you fidelity. Don’t ask the impossible of me.”

“I was very good about Paula Young joining us at Sylvia’s house party at ‘The Nest’, John.” Lettice retorts referring to his latest West End actress conquest, looking hurt at her fiancée.

“No you weren’t, Lettice!” Sir John laughs incredulously in response. “You were positively eaten up with jealously.”

“Well,” Lettice replies retorts, lowering her voice as she looks around the booking hall, making sure that their fellow passengers milling around near to them awaiting the London-to-Paris midday flight won’t overhear their conversation. The press outside the aerodrome calamouring about them has already drawn people’s attention to them, and more than one pair of expertly plucked eyebrows have arched inquisitively over the couple’s appearance at Cricklewood. “Do you blame me?” She lowers her voice still further. “My fiancée spending the evening in another lady’s boudoir in the same house as the one I am staying in is a little… unusual, you must confess, John.”

“Oh, come now, Lettice my dear! Don’t be naïve.” Sir John scoffs. “How many country house parties have you been to where that is exactly what happened? Dozens, I’ll wager, even if you didn’t know. Gossington for a start.” he adds, referring to the Scottish baronial Art and Crafts castle near the hamlet of Kershopefoot in Cumberland that Sir John and Lady Gladys Caxton own, where he and Lettice became reacquainted last year.

“I don’t believe that, John!” Lettice gasps. “Gladys is devoted to John.”

“John is devoted to Gladys, but not the reverse way around, believe you me. Gladys’ home is a playground of promiscuity, perpetrated and certainly permitted knowingly, and even encouraged, by her. Why I’d even wager that the same thing has even occurred under the roof of your own beloved Glynes**********************.”

“That would never have happened. Mater and Pater wouldn’t have allowed it.”

“Didn’t King Edward spend at least one night under Glynes’ roof, Lettice?”

“Several.” Lettice corrects. “On several occasions.”

“Then there you have it!” Sir John replies. “Bertie was famed for his liaisons. Even you must know that.”

Lettice blushes but doesn’t reply.

“However, going back to the whole affair of Paula at Sylvia’s,” Sir John goes on. “Admittedly, she was very naughty and catty that weekend, and she goaded you, being as predatorial as she was, so I don’t lay the blame entirely at your feet.”

“She’s jealous of me.” Lettice spits.

“She’s threatened by your presence, and yes, she is a very jealous woman, and I find that trait to be rather tiresome in anyone, especially women I am… involved with. In fact, I’m getting so bored of it that I am planning to end my liaison with her. But I don’t want that kind of jealousy from you, Lettice. I don’t need a jealous wife. It’[s why I have never married. I thought you were different.” He looks at her seriously. “Don’t make me tire of you.”

The pair fall silent for a short while, before Lettice finally breaks the lack of conversation between them.

“What will you use an excuse to tell Clemance?”

“I’ll tell her the truth; that I’m catching up on old times with a good friend. Dear Clemmie is so naïve towards the business of my liaisons that she won’t question me as to who it is. She will simply assume I am catching up with an old gentlemanly acquaintance of mine; some old friend from some club or other, or a former business partner. After all, I have spent quite a bit of time in Paris over my lifetime.” Sir John smiles mischievously as he does and winks at Lettice before his attention is snatched by something else. “Oh good!” he points into the sky of blue sky and fluffy grey and white clouds above. “Here comes our charter to Paris.”

Lettice follows his pointing finger to the sky and sees the approaching Handley Page aeroplane preparing to come in for landing at the Cricklewood aerodrome.

*The Wallace Collection is a museum in London occupying Hertford House in Manchester Square, the former townhouse of the Seymour family, Marquesses of Hertford. It is named after Sir Richard Wallace, who built the extensive collection, along with the Marquesses of Hertford, in the 18th and 19th centuries.

**Like Regent's Park, the park area of Primrose Hill was once part of a great chase, appropriated by Henry VIII. Primrose Hill, with its clear rounded skyline, was purchased from Eton College in 1841 to extend the parkland available to the poor people of north London for open air recreation. At one time Primrose Hill was a place where duels were fought and prize-fights took place. The hill has always had a somewhat lively reputation, with Mother Shipton making threatening prophesies about what would happen if the city sprawl was allowed to encroach on its boundaries. At the top of the hill is one of the six protected viewpoints in London. The summit is almost sixty-three metres above sea level and the trees are kept low so as not to obscure the view. In winter, Hampstead can be seen to the north east. The summit features a York stone edging with a William Blake inscription, it reads: “I have conversed with the spiritual sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill.”

