Mod Meets Mayfair
The story of a Mod who becomes a Savile Row tailor
copyright Peter Bailey 2008
Alfie parked the scooter outside a row of neat cottages in Totteridge Lane. Blimey it’s posh round ‘ere. He though as he scanned
the scene, even the shops in the parade opposite had window boxes.
“That would be a great location for a tailors shop”. He thought aloud as he noticed a double windowed building that was now a
post office one side and a bakers the other. “What about a ladies hair salon?” replied Tracie  who’d, left the house when she
heard the scooter pull up.
Alfie swung round to face her. “Wow” he exclaimed, you look stunning. “’Cause I do, Alfie Clark only goes wi' t fittest Lasses”.
Alfie smiled a big natural smile and questioned, “What’s a fit lass when it’s at ‘ome?”  Tracie loved the honesty of his question.
“It’s what yew cockneys call a sort.”
“You’re no mere sort; you’re the most elegant young woman I’ve ever met.” They blushed unashamedly, embraced then kissed.   
“I bet there’s a cosy little boozer down that lane, or we go into town, what ya reckon?”
“Lass from post office, reckons Orange Tree’s well nice.” Cosy and little it wasn't, but they both thought the Orange Tree was the
best pub they'd ever seen.

Nobody would have recognised the unshaven drunk sat on his own as David St John. St John was becoming convinced there
was a vendetta against him as he observed Alfie and Tracie laughing from the far corner table. The conversation (between two
couples) from a nearby table only seemed to confirm it.  “I’m glad I changed cutters, I was all for leaving Anderson’s until young
Glover took over my account.” The man’s wife breathed in through her nose, it was his cue to let her speak. “What my dear
husband means is, he’s glad I picked up the phone and spoke to that nice Mr Glover on his behalf.”  “You did what; I thought it
odd that Glover suggested cutting my suits in future.” How was he to face the tailor now he knew the truth? “It’s us wives who
make all the decisions and have the men believe they’re in the driving seat, injected the wife of the other couple.” As all three
couples laughed simultaneously St John stormed out, nearly falling over the Vespa for the 2nd time that week.

“So how long you known ‘eather?” Alfie enquired as he took a sip from the pint of Pims they were sharing.” We met Saturday, in
Carnaby Street. I were in this shop and she came out t'changing room and said, whadyafink babe does it match?” Realising she
was talking me; I suggest lime green shoes needed a darker top. She wouldn' t'have it till I showed her and then she was really
made up, and we bonded there and then.”
"You gave her honest advice;she values honesty highly does our Heather."
Alfie awoke early the next day, scanned the unfamiliar room and then looked at Tracie, snuggled up next to him looking all
content. It was a look he’d seen countless times before, only this time he had no intention of slipping away. He knew their
meeting on Monday was no coincidence, cheers Heather he thought, realising how his accent was starting to become a bit
more Mayfair. Mod Meets Mayfair, great name for a shop or two, he cuddled back up to Tracie for an hour. He’s still here  thought
Tracie who also thanked Heather.
Page three: Totteridge 1962