I have my own "Wool Shop” memories of the one on Burton Road, West Didsbury.
I think it was owned by a brother and sister, but it was usually the lady who served us.
The shop door had a bell, and it would sometimes take quite a while for anyone to come out of the back of the shop. We would stand there very politely, and not speak or touch a thing until the proprietor appeared.
I loved the wool shop, both my mum and nana were very keen knitters and what they knitted (at the time these memories are from) was usually for me.
I wouldn't always be the wearer of what they knitted even if it was for me, because they also knitted for the whole army of dolls that I owned!
The wool shop did have a particular smell, and one that was familiar to me as the daughter of a carpet shop owner, because the smell was proper wool, not nylon stuff
Before we bought the wool, we needed the pattern. The patterns were in a whole shelf full of binders at the side of the counter.
Each pattern was in a plastic sleeve and I used to like the slapping noise that the patterns made as we flicked through them.
I remember the glass counter in the shop that was full of buttons. I had a fascination for buttons that has always stayed with me.
Even now, if you put a tin of buttons in front of me I can sit for hours looking through them. Old buttons each have their own story and I remember my Mum and Nana would reuse buttons, so if clothes were being discarded.
Then the buttons would come off and be saved for putting onto something else. I could easily be wearing a cardigan as a child with buttons that had come from one of my mum’s cardigans when she was the same age.
Actually buying new buttons was a rare treat, but if we were buying buttons as well as wool then we would select them through the glass counter as if they were jewels, and the wooden tray would then be slid out from the counter for the buttons to be more closely inspected.
I remember some really fancy little buttons, lambs, bunches of roses and even some that were shaped like little post boxes that went on one of my brothers cardigans in the 1970s.
To my shame I must report that, when I was very small, most if the buttons on my clothes were the size of saucers.
This was because of one attempt by me, witnessed by my nana, to shove a stray button up my nose. It took years for me to win back that trust! I have a very early photo of me, trying to escape from Santa's knee at Lewis' - the buttons tell their own tale!
© Sally Dervan
Pictures; from the collection of Sally Dervan and Nos 238-240 Burton Road, 1962, J F Harris, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, m09736, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass
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| The buuton tin |
The shop door had a bell, and it would sometimes take quite a while for anyone to come out of the back of the shop. We would stand there very politely, and not speak or touch a thing until the proprietor appeared.
I loved the wool shop, both my mum and nana were very keen knitters and what they knitted (at the time these memories are from) was usually for me.
I wouldn't always be the wearer of what they knitted even if it was for me, because they also knitted for the whole army of dolls that I owned!
The wool shop did have a particular smell, and one that was familiar to me as the daughter of a carpet shop owner, because the smell was proper wool, not nylon stuff
 |
| On Burton Road |
Each pattern was in a plastic sleeve and I used to like the slapping noise that the patterns made as we flicked through them.
I remember the glass counter in the shop that was full of buttons. I had a fascination for buttons that has always stayed with me.
Even now, if you put a tin of buttons in front of me I can sit for hours looking through them. Old buttons each have their own story and I remember my Mum and Nana would reuse buttons, so if clothes were being discarded.
Then the buttons would come off and be saved for putting onto something else. I could easily be wearing a cardigan as a child with buttons that had come from one of my mum’s cardigans when she was the same age.
 |
| A young Sally with buttons and Father Christmas |
I remember some really fancy little buttons, lambs, bunches of roses and even some that were shaped like little post boxes that went on one of my brothers cardigans in the 1970s.
To my shame I must report that, when I was very small, most if the buttons on my clothes were the size of saucers.
This was because of one attempt by me, witnessed by my nana, to shove a stray button up my nose. It took years for me to win back that trust! I have a very early photo of me, trying to escape from Santa's knee at Lewis' - the buttons tell their own tale!
© Sally Dervan
Pictures; from the collection of Sally Dervan and Nos 238-240 Burton Road, 1962, J F Harris, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, m09736, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass
The Wool Shop was owned by the 'Kellets'. I went to school with the son. I think he was called Ian Kellet. The Wool Shop is between Hibberts the Butchers and Philips the jewellers.
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