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Liberty Tana Lawn envelope

Envelopes are rather satisfying things. In amongst the paper bits and pieces that Shelf Appeal has tucked away is this plain brown envelope, lined with Liberty fabric. It was not really intended for using, for posting. Who could bear to slick a line of Pritt Stick on this? It is more of a paper conceit.

This envelope came from the shop Merci in Paris. A trip to Paris is now never complete without a scuttle around Merci, tripping over all the linen bedding and re-contextualised wooden cutlery and ‘cheap’ plain drinking glasses. Looking for something to buy to get one of their paper carrier bags – surely the crème de la crème of paper bags, Miss Brodie?

Their stationery corner is small but beautifully formed. When I bought this, there was a Liberty v Merci thing going on, where they’d covered all manner of suitcases and notebooks and such with Liberty fabric. As is often the way, my favourite item was probably the cheapest. Because I like thin paper things or the things other things are wrapped in.

Although I have to admit, this wasn’t what most people would call cheap for an envelope I never intend to actually use. And, mad as the world is, it was probably made in China or India so that it could be retailed for a few pounds to design degenerates in Merci. The Liberty fabric is beautifully, smoothly attached to the envelope. And, for the tailors amongst you, the envelope is fully lined. No half-mast solutions here.

Simpson and Jones

Simpson Piccadilly booklet by Barbara Jones 1953

Shelf Appeal is very fond of Barbara Jones’ illustrations. And very fond indeed of the shop that was Simpson Piccadilly and its tasty advertising. What ho, then, when I found the two combined in this delicious booklet. It celebrates Simpson’s services for visitors from overseas coming to London in 1953 to see Queen Elizabeth II being crowned. For them, the booklet tells us, there is ‘a welcome particularly warm.’

Jones’ illustrations are on the cover and just inside. Her trademark scratchy lines show the Eros fountain in Piccadilly overrun with smiling people waving union jack flags and umbrellas, the whole fronted by an improbably sized yowling cat. Jones liked her cats. Inside the front cover her people and pictures form a floor map to the Simpson shop. Nothing could make my illustration antenna happier.

The photographs of the store throughout this small booklet are intriguing, showing it furnished with 1930s luxe in the form of rounded tubular furniture and lovely Ashley Havinden rugs, dating from the opening years around 1936. But also dotted about are Scandinavian influence wooden chairs, armchairs and low splay leg tables, more suitable to 1953. An unexpected post-war jumble in such a fashionable spot.

Barbara Jones had a bumper year in 1953, she designed many Coronation things and was on a Council of Industrial Design committee for helping police Coronation souvenir quality.  All of which made her an obvious choice for this Simpson booklet. I would speculate this was her only commission for Simpson. But as I didn’t know she had done this one, other treasures may yet appear.

Simpson Piccadilly illustration by Barbara Jones 1953

Charles and his ephemera

Shelf Appeal magazine April 1938

Today I get to go to my own book launch. Not something I ever thought I would be doing.

I had a lovely job this year – to look through boxes and boxes of ephemera on shelves at MoDA that was collected by a graphic designer called Charles Hasler. Charles worked in London across the war years and into the Festival of Britain. He knew many of the ‘names’ in design, worked for some and certainly received Christmas cards from most of the others.

His ephemera collection reflects a life lived in design in mid-century Britain. It also reflects his own paper obsessions – among them Notgeld paper money, Victorian lithography, sheet music and wine labels. When he wasn’t designing for clients, Charles wrote articles on his obsessions. And he wrote extensively on typography, presumably something he didn’t manage to get out of his system as chair of the Typographic Panel for the Festival of Britain.

It has been a joy to pull together the seemingly random story of the Hasler collection. Researching rare, ephemeral pieces from many of the tastiest designers of the period was something that was right up my alley and down my street. Not least because Charles collected a tasty run of Shelf Appeal magazines – the namesake of this blog.

I like writing this blog. I like writing for magazines and catalogues. I like the fact I now have hard copy.

Felt toys

Felt Toys Dryad Press book 1935

Dryad Press books are very often lovely. They appeal to the craft side of my brain. They make me want to make things.

This is the third (revised and enlarged) edition of Felt Toys, 1935. Dryad Press was an imprint of Dryad Handicrafts, which in turn belonged to the cane furniture business started in Leicester in 1907 by the juicily named Harry Hardy Peach. Peach was a design educationalist, founder member of the Design and Industries Association and all round good handicraft egg.

Dryad’s first book Simple Embroidery by Elsie Mochrie appeared in 1923. Mochrie was an embroideress trained at Leicester School of Art. Between 1923 and 1931 she wrote over 20 books for Dryad, including this one. It was co-authored by Ivy Roseaman, another Leicester School of Art graduate and Mochrie’s assistant.

The word ‘handicraft’ strikes a bit of terror in the heart of the modern craft cognoscenti. As ‘real’ craft cosies up to the art world – chasing higher prices and more column inches – so the smaller domestic side flourishes without support from anyone except Kirstie Allsopp.

Included in this book are instructions for making a ball, goose, elephant, goose girl doll, monkey and donkey. Plus two rabbits named Jane (in a gingham dress) and Jimmy (unclothed but with carrot). There is no mention of the designer of this handsome cover. Perhaps one of the Dryad authors designed it. Someone versed in lino prints or textiles. And with a steady hand to draw that title lettering.

Small picture books

English Chintz V&A book

Shelf Appeal can deny no longer the presence of at least one collection on the shelves. Of small books, booklets really, from the V&A museum in a super series called Small Picture Books, published in the main in the 1950s by HMSO.

They are of a perfect size. They are picture books of funny old collections in the V&A. They are proper curatorial connoisseurship as it once was but is no more. Except for a few surviving curators who have not been ‘let go’ from their museum yet because they are hidden in a small office on an unknown staircase in a quiet part of the museum and everyone has forgotten that they are there.

The small volume seen here is English Chintz Small Picture Book No. 22, first published in 1955, followed with this second edition of 1967. Not a big seller then. It seems to have had the same cover on both versions. A light, delicate and bright Roger Nicholson design. Nicholson has had some research and writing action over at the Quad Royal blog, Their content very often crosses over with that seen here. And as the Quads say, there isn’t a lot to find out about Mr Nicholson. He did some very nice textile designs in his time, I do know that. But no chintz that I am aware of.

English Chintz has some very nice pictures of other nice textiles in it though. In black and white of course. But still nice. The text is mercifully sparse. What there is is cumbersome enough: ‘In view of the uncertainty that has hitherto prevailed concerning the dating of English printed textiles, only those fabrics have been illustrated which could be dated exactly, or within a very narrow margin of error, by reference to precisely dated evidence such as pattern-books, excise stamps, design registration numbers, etc.

That sort of writing is not going to win any more fans for chintz. But Mr Nicholson’s cover just might tip a few design types over that way.

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