Hello to you Crowther interested types. I was John's (Crowther) first van driver (between around 1968 and 1970) and do remember the Corporation St shop, though not very well, given that I delivered garments there regularly. Dates are not my forte. John was a fantastic guy, very down to earth except when it came to his weakness - bands and pop music, of which more anon.
The Birmingham shop was being refurbished ready for its big launch the night I arrived. Builders everywhere and I was trying ot bring dresses in. As ever I ended up wielding a spade then a brush trying to get the shop ready for the morning's opening. the shhop was definitely on a corner, with a corner door, if you get my drift, and a spiral staircase inside. I parked on Corporation St and was told to put it on the pavement by a passing policeman as it was blocking the traffic (not pedestrianised then). A few minutes later another constable ordered me to put it on the road as it was blocking the pavement! a van driver's lot was not a happy one.
As I also worked in the warehouse I knew the garments well: Marcello crepe was a miniskirted suit as I recall. Let's just say it would not have kept you very warm in winter.
John first shop was in Oldham; a terraced house next to the market. He got publicity by painting the entire outside in a black and white Paisley pattern. His next shop was in South King St Manchester. Like the Oldham shop he had bought up lots of thigns from the slum clearnaces that were taking place around the area of Oldham and Manchester, to use ad shop fittings: bentwood coatstands - for hanging the garments on, huge mirrors, cheval mirrors, aspidistras in old pots or jardinieres. I often had to go buying stuff for him from second-hand shops.
He had a shop in Chester too, but it folded quite early on.
The London shop was on Ken High St, on the right as you approach the junction with Kensignton Church St., travelling from Kensington Palace area. I drove through overnight from Manchester to arrive at 08.00 at the shop, often delivering also to Miss Selfrige, Bus Stop and other boutiques.
No joined up motorways in those days, I had to drive over the Snake Pass to pick up the M1 near Chesterfield.
The London shop was, in my view, his undoing. Whereas he had bought cheap but very atmospheric fittings for his other shops, in Kensignton he had imported tiles from Malta and all sorts of other, over-the-top stuff. His budget kept climbing as his London-based pop-music-set pals kept advising him of what would be 'cool', man.
He employed loads of these new friends who, frankly, had no idea about running a business but were trendy to be with, and on the payroll.
The designs were fantastic. I am trying to remember the name of his designer - Pat something, I think. She designed a wonderful fantasy design of fairies and stuff, in the rain, and called it Sunny Manchester.
Basically, his design instincts were spot on, and so were his business instincts - at first. But, his weakness.
He and his wife bought a farmhouse in Saddleworth, in the Pennines above Oldham, but handed it over to Barclay James Harvest to use, much to his wife's dissatisfaction. And mine really. In the early days I was collecting dresses from the makers - mostly tiny sweatshops around Manchester, delivering them to the cramped Dickensian cellar in South King St that served as our warehouse, then delivering them on to shops; in a minivan. I don't mean a minibus, I mean little Austin mini van. The dresses were on individual hangers and bagged in plastic bags, so that, often, when I opened the back doors, 100 dresses would cascade onto the road like a river in flood.
So John bought me a big Transit parcel van. I had not had it more than a few days when the band - BJH - arrived at the office, and left with the van.
Too many tales. But I am convinced that John was too keen on being one of the guys on the band scene, and it hampered his business. Funnily enough, once John's patronage of BJH finished, they seemed to take off commercially. Odd eh?
John Crowther died in the dentist's chair of some freak accident at the age of just 26. He was a great bloke and had style and panache.
