As I watch the Queen’s funeral in the background and the women in their particular head-gear, I am reminded of my neighbor in the Holloway neighborhood of London. I was quite new in town and needed to escape a nasty living situation. I was offered a sublet in a converted church on Chillingworth Street. The former church had been painted black in contrast to its white columns, and two stories of flats were built on its top. The main church area was divided into artist studios. My apartment was two rooms on two stories – one up and one down. I lived there alone, except for large chunks of one year when I shared it with my chosen niece Oona who came over as she turned 21 from Vermont.
Down the hall was a brilliant Black gay milliner who designed fascinators and hats, one-of-a-kind confections that were worn by women at formal events, most famously the Royal Ascot, a British racecourse which has high-falutin’ events. My neighbor was a freelancer, struggling for customers, and all the time turning out magnificent hats to order. For a visual of this genre, I have featured some examples of such items that Meghan Markel has worn since her marriage, as she frames them so well.
Before I found this apartment, I had lived on my arrival to London for several months in a moldy, smelly bedsit – that is, a poor person’s version of a studio apartment, a bed, a dresser, and a hot plate. The bathroom was down the hall. It was in the Hackney home of a “friend” and her dreadful partner, a coarse man who persisted in opening the bathroom door whenever I was sitting on the toilet. Not once, not twice, but repeatedly. They refused to put a lock on the door, her the pathetic enabler and him the sleaze-ball.
So when someone introduced me to the Canadian woman who wanted to sublet her flat in the Holloway converted church while she returned to Canada, I was hugely relieved. I lived there for a couple of years until my milliner neighbor, who had become my friend, warned me that an inspection was coming. Inspection? Yes, all this time I had been staying in a Housing Association apartment, low-income housing that my “landlady” had managed to qualify for despite her actually being a professional of some wealth. Of course I have seen parasites who have the resources to get themselves benefits intended for people without resources. Governmental institutions often make the process of obtaining these benefits so laborious and convoluted that it is the folks who hire lawyers and experts who score them. Ask any American who has applied for disability benefits.
And to top it all off, my “landlady” was charging me market rent, about twice what she herself was paying to the Housing Association, not only ripping them off, but ripping me off in the process. And now, back to the ornate, dour, and regimented spectacle of the Queen’s funeral, as the procession heads from London to Windsor Castle, where I was once, by the way, a keynote speaker at a European Union conference on volunteerism.
Despite many mixed feelings about the Monarchy, I couldn't help but be moved by the complete funeral ceremony and the people and commentary of folks looking on. I personally, do own a fascinator. I wore it to go shopping once on Election Day, and again I don't quite remember when. Like you, Sue, I also lived in England for a time, working as a reporter about 50 miles outside London. I was assigned to go to another reporter's house to watch and comment upon Princess Anne's first wedding. The year was about 1973 I think. However, I WAS cautioned that while I could write all of my reflections on the day, I was not, under any circumstances, to criticise the Monarchy. And I didn't.
Posted by: Sue Kelman | 19 September 2022 at 14:44
Remembering that flat well Sue. I've just sent you a private rant after watching the royal funeral which I too had going both in the background - and sometimes full on - for far too much of the day. The many republicans or just people who don't give a damn about the royal family - any of them - didn't exist. Frustrating to see 'the nation' represented as prostrate with grief. Let's not mention the, er, king. But of course he will be mentioned and I will end up shrieking loudly at the TV screen. God save my voice ha ha.
Posted by: Sue O'Sullivan | 19 September 2022 at 14:50
Sue Kelman, I bet you carry off a fascinator with real style! They're weird and interesting.
And Sue O, you and I are as one about the royal family.
Thanks to you both for reading the blog.
Posted by: Sue Katz | 19 September 2022 at 15:10
I'm not sure I should comment -- my name's not Sue!
Funnily enough I was in this part of London yesterday. My niece is renting a fancy-schmancy apartment overlooking the new stadium. You wouldn't recognise that bit, but thankfully much of Georgian Holloway survives. I hope your church apartment does too, although if it does, these days it's probably an Airbnb...
Posted by: Marj | 28 September 2022 at 20:45
Fancy-schmancy in Holloway?!? Of course I say the same thing about Dalston/Hackney. No, I wouldn't recognise it.
Posted by: Sue Katz | 28 September 2022 at 22:02