From Kitchen table to the Victoria and Albert Museum, this is how 'Specially For You' was born 30 years ago and went on to become what is now Julian Mary & Me

Before moving to Sussex, I ran a ‘home to home’ children’s clothing business in London, designing, fitting and making bespoke outfits. 

The intention was to help parents avoid the struggle persuading tiny, wriggling protestors into ready-made outfits in unsympathetic shops. 

I bought fabrics from friendly stallholders at the North End Road Market and, when flush, would take a trip to Regent Street for Liberty prints. Along with the usual pinafores and dungarees, there was always a demand for demure little smocked dresses for defiant tomboys. 

I had learned how to smock and embroider at the Catholic convent boarding school, where I spent four miserable years as an unhappy teenager; I found sewing an absorbing solace. I left school at sixteen with three O-levels and had no tertiary education or background training. 

I married in November 1974 and for the following two and a half years lived in London. 

The move to Sussex was in 1977, and when pregnant with my first son Daniel I made baby clothes for him. He was born two months prematurely in April 1978 but did not survive. Grief was crippling and creativity desiccated. 

My second son Joseph was born November 6th, 1979. 

I fell in love with my baby; he was a gentle, sweet-natured child. Motherhood was everything, the domesticity and longed for role came easily and, when time permitted, I made outfits for Joseph and comfy clothing for myself. 

In early 1982, inspired by a traditional Round Smock seen at the Victoria & Albert Museum, London, I decided to try my hand at making a more contemporary version, whilst keeping the charm and artistry of the original. There was something about the practicality and decorative utilitarianism of this working garment that really appealed. 

I created a button-fronted smock, worn as a dress or coat, and also a children’s version identical to the adult one, which could be used as a dress or overall, worn over trousers. It had deep panels of smocking below front and back yokes and above the cuff of the long sleeves; two patch pockets and a large collar were embroidered with feather stitching. 

The whole effect was astonishingly harmonious, practical and comfortable. Keen to get an opinion and, having heard that the people in the know were the fashion editors on the national newspapers, up to London I went. With no prior appointment or knowledge of how journalists operated, I turned up at the Guardian to be told five minutes with the editor would be allowed... two days later a small drawing of my smock featured in the newspaper. 

So, with one ancient sewing machine, a paper pattern and, as an outcome of the article, a post-box full of orders, help was needed and more importantly, a decision to face the tasks of running a business. 

Within two weeks I had acquired my first pleating machine, an ingenious hand- cranked gadget made in South Africa; this enabled the time-consuming preparation prior to hand smocking to be done in a fraction of the time. 

I advertised for help: that resulted in taking on five women, four skilled at smocking and one machinist. 

The integrity of my designs came from a simple code – no compromise on quality, to only use natural fabrics, respect tradition and follow your own ideas. 

After the success of the first smock, I worked on further designs, including skirts and trousers. 

With no formal training or prescriptive constraints imposed by institutionalism, my optimism and unwary ‘have a go’ attitude saw me through those early days. 

1982 brought the first, pretty basic mail order brochure, with drawings done by me. 

By year end I had eight outworkers. The smocking was piecework, with each garment having a unique sequence of patterns invented by the stitcher; I wanted authenticity to shine through and the women to own their creativity. Two skilled machinists assembled the garments. 

Further publicity followed in national and local newspapers, (Telegraph, Times, Mail on Sunday, Sussex Express etc) high-end magazines (Vogue, Telegraph Colour Supplement etc) Two major pieces pushed the business into the public eye – Harpers & Queen did a photo shoot at my home with a cover and full-page spread and Country Life featured a three-page article and profile. Joseph modelled the children’s smocks. 

Initial hurdles associated with both family life and the business were complex, a shift in marital dynamics came with the realisation this would be a changing point. I had to structure my time so caring for Joseph could take priority and learn how to put my work to one side, giving dedicated time to family and friends. I needed to create a space of my own so working from home was separated from my personal life. 

Understanding how to find, interview and employ people was completely new to me. Learning about delegating, clarity of expectations and financial remuneration for employees followed on from this. 

Pricing, accounts and costings was another area where I held little experience, every step was very demanding. 

The storage of long rolls of fabric and the rapidly growing amount of dressmaking paraphernalia was hard to accommodate. Displaying the finished items was tricky and finding a discreet place for trying on garments meant a degree of inhibition from the customers. 

Social events, parties and previews were always daunting as I found crowds of people uncomfortable to be amongst. 

