Monday, 24 October, 2023
It was almost crazy to think about doing anything during the last week in London. We were absolutely snowed under and stressed out with everything we needed to do, but we had promised each other that we would try to get away from all the work once or twice a week, even if just for an hour or two.
When Krish asked me what things I needed to do before leaving, I thought first about Liberty. And then I thought about the new Elizabeth underground line which had just opened. I didn’t want to leave without seeing it.
It’s just two stops from Liverpool Street to Tottenham Court Road, the closest station to Liberty. The Bond Street station would have worked, but it hadn’t opened yet. With more time I’d have travelled to Paddington.
The Elizabeth line opened for the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee. I was excited to see it and hadn’t wanted to go in the first week or so when everyone else would be flocking to it. Liverpool Street had a separate entrance for the line on Old Broad Street and we’d walked past and photographed it many times when it was being built so it was easy enough to find.
Once out of the station we made our way through Soho towards Carnaby Street. We were feeling nostalgic and happy to be out. The sky was a beautiful blue that day and lifted our spirits as we walked along.
Soho has been weird in the last several years. Somehow, despite the money that must have poured into the area, it’s become a little sadder and more rundown for a while. There’s a bunch of construction – the roads, some buildings – and I wonder if I will ever see it finished. The rundownness is part of its charm of course, and it’s filled with history and memories, and so I still love it and its ability to get me a bit lost no matter how many times I’ve been there. That day we were just weaving our way through past street art, chaotic popculture shopfronts and Berwick Street Market with little time to spare on our way to Liberty.
Liberty, a London luxury, is a sharp contrast to the often shabby back streets of Soho. But it also backs onto Carnaby Street and, along with the rest of the world, in 1960s London I loved any excuse to at least window shop there. Carnaby Street isn’t the untidy jumble of independent shops it used to be. Now it’s full of midrange franchises with only a touch of the bohemian and bizarre. It is a passage that feels transitional, merging beatnik Soho gently into Regent Street splendour.
Liberty is a department store in central London off Regent Street, the West End. It’s iconic and beautiful – a faux Tudor style building. When I was a teenager and able to travel into town on my own, Liberty was top of my list at Christmas time. I’d head for the basement. Down there you could find magical, gorgeous stationery and cards and wrapping paper. On the ground floor, which is overlooked by mahogany balconies each one leading to small rooms of goods, I’d buy small things but never any of the richly coloured and patterned silks. I could never afford those. Once I bought two pairs of small silver scissors and some peg dolls. Lovely things. When a friend of mine visited London and brought back a small silk Liberty print scarf for me, I gasped. I still treasure it. When my brother’s mother in law was downsizing and parting with many of her scarves, he asked me if I wanted any. ‘Anything Liberty,’ I said, without hesitation.
From the front of Liberty you can already guess you are in for something a little different. When I was younger I was fooled by its Tudor look, thinking it very old and historic. In fact, it’s about 100 years old, built in 1922. You can read about how it came to be built on the store page. Just a teaser so you can understand the abundance of wood and why it has a much older air: “. In 1922, the builders Messrs Higgs & Hill were given a lump sum of £198,000 to construct it, which they did from the timbers of two ancient ‘three-decker’ battle ships.”
Every time I go through the lobby, which reminds me of a fine hotel and often has a florist in place, it just about takes my breath away. The polished mahogany trim, balconies, and staircases throw off an air of luxury and indulgence.
There are lifts (or just one?) leading upstairs but I like walking up the stairs. It feels like I am inside a country manor but, now I know the history, a large ship or ocean liner. The upper floors have rooms leading off from the balcony, each small and housing small but lavish collections of things. That day I covered just one small section so that I could peek inside, check out the freestanding racks of designer clothing – I only once looked at the price tags and…never again – and take a photo or two looking down to the main floor.
We set off again, through the arch and over to Regent Street, down to Piccadilly Circus, bus to Tottenham Court Road and back to Liverpool Street on the Elizabeth line.
And home. When we arrived at Hackney Downs from Liverpool Street (eight minutes away) I thought, this could be the last time I’m on this platform, so I stood a minute. And it was…for this time.
I’m grateful now that I chose Liberty for ‘my last look.’ While the west end used to delight me, a special treat, it hasn’t factored into my list of things to do in London for years. Yet Liberty lingers, and I will never tire of it.
(Afterthought – I’m on catch-up here. I’ve skipped editing duties. The photos are sometimes overexposed, sometimes in too much shadow, and some are my usual slanted view (I lean). My habit is to ‘point, click, and pray.’ It suits my lopsided stance and limited ability to stand, balance, or wait around generally. The important thing is to capture the moment as it is, no excuses. Could you tell? If there are duplicates, let me know.)
