May 17 2008
Jacksons: mannequins
A friend cited a blog post on Jacksons that I hadn’t yet written. I suspect this is because my conversation and blog posts become indistinguishable over time as they ferment. I’m fermenting a whole series of posts on the outstanding store that is Jacksons, that rightfully has a whole corner in Reading named after it.
We’ll start outside with the outstanding window displays. These are reminiscent of the 1960’s. The paper backdrop of large flowers could have been made, lovingly, by my mother, or yours. Thoughtful, personal, tailored rather than mass produced, I find the displays enticing.
Even the Mannequin’s look like they’ve escaped from the 1960’s. With humour. The Ladies nightware is cleverly marketted as ‘Slenderella’ and ‘Damella. But the names don’t quite make up for non-topical goods. You have to prize non-topical good to buy this nightware.
The store cares, next to the sign indicating that they have the ubiquitous CCTV is one pointing out that their floors MAY be slippery when wet. another sign lets you know that for our own safety we should not lean against their windows. Is there an ominous side to this? Are they teasing us? Which floors are wet and which are dry? What will happen if we lean against their windows?
This slightly sinnister side is compounded by some of the mannequins. A child mannequin in a tutu appears to watch you with evil eyes… …she scared me… …intrigued me…
Other Mannequins display a slightly non-sober jaunty angle with their wigs and hats. Explore my flickr photographs of Jacksons for the full effect.
Rarely can I resisit going into Jacksons. The inside of the store is another set of stories altogether. Worth waiting for.
Jacksons: mannequins
Fascinating - it seems so little changed in 50+ years!
This Reading blog site looks like it picked-up your observation and published the idea without crediting you as source:
http://www.getreading.co.uk/blogs/s/2029278_little_shop_of_horrors
Or maybe its general knowledge that Jacksons has scarey mannequins…
In the 1960s the window-dresser at Jacksons was Mrs E Mort. She was a qualified perruquierre. She would grind her teeth in despair at the current standard of wig-placement. I am often to be found in the school uniform department, masquerading as the mother of a public school boy, so as to enjoy the deference offered me by the Assistants. Cordially yours, Mrs P