Despite this, in the very early stages of the business, there were many challenges that I found thoroughly enjoyable and rewarding. 

It was engrossing spending time researching the history and origins of the smock and searching for supplies of beautiful fabrics and unusual haberdashery came naturally and fed the core part of my creativity. 

I loved building relationships with the outworkers, mutual respect came easily. 

I had no end of new designs and ideas, it became more about restraint and pacing myself – delayed gratification did not come easily to me. Being self- taught, when it came to pattern cutting, so long as I gave the process time, my method of trial and error made it rather exciting. 

Speaking to the press and marketing the brand, coping with the waves of publicity and the surge in orders was thrilling and gave me a real sense of the business growing. 

Further designs and choice of fabrics were added to the range, including the ‘Barham Smock’, an adaptation of the Sussex Smock that gave a quintessential link to the garment's historical roots and was perhaps the essence of my work. 

The original Sussex Round Smock or ‘Frock’ was a working garment constructed from a series of rectangular pieces of cloth, enabling simple assembly and no waste of carefully woven fabric. Large panels of smocking lay front, back and at the head of the sleeve, giving volume and thickness for warmth and comfort. The smock had no identifiable back or front so could be worn either way round to save on wear. 

The Barham Round Smock was constructed in exactly the same way as its rural predecessor, though instead of course, stiff home-spun fabric we used natural, softly draping, silk noil. As the seamstresses of the house would have done, I drafted my own personal pattern entwined into the copious surface embroidery. Within the design the letter ‘B’ was prominent, representing the hamlet I lived in: ‘Barham’. It was also a shape that could be adapted into a heart, the ingredient I put into my work – symbolism and narrative have always been important to me. Hand-made ‘Dorset Wheels’ set off the centre of the collar and secured the cuffs. These decorative buttons were produced prior to machine-made fastenings, blanket stitching was worked around a small brass ring with the thread used for smocking, with most of the infill achieved by a process called ‘laying’ & ‘rounding.’ 

Working from home, and with growing renown, brought domestic challenge, but generally practical problems were overcome as best as could be managed. Parenting wove its way into daily life: I set up a toddlers’ group at home, overseen by another mother so Joseph could remain close by. Accommodating customers in a family environment was interesting, with most tolerating children, dogs, chickens etc. 

The weekly drop-off and pick up from outworkers worked smoothly. As well as the daily running of the business, office work and looking after visitors, I also did a generous proportion of the hand smocking and machine work. The original brochure was replaced with a more comprehensive, attractive version. 

I was pleased to become a member of The Guild of Sussex Craftsmen (founded in 1973 and later known as The Sussex Guild). This opened multiple opportunities to show my work at events and get to know a group of talented makers and crafters. I really enjoyed identifying with likeminded people and understanding their wonderful skills. 

The flow of interest and publicity continued to accelerate (Sunday Express, Mail on Sunday, Telegraph, Daily Express, Vogue, Country Life, The Field, Country Living, Sussex Life, Woman’s Journal, Farmers Weekly...) 

During the time I ran my business, the success of press coverage was entirely down to the effort put into communicating with the feature editors. The skill lay in presenting a press release in a comprehensive and appealing format, with accompanying photographs. Printed brochures and promotional leaflets were essential to sales and enquiries, each step of PR and marketing took hours and involved many steps. Much of this strategy became a forgotten art once the ease of the internet and power of social media took over after the shop closed. The extent of exposure my business achieved was rather remarkable. 

My smocks were shown at the Paris, Milan and London Fashion Shows alongside clothing designed by Ally Capellino for the ‘Spring 1983 Look’. This was not an entirely comfortable experience, as I was unprepared for the attitude from London designers, who considered themselves superior to an enthusiastic smock maker from rural Sussex. But a good learning curve! 

I was asked to appear on BBC Pebble Mill at One, an extremely popular consumer program and my first experience of live television - The topic was ‘how the rural smock has become high fashion’; to make a convincing go of things the studio set was portrayed as a farm, with pretty models dressed in the smocks sitting on hay-bales and live goats wandering around. The interview was spontaneous, as was one of the goats who had a wee on stage! 

TVS invited me to an outside live broadcast in Caversham, Berkshire with Una Stubbs; they wanted Joseph to appear with me. Una was warm and encouraging with him and bought one of the Barham smocks. 

Radio broadcasts were numerous, coinciding with press coverage, or at shows I attended. 

