Female one: “The thing about Joseph, particularly in those days, is that you had to have the right figure to start with. Don’t know what it’s like now as I don’t wear fashion any more, but in the late eighties if you didn’t have the right figure and you wore something from Joseph you just looked like a sack of potatos. That’s why I threw the lot out after I had my second, it was too upsetting knowing I’d never wear them again.”
Female two: “Also, everyone wore fashion then. Today the only people who wear fashion are the fashion world. But I can remember in the mid-eighties you would all be wearing big-words T-shirts, and a month later everyone would be in tartan and a month after that everyone was in paisley. It was very quick moving.”
Female three: “And flat shoes…” (collective frisson of appreciation).
Female one: “To get back to Joseph, it became a thing with me. Joseph Tricot, Joseph Bis, Joseph Pour La Ville. I was buying clothes for my boyfriend as well – that’s how stupid I was.”
Female three: “I used to like Joseph Pour La Maison in Sloane Street. I used to go there with a friend and upset the shop assistants – they could be really bitchy if you let them. I bought a wonderful Stephen Jones hat there. Underneath the shop there was a restaurant called L’Express which was supposed to be one of THE places to go. Four of us went there once and we couldn’t believe the prices. But it was glamourous though, worth going to, and the only time I’ve properly enjoyed a salad as a main course.”
Female one: “I don’t understand when people look back on the eighties and say it was a miserable time – the eighties weren’t miserable for me.”
Female two: “The miners strike? Didn’t know anything about it. Young people weren’t socially-aware in those days and so it didn’t even register.”
Female three: “The only time I heard of the miners strike was when my sister went to North London Poly. The halls of residence were in tower blocks, and every week the miners used to come round with buckets collecting for the strike. There was a lot of pressure to give them money so she did, but that’s the closest anyone I knew came to the miners strike.”
Above: the Joseph store is still at 16 Sloane Street.
Above: and underneath the store (entrance actually in the store itself) there is still a restaurant, although it is no longer called L’Express. I looked down through the plate glass at the mysterious interior. Does the eighties continue to survive there, untouched, like some Tibetan Shangri-la valley?
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