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Cut, make and trim I 235

then, the windows were full of merchandise, so you’d put it
on a shape, a bust and put it in the window, and think, ‘What
does it look like now?’

No garment sold in isolation, it was always part of a conversa-
tion with everything else in the shop: the clothes, the atmosphere and
the customers themselves. Too far out of step and it would not work;
too familiar and it was not fashion. The trick was to go a step beyond,
and to recognise when the time had come to move things along.

I remember we used to sell for many years twin sets, a lot of
different colours in a plain fine knit. Round-neck, half-sleeve
jumper, plain, and a cardigan, and then there was a version
with a button-up-to-the-neck cardigan, called a lumbar neck.
I would make a habit of having them tried on by a woman in
the office before reordering, because we did a lot of repeat
ordering of that style. I remember thinking to myself one day
that the length looks old fashioned. It could have been too
close to the waist. Subconsciously I must have noticed that
women were wearing them differently.

Although he might reliably guess what would work in the next
few weeks, he never had a crystal ball for a future trend. ‘Ask me about
next season’s fashion, show me merchandise ahead, if a new thing has
come out, totally new, and no, I haven’t the faintest idea whether it’s
going to be good or bad.’ But he devised methods to truffle out and
test new trends:

Now if checked coats come out at the end of the season and
it’s liked, shall we say in December, then if I know that I’d say,
‘Right, what do we think about checked coats for next Sep-
tember?’ But in advance I would have no idea whether flared
trousers are going to be any good or not. If people talk about
them I think I’ve got to buy some to try. And having taken a
flare in, is it or isn’t it selling?

236 I Cut, make and trim

So if you’ve got a new line and you want to suss out
its potential you send it to an important shop like Manches-
ter or Liverpool. You put it in a good position and you go
up there for the Saturday morning and watch. Is anybody
looking at it? If they walk by and don’t even look, forget it. It
doesn’t matter what the price is. But if some people go over
and pick it up and try it on then you’ve got something there.
I remember in Manchester once, it was the start of
the coat season, so I went up there to stand in the coat section
to see what the customers were trying on. Biba had brought
out a velvet coat with tight puff sleeves so we did a version.
The Biba sleeves were ok for Kensington but a bit too tight for
Manchester. People were trying it on but too many couldn’t
buy it. We needed to make it a bit more commercial. If I
hadn’t gone there I wouldn’t have known.

It had been immensely liberating for him to stumble into the
womenswear trade armed with only a pair of eyes and an enquiring
mind to steer him. Seldom would he allow himself to be clouded by
theories or preconceptions when evidence could be gathered instead.
Indeed, he denied he was an expert in either fashion or clothing pro-
duction. ‘I try to get an understanding, a feeling for the product of
whatever market I’m in. I think I try to spot what the essence of some-
thing is. It isn’t a talent, it’s an approach and it could apply to anything.
It’s understanding your market and getting the product to suit it. It’s
about consumers and product and it’s the same mental attitude what-
ever you’re tackling. The business could have been houses, it could
have been motor cars, it could have been builder’s merchants, it could
have been furniture.’
It sounds fairly passionless, and frequently the work he put
in was gruelling, but it is impossible to overestimate the thrill that he
derived from each new shop opening, each triumphant navigation of
another tempestuous change in the retail landscape, and above all, the
satisfaction of providing for his family.

Lew Pokrasse, freshly
uniformed, before departing

for an uncertain fate in the
trenches (circa 1916).

Victoria Dock Road in
1931, still bustling with a
hairdresser’s, cinema and
several pubs.

A change of name for a
man hoping to change his
family’s fortunes.

The proud father watches Bernard
build fortifications by the beloved
Austin 12/6, Camber Sands, 1935.

Godfrey, beautifully turned
out, and Gwen, the nanny
from Harrow.

David, ready to build
his own castle.

A rare sight: Clara
and Lew at rest.

Victoria Dock Road prepares to shut down,
with buildings boarded up before the construction of

the Silvertown Way (9 March 1932).

Rathbone Street market, 1938, a theatre for curious young Lew, jolly and seemingly
eyes, and still bananas galore before rationing kicks in. healthy, as the Phoney War
rumbles on.

Business as usual at Covent Garden market, March 1941.

Lew in Torquay, forty-seven yet
looking decades older. That he
was well enough to gather himself
for this photograph is remarkable,
perhaps indicating his wish to
leave a memento.

Jewish Chronicle, 1942. The earliest British report into the mass murder
escalating into genocide across the Channel.

David, confident, committed RAF cadet, circa 1943.
Leading Aircraftsman Lewis, pilot
manqué turned bicycle mechanic.

Bernard, smart in his cap and melton cloth
uniform but still wingless.

The flat on Kyverdale Road, eighty
years after the Lewises took up
residence in 1940.

Sergeant David Lewis has won his wings, 1944.

David’s wartime flying logbook. 14 April, bombing raid to Berlin; 30 April, dropping food over
Rotterdam, and in between, home for Lew’s funeral.

An Avro Lancaster, the workhorse of
RAF Bomber Command and the most
prodigious bomber of World War Two.