***Cricklewood Aerodrome was one of the first in London to handle international flights. The aerodrome was built to support the Handley Page aircraft factory, which was a major aircraft manufacturer at the time. In 1925, when this story is set, Cricklewood Aerodrome was a fully functioning airfield and aircraft production center in London, primarily associated with the Handley Page company. It served as an early international airport, with a London-to-Paris air service inaugurated in 1920. The aerodrome was adjacent to the Handley Page factory, which had been established in 1912. The aerodrome closed in 1929 due to suburban development, and the Golders Green Estate was built on the site. Some of the streets where the aerodrome was bear the names of Handley Page.

****A London-to-Paris air service from Cricklewood Aerodrome, Hampstead, was inaugurated by Handley Page Transport in 1920. Fares were £18 18s return: a small fortune at the time. Each passenger was allowed 30 pounds of luggage for free and were charged accordingly for air freight for any amount over that.

*****The Lloyd Loom process was patented in 1917 by the American Marshall B. Lloyd, who twisted kraft paper around a metal wire, placed the paper threads on a loom and wove them into what was to become the traditional Lloyd Loom fabric. Lloyd Loom chairs quickly became very popular in the United States and in 1921, Marshall B. Lloyd sold the British rights to W. (William) Lusty & Sons, who used the Lloyd Loom fabric to create a range of furniture simpler in design than the American originals. William Lusty began in business in 1872 with a hardware shop in London's East End. Specialising in timber products the business benefitted from the demand for ammunition packing cases during the First World War. In May 1920 Frank Lusty sought the British rights to the new Lloyd Loom fabric, having been tipped off by Lusty's New York agent. Full patent rights were acquired in 1921 and the Lustys were in production the following year. A few years later the Lusty Lloyd Loom factory covered seventeen acres at Bromley-by-Bow in East London and employed over five hundred people making a range of products from baby carriages to kitchen cupboards. By 1933 over four hundred designs were featured in the Lusty Lloyd Loom catalogue. The factory was completely destroyed by bombing during the afternoon of the 7th of September 1940, together with over twenty thousand items of stock; there were no fatalities. The Lustys relaunched their business with a new catalogue in 1951, though post war austerity prevented them achieving the pre-war sales level. The London factory site was eventually sold and the business moved to Martley near Worcester. Production ceased in 1968. Whilst the Lusty family found other interests and pursuits Lloyd Loom production continued in the United States at Menominee until 1982. After a brief hiatus, production resumed in Menominee in 1982 after Flanders Industries purchased the Lloyd Manufacturing works there, forming the Lloyd Flanders company. Lloyd Flanders continues to make Lloyd Loom furniture in Menominee today.

******Jermyn Street is a one-way street in the St James's area of the City of Westminster in London. It is to the south of, parallel, and adjacent to Piccadilly. Jermyn Street is known as a street for high end gentlemen's clothing retailers and bespoke tailors in the West End.

*******Thomas Burberry established Burberry in Basingstoke in 1856 at just twenty-one years old, founded on the principle that clothing should be designed to protect people from the British weather. A few years later in 1879 he invented gaberdine, a breathable wearable and hardwearing fabric that revolutionised rainwear. The Burberry trench coat was invented during the First World War with epaulettes used to suspend military equipment, but in the inter-war years, with the Burberry check registered as a trademark and introduced as lining to their rainwear, it became a luxury brand for the wealthy.

********The International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts was a specialized exhibition held in Paris, from April the 29th (the day after it was inaugurated in a private ceremony by the President of France) to October the 25the, 1925. It was designed by the French government to highlight the new modern style of architecture, interior decoration, furniture, glass, jewelry and other decorative arts in Europe and throughout the world. Many ideas of the international avant-garde in the fields of architecture and applied arts were presented for the first time at the exposition. The event took place between the esplanade of Les Invalides and the entrances of the Grand Palais and Petit Palais, and on both banks of the Seine. There were fifteen thousand exhibitors from twenty different countries, and it was visited by sixteen million people during its seven-month run. The modern style presented at the exposition later became known as “Art Deco”, after the exposition's name.

*********Queen Anne’s Gate is a street in Westminster, London. Many of the buildings are Grade I listed, known for their Queen Anne architecture. Simon Bradley and Nikolaus Pevsner described the Gate’s early Eighteenth Century houses as “the best of their kind in London.” The street’s proximity to the Palace of Westminster made it a popular residential area for politicians.

**********The London constituency of Tower Hamlets includes such areas and historic towns as (roughly from west to east) Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Bethnal Green, Wapping, Shadwell, Mile End, Stepney, Limehouse, Old Ford, Bow, Bromley, Poplar, and the Isle of Dogs (with Millwall, the West India Docks, and Cubitt Town), making it a majority working class constituency in 1925 when this story is set. Tower Hamlets included some of the worst slums and societal issues of inequality and poverty in England at that time.

