“Julie needs a biscuit” a rosy cheeked runner stated. The
young man she had just informed of this baked good related crisis threw his head
in his hands. It was obvious neither his azure blue, polka dot chinos nor Italian
white shirt had ever come into contact with a mere mortal digestive.
‘Erugh’ he huffed. A
groupie of runners and the anxious eyes of the three hundred waiting designers
followed, as he swept off. Presumably to wherever Liberty’s keep the biscuit
tin.
The group had just
emerged from a set of fine oak double doors. Behind which lay a secret world of
opportunities for the designers, inventors and general thinkers and tinker-ers
who had been herded into the top floor gallery of iconic, world famous store,
Liberty’s of London.
Potential knock backs
and put downs or the first step to world domination lay beyond those double
doors.
Inside the Narnia that they had just emerged from sat buyers
from every department of the renowned store, each accompanied by a journalist
from a fitting publication. The only glimpse of this mysterious room was a number
of super stylish, super stressed co-ordinators, photographers, bloggers, and
biscuit go getter-ers that zipped in and out on a steady rotation.
An opportunity to
pitch your product to this crowd is something many designers would give their
right arm for. Even if it entailed queuing from eight in the morning. On a
Saturday. In Central London. In January.
After an hour and a
half and a couple of Starbucks, we had made it into the waiting room, where
designers were divided into categories. Naturally, we were led to the Home
Furnishings section, with a miniature Louis the 14th sample chair in
tow. During our five hour wait we watched as obscurely shaped, bubble wrapped
packages were heaved behind the forbidden doors, followed by carefully hung
displays of jewellery, bags of cushions, silk scarves, boxes of bow ties,
scarves, cushions, pottery, scarves, cushions made from scarves, shoes, home
craft kits, men’s scarves…and so this list went on. A steady flow of designers
going in, but no one coming out.
But you do come out.
And nobody came out more excited than us. After discovering that the duo we
signed up to see consisted of famous straight talking New Yorker and Store
Managing Director Ed Burstell and Sunday Times Living Magazine Journalist Katrina
Burroughs we were only slightly nervous.
Eventually one of the
lightening bolt runners was heading in our direction. We were ushered through
the oak doors into a comparatively quiet haven of bent heads over tables, deep
in discussion. A lady with impossible large hair was leaving the table where a
casually cool gentleman with a silver crew cut hair and his accompanying
journalist were waiting.
They cast a mildly
interested eye over our fabric books and photo slideshow but it wasn’t until Ed
was flicking through our look book that a he spoke.
‘These beanbags, can they go outside?’ Yes. ‘Can you do them
in this fabric?’ Yes. ‘We are doing an outdoor living range for the first time
this year. These would be great. Can you send me more information?’ Yes. “Ok,
see you later.”
And that was it.
Liberty of London wanted to know more about our
Jersey Beans.
After
spending an hour or so giddy and giggling in the Pret A Mange round the corner,
we realised that, despite the current freezing temperatures, outdoor living
would be here before we knew it. There was no time to spare; a plan was to be
hatched. These Jersey Beans mean business. The Loving Chair Company could be
coming to an extra special store very soon.