The premises of Lew and Clara’s The Harringay shop sublet from Uncle Monty,
first shop in Holloway, now a reincarnated as a fashion store (photographed in 2018).
mini-supermarket.

Site of the fruit shop, Old Street,
selling the best kebabs.

The doorway in Cambridge where teenaged
Bernard sheltered from a downpour, mulling on
whether he would be captain of his own ship,
in the spirit of ‘Invictus’.

409B Lordship Lane, home to the
Wool Shop mark two (now Hair for Men).

Bernard’s greengrocery shack, complete with electric
lighting, revives the Nag’s Head bombsite, 1946.

The original
Wool Shop, 1948.

Clara teases
Geoffrey, away
on National
Service, for
indulging the
family weakness
for ‘skiving’.

With a firm
hand and
fatherly voice,
David
updates
Geoffrey.

Bernard and Lorna’s wedding. Front row, left to right: Mrs Spencer (Lorna’s mother),
Susan (Lorna’s niece), Lorna, Joy (Lorna’s niece), Roger (Lorna’s nephew), Fanny Tauber.

Back row: Herbert Spencer (Lorna’s father), Geoffrey, Bernard, Clara, David.

A family dinner. Clockwise from left: Adele, Anne (Ike Tauber’s wife), Clara,
David, Ruth, Lorna, Bernard, Godfrey, Kitty and Geoffrey.

Four brothers, two brides, their mother,
aunts and uncles, with Granny Tauber
(seated, centre).

Ruth and David photographed by
Bertram Park, who shared his

Dover Street studio with Ruth’s
employer, Marcus Adams.

Clara at David and Ruth’s wedding
reception, also taken by Park, whose
subjects included George VI and
John Gielgud.

The cherished Austin 10, which Bernard drove from the Longbridge factory, outside the
first Lewis Separates. The shop front looks strikingly modern beside the tailor next door.

The young, old, male and female press the counter at
the launch of Upton Park, attended by new manager
Adele Black (foreground).

Assistants turned out in the latest
Lewis Separates styles prepare their
smiles for the first day of trading
(Adele Black, second left).

Lewis in Tooting, several years after
its launch. Note the railings, installed
to keep crowds of customers off
the road.

A well-earned pay rise for Miss Black, framed for posterity. The letterhead reveals the
sophisticated ownership structure dreamed up by David.

Mr Bernard and
Mr Benny Hill
greet customers at
361 Oxford Street,
November 1956.

Harnessing the novelty of neon:
a typical shop front.

The happy couple, Adele and Geoffrey, flanked by two delighted mothers
and Buba Fanny Tauber (front row, right).

A slightly more traditional look in Hull, named
Woods Separates to utilise a tax loss.

Clara, still the formidable
Mrs C in charge at Mare Street,
Hackney, but coiffed, happy
and enjoying trips abroad
(circa 1960, France).

Customers wait anxiously for
Cardiff to open its doors.

The final tally (in units, not pounds sterling), 8 November 1958, before Bernard retired his
meticulous records in the repurposed Letts diary.

Caroline, Clive and Leonard join Lorna
on a day out from the Withymead Centre.

Lorna, Leonard, Caroline and
Clive, picture perfect, no hint of
hidden sorrows.

Admiring the verdant island vistas, soon to fill with skyscrapers.

One pair of chopsticks, four men building
their businesses. Bernard did not sample
the food, but took a chance on deals in
Hong Kong, 1961.

Chester’s first swinging
London-style boutique.

Geoffrey’s initial foray into Chelsea boutiquery,
the King’s Road, 1966.

The ever-changing face of Chelsea
Girl as Geoffrey evolved its look.

Geoffrey, models and the
handbag department.

The eyes of passers-by
magnetised by the display
in Leicester.

The vicar drops in to spread the good news, snapped for the Liverpool Echo. Mrs Mason,
area controller, in black, with her girls.

Another gleaming new facade in Manchester, an important shop in a crackerjack
position. British Steel featured this image in full-page adverts in the Sunday Times Magazine.

The iconic
tilted heart

motif.

Chelsea Girl, Tooting, painted by Dan McFall, a.k.a. The London Artist, who remembered
this South London landmark from his days as a postman.

Clara, doting
matriarch, encircled
by grandchildren.

Clara, her third
husband Alf Shaw
and Bernard at a
family celebration.

From left: Jenny Lewis,
Clive, Leonard,
Clara Shaw, Adele
and Caroline.

From left:
Teenaged Leonard,
Adele and Godfrey.

Caroline eyes Clive drinking illicit
champagne.

Leonard (left) and
Clive ready to plunge,
Manor House Drive.

Scuba diving offshore in Mallorca.
From left: Clive, Caroline and Leonard.

Leonard and Bernard in coordinating Off to the Alps,
cardigans at Millfield School, Clive troops,
Somerset. in Tottenham
Hotspur’s
colours.

Caroline serenades Manor House Drive.

Clive channels
the spirit of

Sergeant Pepper
with Rusty the dog.

The Daily Telegraph trumpets
retail whirlwind Vanessa Bracey,
aged twenty-two, pioneering a
‘total look’ at Debenhams and
Freebody.

