Let's Talk About..... The 3 Esthers

Esther is the name I gave to my dressmakers dummy. My parents gave her to me for my birthday when I was 15 or 16 in the mid 1970’s. I remember choosing her. We went to Lewis’s in Leicester. A big department store with a great fabric and haberdashery floor. Everything you could need. She was state of the art. Fuchsia pink with dials on her bust, waist and hips, so you could change her size.

Now almost 50 years old, she started to look a little tired, so I gave her a makeover. I covered her body in wadding, then covered the wadding in fabric and sewed her in. I can no longer change her shape, but that’s OK. I use her to place my fabric onto the jackets. It’s good to see the jackets at eye level, and get a balance of shape and colour.

Years later my brother and SIL named their baby Esther. Esther had a dressmaking phase, so borrowed my Esther. 2 Esthers united. 

Niece Esther is a Gen Z, and is very conscious of the over indulgences of the world. Recently she vowed to not buy any new clothes for a year, which she managed to do without compromising her style.

I also have a great, great Aunt Esther. My maternal grandmothers aunt. Esther Goodman was the youngest of 3 girls, born in Leicester in 1887. Family folklore has it that she tried to buy a ticket for the Titanic, but failed, and soon after emigrated to Canada. During the early 20th century the Canadian government actively encouraged and promoted resettlement to Canada. She left behind both parents and 2 sisters Hannah and Emily. Emily spent her whole life in a bath chair, and Hannah is my grandma’s mother. 

Esther married Mr Edge in Canada, but he was killed by an indigenous Canadian when he went to buy a reel of cotton! She then became a housekeeper to Mr Johnson, and married him and had 2 children Maurice and May, living in Victoria, British Columbia.

She never came back to England, not even for a visit. I imagine she never saw her family again. She died in 1979 aged 92, and I never got the chance to meet her. There must be lots of Canadian cousins out there, somewhere. Maybe one day I shall go looking for them.