I only own one pair of shears. I mean, I have a pair of pinking shears but they’re so stiff I can’t remember the last time I used them. (If you want to read about a serious scissor collection, see Gertie’s fascinating recent post.)
Earlier in the year, I managed to drop my shears on the floor and they’ve never worked properly since. Whenever I slice through fabric (or try to) they stick halfway down the blade. I’ve put up with this situation for over six months until I pulled my finger out and took the scissors to MacCulloch & Wallis in central London for their scissor sharpening service.
I love MacCulloch & Wallis – it’s a last bastion of English Eccentricity. Like bees round a honey pot, the eccentrics had come out to play the day I visited. The woman in front of me in the queue asked for 87 buttons to be counted out – and then changed her mind about buying them.
It’s really cute when you drop your scissors off. They tie a little label around the handle, with your name and phone number attached. They call a customer when their scissors are sharpened and ready. I felt like asking if I should send the butler round to pick them up.
It got better. The tills were down, so every receipt was painstakingly scribed on some type of steam punk receipt machine:
I have to say, despite the trials and tribulations the staff faced, their customer service was excellent. One young woman delved through boxes and boxes to find what I was looking for and she really saved my skin.
If you’re looking for a heady cocktail of Downton Abbey, Upstairs Downstairs and The Importance of Being Earnest, go visit MacCulloch & Wallis. It’s one of a kind. You’ll really be stepping back in time…