The live talks I was requested to speak at were my least confident experience (Young Farmers, Women’s Institute, NADFAS). I was not comfortable with an invited audience and their expectations. Nonetheless, with the warm welcome I received, I usually managed to overcome my nerves. 

Towards the end of 1984, I decided to move my work away from home. It had become increasingly difficult to contain the burgeoning business within a domestic environment. 

To pre-empt the relocation, we developed an updated brochure with new designs and rather romantic drawings by Paddi Mobbs, daughter of the architect who helped with the conversion of what was going to be the new showcase for my business. 

Warnham Cottage, East Hoathly became the new home for my work. Extensive renovations took around four months, turning it into what I had dreamt of. 

This pretty wisteria-covered weatherboarded cottage had formerly been a rather run-down sweet shop and off-licence with accommodation above. I took on the licence as I wished to stock English wine, so fortunately change of use was not a problem. 

The new shop opened on 14th September 1985. The village had been intrigued and somewhat puzzled at what might take place in the property; any changes in a small community needed sensitivity and transparency. I was given enthusiastic encouragement, especially as I would be employing local people, though it did take a bit of time for my concept to be understood. 

The aim was to have a living workshop, where all stages of creation could be seen, a range of my designs available and a bespoke service offered. 

The shop had a main workroom with a specially customised cutting table, racking, fabric bins and display units, all made by a local joiner; the conversion was managed by Hamish Reid, a creative though volatile architect friend. A number of artists were commissioned to make or supply unusual items: mugs with our logo, paintings of the wildflower Lady’s Smock, rag dolls wearing scaled-down smocks, silk scarves, jewellery and an evolving selection of other interesting items. 

The renowned tile designer Peggy Angus and maker Diana Hall created a floor in one of the rooms and a frieze outside the shop depicting a shepherd in a smock with a flock of sheep. Two wooden plaques carved by local postman Mick, replicating the tiles, were placed above the large shop window. 

I wanted to stimulate the visitors’ curiosity and give an insight into the making of the smocks, with the clothes displayed as if it were an irresistible grown-up dressing-up box. 

By now the reputation of the business had grown and customer demographic bought notoriety. The team of outworkers increased to twenty, with two full- time staff in the shop. 

Commissions for weddings, television and film costumes, and private collections were a regular occurrence, whist designs grew bolder, with swathes of smocking adding volume and drama to contemporary shapes. An extensive range of fabrics were used, from soft cotton lawns, slinky silk satin, velvet, dupion and natural noils. A kaleidoscope of colours was introduced and intricate bead work, giving exquisite detail and texture, was incorporated into the stitching. 

I took on two USA contacts who were charged to organise a sales/promotional trip to USA in April 1985: New York – Chicago – Los Angeles – San Francisco – Volcano (a historical landmark town in California). 

The range was presented to buyers in all four cities. I was given a personal introduction to Agnes DeMille, daughter of the film director Cecil B. DeMille; she became a customer until the close of my business in 1995. 

I also made a special guest appearance at a state-funded heritage weekend at Volcano, California. This gold rush settlement consisted of a tiny but proud population, who maintained the reputation of the once-booming town. It was a memorable visit for me and one that reinforced a bond that links the global community of creatives. 

The trip to USA did not make a great deal of overall difference, other than positive marketing opportunities for the business and happy memories. There was a feature in Women’s Wear Daily and the Chicago Tribune, orders from a shop in Chicago, another in Illinois and a children’s boutique in LA. Regardless of promising interest, cost conversion constraints prevented further wholesale orders. 

Back at base, my day-to-day role in the workroom was to cut and collate the pieces for each garment, pleat the fabric prior to smocking and prepare panels for embroidery. There was a weekly turnaround of smocking being returned to the shop by my outworkers and the machinist receiving the pattern pieces to assemble. I would visit the outworkers, collect finished garments and bring them back to the shop. 

Most days bought visitors to the shop: people who had heard or read about our enterprise, curious passers-by, or customers collecting their orders. As much as great care had been taken to create each piece, so attentive regard was needed towards purchasers. 

Running the business demanded immense personal flexibility; I was aware that at the time it was still considered headstrong for a married woman to want to follow her creativity: the status quo in many relationships was to gratefully accept dependency and be financially beholden. To understand this fully, it is only fair to recognise the era, social constraints and context. 