The notes Bernard
made when he
interviewed

Vanessa in 1969.
Key observations
are coded in red.

The area controllers’ big night out. Front row: David Lewis (far left) next to Rene Spencer;
Cyril Kraines, retail director (third right). Back row: Vanessa Bracey (second left) next to
Bernard Lewis (third left) and Mrs Birch, Wales area controller in her tuxedo (fourth left).

Leonard and Bernard on the building site of
Chelsea House, Hanger Lane (1974).

Vanessa making friends
on her first holiday with
Bernard in Morocco,
1972.

Leonard and
Vanessa forging
business
relationships in
Hong Kong.

Bernard
photographed by

Vanessa.

Unwinding, after his fashion, Vanessa and Bernard marry.
in France, 1991.
Vanessa carefully planning
the buy in Korea.

Jake, Vanessa
and Sam.

Savouring pâtisserie and newsprint, South of France:
(from left) Sam, Vanessa, Jake and Bernard.

David and Bernard open the Lewis National Prosthetic Center, Tel Hashomer Hospital,
Tel Aviv (since renamed the Lewis National Rehabilitation Institute).

Double identity crisis?
Chelsea Girl and retail
brother, Concept Man,
mid-1980s, reflect the
struggle for a fresh look.

Elegance on a grand scale, Oxford Street.
Multiple floors of chic in Manchester’s
Arndale Centre flagship.

River Island arrives in 1988,
an instant classic.
River Island, 2018, Birmingham, showcasing the lessons of seven decades in retail:
large windows, lively display, enticing photos, and an uplifting dash of neon.

Buying floor and design room,
Chelsea House.

Milton Keynes distribution centre.

Chelsea House.

Rihanna turns New York into a catwalk for her
River Island debut collection.

Billboards brighten Shoreditch, unrecognisable from the
days when Hyman Pokrasse hired barrows to market
porters on White’s Row.

A view inside River Island, Merryhill.

Personal shopping is
among the delights on
offer to customers at
River Island, Lakeside,
in Thurrock.

From left: Bernard, Godfrey, Geoffrey and David gather for Claire’s wedding.

Godfrey (left) and Bernard
in Miami.

Godfrey and second wife,
Pru, 2000.

Leonard
on holiday
in Israel.

A children’s party. From left: Leonard, Vanessa, Sarah and Clive.

Clive and Bernard meet Jimmy Greaves, fellow
East Londoner, Tottenham Hotspur’s highest ever
goalscorer (266 goals) and the greatest goalscorer in
the history of English top-flight football (357 goals).

A family trip to Japan. Clockwise from left: Clive and Sarah.
Sarah, Clive, Max, Clara and Lily.

Megumi, Sarah, Max, Clive, Kotone and Lily
celebrate Kotone’s birthday.

Left to right:
Elliot, Alice,
Caroline
and Betsy.

Bernard and Vanessa Lewis;
Shirley and Don Black;

and Lucian and Caroline Grainge
attend a fundraiser for Jewish Care.

Squadron Leader the Duke of Cambridge
knights Sir Lucian Grainge CBE.

Betsy and Caroline.

Leonard and sons (from left): Jamie, Joe and Ollie.

Leonard and Ingrid. Leonard, Ingrid and Lorna at
Sam and Raman’s wedding.

Lorna, the youngest
bridesmaid, enchanted
by Raman the bride.

A rare Bernard interview for Drapers by Eric Musgrave.

Vanessa, Jake, Bernard and Sam celebrate Mr Bernard’s
Drapers Lifetime Achievement Award in 2005.

Matching hats, smiles and poses: Vanessa and Bernard on holiday
after nearly half a century of happiness.

Vanessa and friends celebrate her
60th birthday at Claridge’s
(from left): Gill Biffa, Pat Dawson,
Vanessa, Suzi Shellabear,
Nobuko Mackison.

David
at work.

Ruth Lewis.
David Lewis’s children:
Debbie.

Ben.
Simon.

Rachel.

Julian aged 22.

The Jewish Chronicle remembers David, socks-and-sandals-wearing champion of Eilat.

Bernard and the
grid where ranges
are decided at
Chelsea House,
photographed for
Drapers, 2005.

Ben and Bernard Lewis talk shop.

“The retail industry in this
country is innovative,
socially conscious and
”responsible and a
credit to the country

An industry leader, speaking up for his trade in Retail Week, 2009.

Jake.
Sam.

The Lewises gather in the Costa Brava. Back row, left to right: Clive, Theo, Max, Ollie,
Rabbi Thomas and Joe. Front row: Ingrid with baby Lorna, Leonard, Ingrid’s mother Presen,
Clara, Sarah, Lily, Vanessa, Rose and Bernard.

Waterskiing,
Eilat, 1998,
aged seventy-two.

Another turn in a Tiger Moth, seventy-three years
after the premature termination of his flying training,
when his life was blown off course.

Mission accomplished. Bernard and
great-grandson Jamie, bridging nine decades
and four generations in the founder’s office,
Chelsea House, reflecting on the long road
travelled.