Cynthia Grafton-Holt

I’m from a small town in the West Midlands where I was born. My parents arrived in the UK in the 1960's, part of the ‘Windrush generation’ who were invited to come to Britain where they could find work and build a better life for themselves.

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Growing up, I remember quite vividly how Saturday night was party night.  Where the women would dress like they hadn’t a care in the world.  They were the true masters of innovation and fashion on a budget.  They couldn’t afford designer labels.  They worked in the local factories and every penny went towards raising family in the UK and sending money for those who were left ‘back home’.

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Looking back fondly, I’d have to rename them the true ‘Queens of Crinoline’.  Their gowns &  frocks were beyond gorgeous.  They were ingenious at recreating copies of Dior and English royalty.  If the Queen, Princess Margaret, or Shirley Bassey wore it, so would they.  I loved their inventiveness and how they would rework their gowns to make their spending go further.  The would rip the petticoats from old dresses into strips to use for ruffling on a new design… there was nothing that couldn’t be done.  Even marbles would be covered with fabric and used as glass buttons and dresses weren’t abandoned but handed down and passed on with pride.  It didn’t matter who you were, or what size you were – none of that mattered.  What was important, was the fact that they could live their best dream life, irrespective of anything else.  These were the women who could make even ugly look beautiful.