Cloth Hunting

Oh there are many things I wish to tell about my trip to Lisbon but I will begin with Cloth Hunting. Friends and family, and so I'm sure most people, think palpitations about entering a beautiful haberdashers is odd (read kinky/weird). But I consider myself lucky that something so innocent can be so pleasurable, so thrilling.

I've been doubly lucky. I'd arranged to meet with Mary from "Saloia", my first real life encounter with someone from cyberspace. I was nervous but also excited and I intuitively trusted that her kind, funny words would correspond in person. Really it's incredible, I have good friends with whom I wouldn't spend a 3 hour car journey, let alone a 13 hour extravaganza with a "stranger". And yet once we hit the road we couldn't stop; the trawling for fabric, chatting life stories, with the windows rolled down and a warm breeze. Plus a decent stop for grilled fish and regional cakes. THANK YOU Mary.
We visited two of her favourite shops including Idosos em Familia, Lda an impeccable cloth shop with a sewing workshop attached. We met the unflappably chic Dona Maria Julia Dias Raposa (note the black nails) who posed with the photo of her taken 60 years earlier in a carnival costume "Varina Estilizada".


But then they told us of an old shop so stuffed with material that the front door didn't open properly and suddenly poor Dona Julia's stories lost all interest and at her first draw for breath we were off.



It was true, the door couldn't open fully. Nor could you get at the 3 metre thick mountains of fabric with who knows what secrets inside. This place was crazy. First a pure adrenalin rush at the prospect of hidden treasures, and then as we squeezed through it's labyrinth of 6 rooms, a growing revulsion at the dusty, moulding mountain of goods - decades of dust, rodent droppings, trodden down boxes and the coo of nesting birds. Finally the sneezing and itching held us back. And yet the owners treated it all as normal. There wasn't even a surface to cut cloth. It was perverse. I would love to return with 6 strapping lads, gloves and masks.

I'm afraid I won't tell names, or even towns. I once read a restaurant review in Timeout were the critic said it was one of the best venues he'd ever visited, that the few who ate there you were lucky, but he wouldn't divulge the name or place. It's the same.

Rosa graciously shared another secret venue and all I will show is a photo of scraps.

It's a vicious world out there in the sewing fraternity. Or we're just scared that these precious cloth shops are in danger of extinction and the little cloth they retain is scarce. I want to be able to return to these places in the years that they last, to chat to the owners and buy a few buttons, trim and cloth, eat at the local "tasca" and when I get home at night, unwrap my parcels and spread the treasures over my floor.

The place below I've been visiting for about 5 years and the happy mess of button boxes is mine.