Andy's
Barber Bottle (a sad story...)
People
find it hard to imagine that I was once a small child, but I was,
nonetheless. Once my mother could carry me up the stairs to put
me to bed.
Like
most children, I suppose, a ritual developed. Half way up the
stairs in my Grannie's house was a window with a sill, and on
the sill was a piece of Wedgwood Jasperware. (I didn't know that
then, of course.) It had a stopper which, each night, en passant,
I would remove and then replace.
Once
too often - because one night I dropped the stopper and it was
broken. Forgive me, I was a small child remember.
So
here is what I always called a Wedgwood vase!
My
Grannie had been, like many, in service for the first part of
the twentieth century. And, like many, had been given the odd
gift by her employers. This was one such. My mother says that
all of the gifts were without value, and were probably fakes anyway.
I
grew up with this thing, eventually inherited it, and always believed
that it was a fake vase. I even forgot about the stopper! The
bottom is marked WEDGWOOD and ENGLAND, but any faker would have
done that as a matter of course.
At
this point I must digress, and that is one of my greatest failings.
People get very bored with me. And it is a failing, because I
can't stop doing it...
Many
years ago I was President of the Kodak Works Photographic Society
- then an illustrious institution. (Not now though, I've just
heard it's closing down. Why would anyone in Kodak be interested
in photography? Hush my mouth.) Then, every few years Eastman
Kodak organised an International Salon of Photography, and in
my term of office the Salon came to Harrow, London.
Money
was no object, and I sat on a committee whose task was to figure
out what would be a suitable award to the best photographers.
(Those were the days!) I was a young upstart - and a photographic
scientist, rather than a marketing person. But when I explained
the connection between Wedgwood and photography, and proposed
that a special piece of Jasperware should be made for the occasion,
that was agreed. So we made an appointment and trooped along to
the main Wedgwood showroom (Wigmore Street, as I remember) to
negotiate the production of a limited edition of a black jasperware
bowl. That's not really the point - though Karen-Claire now wishes
that I had taken my bowl rather than giving it up for the greater
good.
The
point is that I took advantage by asking the Wedgwood sales people
about my vase. The response was "never heard of it".
Though you must remember that Kodak sales people have little interest
in photography. Actually, what the Wedgwood people said was that
"we don't do anything in three colours". Well, what
did I know?
Nonetheless
Karen-Claire liked the vase as much as I did, and it took pride
of place. A few years ago other pieces of green Jasperware began
to appear - and she just said "I got it at the thrift store
for a couple of quid".
Then,
only a few weeks ago, Karen-Claire discovered the wonders of ebay
- and her obsession began. Mine also. We searched the internet
and found this:
I
don't remember where this came from, I regret. Described as a
barber bottle, but was this another fake? We don't think so -
even though the colours are the other way round.
And
then another one, this time from the Wedgwood Society of Boston.
That's when my memory of the stopper returned. Yes, these remind
me of the stopper I broke.
So,
I guess what I'm looking for is another child who broke the bottle
and kept the stopper!
