I am so thankful for the internet but oh my, has it changed our shopping habits!
The markets down The Blue, Tower Bridge Road and East Street are just shadows of their former glory. It’s all very well sitting with an iPad having the pick of the world’s goods at your fingertips but it kind of takes the magic away from Christmas.
It used to be an experience that wakened the senses, lifted the spirit.
The shops used to be packed with customers buying cards and wrapping paper, streamers, tinsel and paper hats. There was always lots of parties at home, so stocks had to be built up for when the family descended to eat, drink and be merry (or have a fight, depending on what kind background you came from…)
Choosing gifts was a delight as people looked through elegant bow-fronted windows at the goods on offer. Tower Bridge Road had some beautiful Edwardian shop fronts, some of which are still there but hidden behind the detritus of modern life.
A lot of The Blue’s very elegant shopping facades were lost during the Second World War.
But oh, the stalls! Lit up on a dark afternoon displaying all manner of goodies. Many of the goods on offer were nestled in foil that reflected the coloured fairy lights, giving everything that magic feeling. There was a certain kind of energy as people shuffled around inspecting what was on offer while the stall holders busied themselves re-stocking the display.
Everybody wanted the best for their Christmas table, so besides the unfortunate turkey the fishmongers tempted with sides of salmon and pints of prawns.
Dewhurst’s would sell out of sausages and sides of beef. Plenty of fruit and veg was essential and the stalls would be packed high with only the best from Borough Market of Covent Garden.
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Not so long ago there were still hot chestnut stalls – nibbling on these little powerhouses of goodness gave us a bit of energy before we all struggled home with oranges, potatoes, pineapples, walnuts and apples.
Of course, someone had to carry home the tree too – and the bright red poinsettia.
Flo Weller in The Blue could supply everything you need from her flower stall, which would be turned into an alpine garden for the season. The invigorating smell of fresh pine trees is the smell of Christmas!
Unlike today, kids weren’t inundated with presents and had to be happy with what they got. As recent as the 1940s many children were poverty-stricken with hand-me-down clothes and old, mended shoes. Their thin Christmas stockings would hold a tangerine wrapped in foil, walnuts, sweets and an apple.
Girls would get a rag doll or a ludo card and dice while boys received a pop-gun or a catapult to terrorise the street with on Boxing Day. Sometimes if they were really lucky they’d get a football, but more often than not had to be content with a football bladder; this was just the inside bit that they’d inflate and kick around.
Many went to church while others went to that other sacred place: the pub. Of course, some overdid the Christmas cheer, ending up sampling the delights of the police canteen as they sobered up in the cells!
Up until the 1930s charity always descended upon Bermondsey to ensure that those light of pocket had a special time.
At the Dock Offices in Lower Road the Docks Police entertained two hundred deprived kids. The children were given a huge spread, which was hungrily devoured, before being entertained with a pantomime where they sung their little hearts out. Afterwards, a dock constable dressed up as Santa Claus and distributed not just sweets and toys but also boots and socks to the ragged little waifs in his charge. Not one went home empty-handed.
In the late 1940s Bermondsey kids were treated to a Christmas entertainment at Grange Road baths. Boards were put over the swimming pool and the place was decorated with balloons and streamers. More pantomimes were put on and hundreds of kids risked a soaking as they stamped their feet to songs and competitions.
It’s a great shame that all of this has gone – but never mind, deck your halls with boughs of holly and get out your Slade record. It’s Chriiiistmassss!
Hi Debra, my late mum was born in Riley Road off Tower Bridge Road in 1925. She told me how Tower Bridge Market used to stay open late at night and kids would be able to play around the stalls which were super busy. There was more of a going out culture and close community feel in those days related to plentiful jobs, lots of boozers and of course the nearby Trocadero music hall. The beginning of the end started, I suppose, after the War with the demolition of bombed out streets along with perfectly good terrace houses and building of council estates. Everything went bit by bit, especially firms and jobs, and people were encouraged by rehousing offers to move out to Dartford and beyond. What you show in these photos was the golden age of Bermondsey, importantly, when it was also an independent local borough with its own town hall and mayor. I also think it had its own electricity supply company and round three pin plugs!