While acknowledging the tolerance given by many and their validating support, the importance I gave to my work and the time it required unfortunately created resentment. My headstrong personality caused friction, it was not long before both the delights and demands that came with the business had a debilitating, detrimental effect on my personal relationship, bringing secret bouts of extreme sadness and isolation to me and undoubted frustration to others. 

For the following five years, the shop’s reputation grew, with a continuous stream of publicity in major newspapers and magazines. Television and radio appearances came regularly, and I was often asked to demonstrate my craft. We promoted new designs at a number of fashion shows in Sussex venues (East Sussex National Golf Club, St Georges Vineyard, Crockstead Farm Hotel, etc). 

Carefully chosen high-end events were part of the sales and marketing thrust; I enjoyed these, the places they took me to and how I could be incognito and receptive to uncensored, honest comments about my work. The Royal Show, The Chelsea Craft Show, The Game Fair, Badminton Horse Trials, Country Living Fairs, Smith’s Lawn Polo Ground and the exhibitions put on by The Guild of Sussex Craftsmen were amongst the shows I attended. 

One year, attending The Chelsea Craft Show, I met comedian and television personality Billy Connolly; thinking I looked rather fetching in a demure long cream smock, we greeted each other: me with a smile and Billy a classic comment ‘Ghost clothes I presume?!’ 

From 1983 to 1992 I attended the top showcase for artists, craftsmen and makers from all over the world: Art in Action at Waterperry House, Oxfordshire, both as an invited guest artist and exhibitor in the craft section. 

In 1988, I was an attendee-exhibitor in the first Country Living marquee at the Royal Show, Stoneliegh, Warwickshire. I had collaborated with the magazine, who commissioned me to design a pattern that readers could send for and have a go at making their own smock. The dress was a pared-down version of a traditional smock with contemporary elements. 

Logistics of transporting beautiful clothing and display paraphernalia to events led to the decision to buy a high-top transit, tomato-red with very smart branding on the side – I had learned to drive in a camper van, so navigating a commercial vehicle came easily and added to the adventure. 

The children’s range of cream calico smocks were stocked at Liberty of London, with one of their windows displaying the designs. As would be expected from this world-acclaimed shop, the tableau was enchanting. 

In 1986 we sent a smocked silk wrap blouse to the actor Joan Collins, a design which always appealed to the seductive. Joan sent me a letter, saying she was going to try and wear it on the cult TV programme Dynasty. 

The newly renovated Candle and Needlemakers in Lewes gave an opportunity to take a tiny unit on a monthly renewal rent, to display a selection of designs. I opened for two days a week, but found after a year it stretched my time too much. 

In February of that year, for a Valentine treat and to excite the gentle reputation smocking had, we made a smocked silk satin garter. I remember certain members of the Guild of Sussex Craftsmen being rather shocked by the sexy photograph that was picked up and published by appropriate newspapers. 

The main body of photographs used for our brochure, press releases and archives were taken by my friend Anthony Penrose. His skills with a camera and relaxed way with the models made shoots an absolute pleasure. Tony was immersed in photography, having recently started archiving the life of his mother Lee Miller – model, war correspondent, photographer and muse of Man Ray. Lee’s courage against adversity and injustice was legendary and inspiring. 

In June 1987 I exhibited with the Guild of Sussex Craftsmen at the South of England Show, Ardingly, where Princess Michael of Kent visited my stand, bought a Barham Smock and ordered a smocked nightdress. Such public recognition from an influential, stylish member of the royal family, and the subsequent press coverage, was extremely helpful to the business's reputation. 

Customer demographic was extensive and varied; it was extremely rewarding that my designs appealed to such a wide audience and across generations. 

People of notoriety who bought my work included the actors Dame Judy Dench, Joan Collins and Una Stubbs, singer and entertainer Dame Vera Lynn (‘The Forces’ Sweetheart’), dancer & choreographer Agnes DeMille, socialite Pamela (‘Bubbles’) Rothermere, writer and natural birth activist Sheila Kitzinger, potter Ursula Mommins, singer & English folk song revivalist Shirley Collins, artist Christiane Kubrick and HRH Princess Michael of Kent. 

Our reputation for beautifully visual clothes and the romance of the working smock meant we were often asked to make wedding outfits, be it for the bride or her attendants, with boys as well as girls dressed in smocked finery; inevitably, new smaller customers then arrived, and we were asked to make christening clothes. 

Commissions for replicas of working smocks came from television and film productions needing historically accurate outfits. 