***********"Style Moderne," often used interchangeably with "Streamline Moderne" or "Art Moderne," is a design style that emerged in the 1930s, characterized by aerodynamic forms, horizontal lines, and smooth, rounded surfaces, often inspired by transportation and industrial design. It represents a streamlined, less ornate version of Art Deco, emphasizing functionality and sleekness. It was first shown at the Paris International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts of 1925.

************Lea and G. I. Francis started the business in Coventry in 1895. They branched out into car manufacturing in 1903 and motorcycles in 1911. Lea-Francis built cars under licence for the Singer company. In 1919, they started to build their own cars from bought-in components. From 1922, Lea-Francis formed a business relationship with Vulcan of Southport sharing manufacturing and dealers. Vulcan supplied bodies to Lea-Francis and in return received gearboxes and steering gear. Two six-cylinder Vulcan-designed and manufactured cars were marketed as Lea-Francis 14/40 and 16/60 as well as Vulcans. The association ended in 1928 when Vulcan stopped making cars. The company had a chequered history with some notable motorcycles and cars, but financial difficulties surfaced on a regular basis. The Hillfields site was abandoned in 1937 when it was sold by the receiver and a new company, under a slightly different name, moved to Much Park Street in Coventry. It survived there until 1962 when the company finally closed.

*************In the 1920s, photographers used flashbulbs, which were glass bulbs containing a magnesium filament and oxygen gas. These bulbs were a significant advancement over the earlier flash powders, offering a more contained and safer way to produce a flash of light. While flashbulbs were an improvement, they were still fragile and could only be used once.

**************Women in the United Kingdom began to enter the field of journalism in the late 19th century, initially facing challenges and limitations. While some women worked as freelance writers and contributors, it wasn't until the late 1800s and early 1900s that they began to gain recognition as full-time, professional reporters. Eliza Lynn Linton was a notable pioneer, becoming the first full-time female journalist on the payroll of the Morning Chronicle in 1848. Census records of 1861 indicate around one hundred and forty-five female journalists compared to one thousand, five hundred and twenty-five males. By 1901, the number of female journalists had swelled to one thousand, two hundred and forty-nine. The Sex Disqualification (Removal) Act allows women to join the administrative grades of the Home Civil Service, opening up further opportunities in public service and potentially journalism, so that by the mid 1920s women’s presence in journalism, particularly in society and sports reporting, continued to grow.

***************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.

****************Marrying in a registry office in the United Kingdom became an option with the Marriage Act of 1836, which came into effect on June 30, 1837. This act allowed for non-religious civil marriages to be held in register offices, offering an alternative to traditional church weddings, particularly for those who were not members of the Church of England. Prior to this act, marriages in England and Wales were primarily overseen by the Church of England, even for individuals who were not members. The 1836 Act aimed to provide a more inclusive system, recognizing civil marriage as a valid legal contract and allowing for marriages outside of religious institutions. Getting married in a registry office became particularly popular during the Great War (1914 – 1918) when couples short of time, and desperate to take advantage of the moment would eschew the formalities of a traditional wedding ceremony.

*****************New Bond Street is a prominent shopping street in London's West End, known for its upscale fashion boutiques, art galleries, and jewellery stores. It's the northern section of Bond Street, and its status as a luxury shopping destination is well-established. Bond Street links Piccadilly in the south to Oxford Street in the north. Since the Eighteenth Century the street has housed many prestigious and upmarket fashion retailers. The southern section is Old Bond Street and the longer northern section New Bond Street, a distinction not generally made in everyday usage. The street was built on fields surrounding Clarendon House on Piccadilly, which were developed by Sir Thomas Bond. It was built up in the 1720s, and by the end of the 18th century was a popular place for the upper-class residents of Mayfair to socialise. Prestigious or expensive shops were established along the street, but it declined as a centre of social activity in the 19th century, although it held its reputation as a fashionable place for retail, and is home to the auction houses Sotheby's and Bonhams (formerly Phillips) and the department store Fenwick and jeweller Tiffany's. It is one of the most expensive and sought after strips of real estate in the world.

******************Elizabeth Handley-Seymour (1867–1948) was a London-based fashion designer and court-dressmaker operating as Madame Handley-Seymour between 1910 and 1940. She is best known for creating the wedding dress worn by Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, the future Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother, for her marriage to the Duke of York, the future King George VI, in 1923; and later, Queen Elizabeth's coronation gown in 1937.

