Spitalfields Market Parties Of Yesteryear
Join me for THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOUR OF SPITALFIELDS on New Year’s Day
The van drivers of the Spitalfields Market certainly knew how to throw a party, as illustrated by this magnificent collection of photographs in the possession of George Bardwell who worked in the market from 1946 until the late seventies. George explained to me how the drivers saved up all year in a Christmas Club and hired Poplar Town Hall to stage shindigs for their families at this season. Everyone got togged up and tables overflowed with sponge cakes and jam tarts, there were presents for all and entertainments galore. Then, once the tables were cleared and the children safely despatched to their beds, it was time for some adult entertainment in the form of drinks and dancing until the early hours.
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Fabulous memories captured on camera, probably the only time children experienced a party like this. Those clowns with the pointy hats always scared me witless though, and not sure it was a good idea for all the men to be smoking their fags around the children. How the world has changed since my growing up in the late 40s/early 50s.
*** MERRY CHRISTMAS! ***
*** FROHE WEIHNACHTEN! ***
*** JOYEUX NOËL! ***
Bright children’s eyes in the golden post-war era. It was a bit like that in our country. There are many photos that show me in that time, which I still remember.
A wonderful Christmas season to all readers!
Love & Peace
The unmistakable smell of burning hair. Yes, that’s the holiday spirit. It was long ago, and the Kendall family was running late, getting themselves to the yearly Holiday Pageant. On the plus side, I had a brand new holiday dress (squishy red taffeta with a full skirt and lots of frothy crinolines underneath) — and on the downside my bangs looked sad and uneven. My mother plugged in the curling iron in her bedroom, where everything was in chaos. Both parents trying to get ready, delays and disarray. You guessed it. My mother hurriedly curled my bangs with the medieval curling iron, and ………… SINGE! The awful smell of burning hair, the discouraging outcome of tight curls. We piled into the car and raced to the school. All was forgotten at the sight of twinkling lights, bales of evergreen boughs, the performance of the nativity scene, the happy carols and sing-alongs. ( I can still recall the house lights in the auditorium coming ON, and everyone in the audience singing out with gusto. Happy, boisterous, LOUD singing.)
This array of photos is your gift to us, GA. Each year I survey the endless details, the intricate stories, the presumed connections between the folks, every nuance is recorded, everything
counts. With happy, boisterous LOUD singing! Happy Holidays, all.
Wonderful memories of my dads Brooke Tool Christmas party! We would get so excited and always had new dress, socks and shoes! One year I had a new red coat with white hat and muffler! You knew you were going to have a good time with food and drink, entertainment and a present at the end! Wonderful days. Thank you for bringing that memory back to me x
I wish these photos were in a book; they’re absolutely wonderful!
What a spectacularly terrifying Father Christmas!
My dad was a miner, these photos remind me of the Christmas parties they used to have in the local Miners Welfare hall, the ‘ pit pairties ´ as we referred to them in Scotland. Sadly, I always hated having to go to them 🙁