The Sussex Bonfire tradition is a world-renowned form of local protests, under the motto ‘We Burn for Good’. We kitted out members of the Hailsham Bonfire Society, the traditional dress of the society being shepherd's smocks. 

Another enjoyable community commission was to make twelve little smocks to dress a troupe of shepherds for the parish's nativity play, particularly enchanting as Joseph was one of them. 

The ubiquitous story told through clothing, weaving a narrative across centuries and consecutive generations, fascinated me. I had a battered ex- library book on ‘costumes through the ages’; this engrossing compendium stirred my imagination and enriched many of my designs. 

I generally managed to balance family life, with Joseph happy to be with me in the shop pottering about and chattering to visitors; he was uninhibited when it came to being photographed, appearing in many major publications and some of the televised interviews. There was not an option to have domestic help other than a part-time cleaner, so it was very hard work keeping everything buoyant. When at events, a lot of pre-planning was needed; friends were generous and kind and had Joseph to play while his father filled in the gaps. 

On June 27th 1989 Jamie was born: ten years between my beloved boys bought utter delight for Joseph to have a longed-for brother, and myself an exquisite joy. 

Jamie was an extremely contented baby, happy to snooze in a carry cot or bounce about in a portable rocker while I got on with my work. The team adored having a baby around and the customers were generally generous with their affection. 

As a toddler he loved spending time in the shop and would hide in the bins of fabric and explore the attic, full of props and show equipment. 

Over the following three years Jamie was a willing model for photo shoots and twice a page, wearing bespoke smocked outfits at family weddings. 

I was by now aware that my ideas were being picked up by others: Miss Selfridges bought out a pretty average machine-smocked blouse, emulating one of my designs, and Cloth Kits, Lewes a kit form smock with printed smocking motifs. 

What turned out to be the final brochure was produced around 1991; the way the clothes were presented had evolved from the simple hand drawn folder of 1981 to a fifty-six-page booklet. 

Fashion in the 80s and early 90s included power dressing – abundance, shoulder pads and drama; the trick of smocking was about restriction and fullness, and I put these two qualities to use in blouses, jackets and skirts. Tops were embellished with epaulettes of smocking while skirts restricted by clinching in the waist with stretchy smocking. The shop offered a wide selection of accessories – stitched cummerbunds, small quilted bags, covered buttons and reversible silk waistcoats. 

One of the final designs I created was an ankle-length skirt made from wedge- shaped panels of silk dupion – when the wearer sat on the floor it created a full circle. The ‘wedges’ comprised of shaded colour like a painter's palette or mixes of bold tartan, each one separated by thin bands of barber's pole braid. This elegant, eye-catching piece became one of the most desirable garments in the range and an addition to several magazine articles. 

The first Country Living Fair at The Business Design Centre, Islington came in 1992. The magnificent building had once been an agricultural hall, used for selling livestock, and was a fitting venue. The magazine revolutionised the idea of rural living, celebrating the countryside, its pursuits and crafts, though often painting it as a bucolic idyl – they loved the ethos of my enterprise. 

The event was a resounding success and for the following two years became an annual showcase for the smocks. 

Shortly after the Country Living Fair, when returning from the outworkers, I had a car accident. While being taken by ambulance to the hospital my bag and all the garments I had picked up were stolen from the van. A week later, in the early hours of the morning, the shop was broken into and thousands of pounds worth of stock taken. Within a week of the burglary a passerby came into the workroom, confronted me and took my wallet. 

The police concluded that the first two events were connected whilst the third was bad luck. 

There were two television broadcasts that year which sealed the business’s reputation. Granada TV’s This Morning ‘Makers’, where I was interviewed in their studious, and BBC ‘Country Ways’ who came to Warnham Cottage to film a delightful insight into my business. Jamie participated in the programme, his appearance on prime-time television delighting his friends at school the following day. 

1993 brought a guest appearance at a trade show in Utrecht, Netherlands representing attractions and rural traditions in south-east England. The Dutch were immensely hospitable and intrigued by my interpretation of English working garments. 

Much to my delight and amazement, The Victoria and Albert Museum requested two smocks for the National Archives, one being the design that would in two years' time be chosen for a major five-month exhibition at the museum: ‘The Cutting Edge – 50 years of British Fashion 1947–1997.’ 

I was also included in the 1993 edition of ‘The Best of British Women’ and ‘Classic Crafts – A Practical Compendium of Traditional Skills’ published by Conrad Octopus. 

