I cannot believe it was more than a month ago that I last posted an entry. How time flies when you have deadlines to meet and wedding memorabilia to collect (more on this once the Collections Committee has had its say in a few weeks’ time). While trying to find a new home for an Alice band type thing, I took out our hair box (don’t ask) and while it turned out not to be the right place for the Alice band type thing I rediscovered this most fabulous object (apologies for the polystyrene head, will try to do better […]
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The story of London Tweed
So this is how the story goes. In 1826 a London merchant decides to buy some cloth from a weaver in Hawick, a town in the Scottish borders famous for its cloth production. Very happy with his order, he decides to get some more but – crucially – misreads the weaver’s dashed handwriting. Instead of ‘twill’ this Londoner reads ‘tweed’, and assumes this new cloth must take after the River Tweed which runs fast and clear through the textile areas of lower Scotland. ‘Tweed’ and not ’twill’ has been the term used ever since.
A few weeks ago I found myself surrounded by fascists. I was on my way to the West End when at Tower Hill station a large group of French-speaking men with assorted girlfriends and wives (I presume) entered my tube carriage.
A starring role for the Suffragette collection
As curator of the museum’s wonderful Suffragette collection I often welcome ‘important’ visitors to the archive, captivated by the story of the women who endured imprisonment, hunger-strike and even force-feeding in their battle to win the vote.