*******************The Savoy Hotel is a luxury hotel located in the Strand in the City of Westminster in central London. Built by the impresario Richard D'Oyly Carte with profits from his Gilbert and Sullivan opera productions, it opened on 6 August 1889. It was the first in the Savoy group of hotels and restaurants owned by Carte's family for over a century. The Savoy was the first hotel in Britain to introduce electric lights throughout the building, electric lifts, bathrooms in most of the lavishly furnished rooms, constant hot and cold running water and many other innovations. Carte hired César Ritz as manager and Auguste Escoffier as chef de cuisine; they established an unprecedented standard of quality in hotel service, entertainment and elegant dining, attracting royalty and other rich and powerful guests and diners. The hotel became Carte's most successful venture. Its bands, Savoy Orpheans and the Savoy Havana Band, became famous. Winston Churchill often took his cabinet to lunch at the hotel. The hotel is now managed by Fairmont Hotels and Resorts. It has been called "London's most famous hotel". It has two hundred and sixty seven guest rooms and panoramic views of the River Thames across Savoy Place and the Thames Embankment. The hotel is a Grade II listed building.

********************Cinégraphic was a French film production company founded by director Marcel L'Herbier in the 1920s. It was established following a disagreement between L'Herbier and the Gaumont Company, a major film distributor, over the film "Don Juan et Faust". Cinégraphic was involved in the production of several films, including "Don Juan et Faust" itself. Cinégraphic focused on more experimental and artistic films.

*********************The Folies Bergère is a cabaret music hall in Paris, France. Located at 32 Rue Richer in the 9th Arrondissement, the Folies Bergère was built as an opera house by the architect Plumeret. It opened in May 1869 as the Folies Trévise, with light entertainment including operettas, comic opera, popular songs, and gymnastics. It became the Folies Bergère in September 1872, named after nearby Rue Bergère. The house was at the height of its fame and popularity from the 1890s Belle Époque through the 1920s. Revues featured extravagant costumes, sets and effects, and often nude women. In 1926, Josephine Baker, an African-American expatriate singer, dancer and entertainer, caused a sensation at the Folies Bergère by dancing in a costume consisting of a skirt made of a string of artificial bananas and little else. The institution is still in business, and is still a strong symbol of French and Parisian life.

**********************Glynes is the the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie and his wife Arabella.

***********************Edward VII was King of the United Kingdom and the British Dominions, and Emperor of India, from 22 January 1901 until his death in 1910. The second child and eldest son of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Edward, nicknamed "Bertie", was related to royalty throughout Europe. Although married to Alexandra of Denmark, Edward had mistresses throughout his married life. He socialised with actress Lillie Langtry; Lady Randolph Churchill; Daisy Greville, Countess of Warwick; actress Sarah Bernhardt; noblewoman Lady Susan Vane-Tempest; singer Hortense Schneider; prostitute Giulia Beneni (known as "La Barucci"); wealthy humanitarian Agnes Keyser; and socialite Alice Keppel. At least fifty-five liaisons are conjectured.

This stack of luggage may appear real to you, but it is something different to what you might imagine, for all the pieces are made up entirely with 1:12 miniatures from my miniatures collection.

Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:

Lettice’s pretty dyed green straw cloche adorned with satin roses, green ribbons and peacock feathers is an artisan miniature. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism such as these 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 maker of this hat is unknown, but it is part of a larger collection I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.

Lettice’s crocodile skin handbag comes from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniatures in England.

The blue hatbox in the foreground on which Lettice’s hat and purse are sitting, and the portmanteau in the background are 1:12 artisan miniatures and made of blue kid leather which is so soft to the touch, and small metal handles, clasps and ornamentation. They have been purposely worn around their edges to give them age. Both pieces come from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniatures in the United Kingdom. Sir John’s gladstone bag of brown leather is also a hand-made artisan piece and comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom.

Lettice’s furled green umbrella is a 1:12 artisan pieces made of silk, with a wooden lacquered handle. It comes from specialist artisan miniature makers in England. Sir John’s silver knobbed walking stick is also a 1:12 artisan miniature. The top is sterling silver. It was made by the Little Green Workshop in England who specialise in high end, high quality miniatures.

The airline tickets sitting on top of the blue travel de necessaire I made myself using a real 1921 Handley Page Travel London-to-Paris ticket which shows the times, prices and locations of flights in both directions.

The brick footbath upon which the luggage sits a very special piece, and one of my more recent additions to my miniatures collection. Made painstakingly by hand, this was made by my very dear Flickr friend and artist Kim Hagar (www.flickr.com/photos/bkhagar_gallery/), she surprised me with this amazing piece entitled “Wall” as a Christmas gift, with the intention that I use it in my miniatures photos. Each brick has been individually cut and then worn to give texture before being stuck to the backing board and then painted. She has created several floors in the same way for some of her own miniature projects which you can see in her “In Miniature” album here: www.flickr.com/photos/bkhagar_gallery/albums/721777203007....

The setting for this scene is my rear garden, and you can see my lawn edged by a garden path and beds of agapanthus in bloom in the distance. I think it makes a splendid stand in for the gardens of Cricklewood Aerodrome, which of course no longer exists.

Taken on: January 10, 2025

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