Midway through 1993, as personal problems accelerated, I had a cancer scare and operation; my stay in hospital focused me on the necessary re-evaluation of what lay ahead to cope with. 

By 1994 the future looked bleak, as married life became extremely complicated. By the end the year, despite the trajectory the business was on, it was apparent my enterprise would not survive the turmoil; all my time and energies were needed to nurture my children and adapt to inevitable changes. 

In 1995 Warnham Cottage was put on the market, unfortunately no other option was on offer. It sold later that year to a couple who would go on to turn it into their home. 

Breaking the news to my outworkers and shop staff that the workshop would be disbanded, and staff made redundant, was raw and emotional. I had got to know the team extremely well, as they had me; for many it was not just their livelihoods but a real love of creating that they lost, and inevitably the fading of friendships. We had worked as such a harmonious team, each a splendid person with individual skills and a willingness to heed others. There was a unanimous and generous heartfelt wish from them all that my life would bring peace and happiness. 

I went on to find a job at Jamie’s junior school, a role that involved creativity with the children; it was a supportive environment with very caring people. 

‘The Cutting Edge 50 years of British Fashion 1947–1997’ at The Victoria and Albert Museum ran from 6th March to 27th July 1997 – my story had gone full circle, from gazing at the smocks that inspired me twelve years ago, to one designed and made by me being exhibited in the very same museum! 

Excerpt from ‘The Cutting Edge’ flier: 

‘British fashion is enjoying an exciting renaissance. In the first ever exhibition of its kind The Cutting Edge: Fifty Years of British Fashion, sponsored by Mulberry, uncovers a rich seam of spectacular creativity by British designers. What are the secrets of its success and its distinctiveness? Is it the art school training of young designers, the idiosyncratic British character, the Social Season, or perhaps the weather? 

Tracing the history of high fashion from the austere post-war period to the present day, the exhibition spans the shift from haute couture to ready-to-wear. It explores the ‘Britishness’ of British fashion – a fascinating tension between tradition and innovation, respectability and iconoclasm. 

Drawn from the V&A’s unique collection, including many pieces never before displayed at the museum, the show features 250 garments and accessories by leading and lesser-known talents. It unveils elegant evening wear alongside strict tailoring, ethereal painted silks and robust country wear highlighting four themes consistently present in post-war British fashion. 

Themes: – Romantic-Tailoring- Bohemian- Country.’
My dress was chosen to be part of a major feature on the show in the Sunday 

Telegraph Magazine, February 1997 

The exhibition coincided with the finalisation of what had been a gruelling and protracted two years of personal challenges and changes; the way I managed to get through was to shut down everything except my parenting – creativity was mute. I could only cope with visiting the exhibition by myself one quiet weekday in April – I was not capable of celebrating my achievements. 

I remember standing near my smock in a twilight-dark room surrounded by garments designed by 20th-century luminaries. I stayed long enough to absorb the frank whispers of onlookers: ‘... not sure you could wear that to the shops...’, ‘exquisite...’, ‘How did he make it?’. 

The floor-length dress was a bit of a showstopper, a sumptuous combination of white silk satin and ivory dupion, heavily encrusted with smocking, highlighted by beadwork and ribbons – ironically, in their catalogue the V&A chose to interpret the design as a wedding dress. 

Gallery label from the exhibition: 

‘The design of this wedding dress was informed by rural smocks and the square-cut of ethnographic clothing. The beadwork and pendants suspended from fine ribbon were designed to harmonise with the Chinese and Indian cream-coloured silks.’ 

Over the years since closing my business, I have been contacted by many smock supporters asking if I was still making, retrospective interest in my work is growing, with the desire to own an original a driving force from worldwide collectors, archivists, young creatives and high-end vintage shops. 

More and more frequently I come across people of all ages wearing my designs who tell me they have searched for years to find and finally own one of my smocks. 

Merging tradition with modernity has never been so appealing, I sense a revival rumbling and a growing feeling of wonder and delight that my smock story is entering another chapter. 

My sons Joseph and Jamie are the people who have gently coaxed me to recall and chronicle, they understand that for me, a mix of fearful reluctance and excitable curiosity share the same space. 

I struggle with acknowledging my achievements and recognising significance, but despite my initial reluctance and alarm, what an unexpected outcome it has been for me to unwrap my memories, make sense of the entirety, find joy in the process and cherish the result. 

So, it is heartfelt thanks to them having enabled me to step out from the shadow and tell my story.