More feature: Sew, how's business?

Under the baby blue pressed metal ceiling of the Anne Gaye Salon, the styles have come, gone and come again. In fact, many of the fittings and fixtures in here have swung back into vogue too.Think black plastic-moulded swivel chairs, darling little mannequins and touches of vintage glamour. “It’s like a retro shop, it’s a time warp,” says salon owner Leighaire Casboult.“It’s a bit like Steel Magnolias – like Dolly Parton. “And it attracts that kind of clientele. I have a mid-range clientele that like to have their hair set.“It’d be the last salon in Bendigo like this.”It could be argued that the longer things last, the more precious they become. It’s no exception with Bendigo’s long-term service providers.Those much-loved businesses that are part of the community, part of the furniture. This week, we’re visiting three shop fronts that keep on keeping on, hemmed in by the bright lights and sale signs of fly-by-night franchisees.Leighaire knows a thing or two about staying put. Her mother, Dot Murray, was a Bendigo hairdresser for 74 years.Dot’s Helen Lang salon in Victorian Lane was a local institution. She employed more than 100 apprentices over the years, including Leighaire, who joined her mum in the salon at 16.“We got on famously,” she says.“It was very busy. We had a lot of staff and clients used to go upstairs for perms and colours, downstairs for trimming.“Everybody used to go to the balls and have their hair done up in curls. On a Friday we’d be doing barrel curls and hair sets for the dances.”Leighaire finished her apprenticeship at 20 and went straight into establishing and managing the Anne Gaye Salon. That was in the days of up-styles with barrel curls, the dolly cut, the Mia Farrow pixie cut and the bob.Leighaire has spent 39 years in the trade, but has no aspirations to match her mother’s commitment.“She didn’t retire. “She died at 88 and she was in at work right up until the day before.“She just enjoyed it, right up until the end.“Not many people stay in the same job anymore.“But I’m not going to be here when I’m 88 – that’s off the cards. That’s a one-off, that one.”Everything you see at Anne Gaye has its purpose, it may be retro, but it’s still working. The cash register beside the front door is a relic from Favaloro’s Café in Pall Mall.The hairdryers are still lowered to the crowns of Bendigo’s glamour girls.“They’re not really old, I’ve got the really old stainless steel hairdryers in the shed at home,” Leighaire says. “I’ve got the original perming machine in the shed too. “It’s a shame there’s no museum in Bendigo, I’ve offered it to the Heritage Society.”No museum perhaps, but pockets of history, yes. “It’s a bit like the Beehive this store, people can come in and get French rolls and chignons for dancing,” Leighaire says.And speaking of beehives, thanks to the likes of Amy Winehouse, Leighaire says that actual mother of the bouffant is coming back too.

Well heeled

Ross White knows a thing or two about Bendigo’s old soles. He’s been repairing them for almost 30 years in Williamson Street.He says it’s weird to think he’s spent the best part of his life in a three-metre by thee-metre workshop. But judging by that quick smile and hearty laugh, it’s a good life.Shoes aside, he knows about the old souls, too. “We used to have an old bloke come in who had one leg and he was forever breaking his straps,” Ross says. “We used to fix it for him and he’d come up the back of the shop, drop his strides and sit down while we fixed the straps for him.“The ladies used to stay right up the front while that was happening.”The travel goods and shoe repairs shop has been a staple of the street for 40 years. And although there are not many old-style cobblers left, Ross says in no way is business wearing thin.“We’re doing more and more. When I first bought the business I was happy to do 120 pairs a week, now we’re looking at 240 to 260 a week,” he says.“I laugh when people say it’s a dying trade and that no one gets shoes repaired anymore because they throw them away.”Seems the old adage to mend and make do is enjoying a revival. And it’s not alone.“I’ve seen fashions turn full circle. When I first started we used to have to take platforms off shoes, now people are wearing platforms again,” he says, reaching for a red patent pair on the shelf.And speaking of high heels, don’t think we’re backward in the provinces; Bendigo women have their fair share of Manolo Blahniks, as do the men.“When the blokes come in with high heels I used to say ‘they’re yours aren’t they’ and have a joke about it.“We had one bloke come in and as soon as he opened his mouth I thought, ‘oh, they are yours!’”Likewise Ross’s bits and bobs cater for all walks. Among the rows of leather tints there’s bone, camel and pewter alongside tutu pink.But the workshop’s pride and joy is a treadle stitching machine, a black beast of a thing that’s been humming away here since 1971.“It still does the job and they still make ‘em,” Ross says.“I went to an antique fair one day and saw one of those stitching machines that was over 100 years old. As soon as I saw it I knew what it was straight away, they really haven’t changed.”Although boots and heels dominate the shelves, Ross says he’ll have a go at fixing or making anything.“We meet a lot of good people and try to please everyone but it doesn’t always work,” he says.For example, don’t ask for custom-made shoes for your dog. It’s been tried. It doesn’t work.But biker club jackets, bondage straps and false leg leathers are all catered for. Plus, a fool-em-all mystery item regularly brought in for repair.Here’s your clues… vet, horses, AI. And that’ll be that on the subject.

Sew sister

If you look up above Susan in the Hargreaves Mall on a summer’s day you’ll likely see the 30-pane windows thrown open and hear the hum of vintage machines drift down on the breeze.Up here, Shirley Griffin has made good our garments for more than 25 years. The narrow stairs up, up, up above the mall feel like the entrance to secret women’s business, where talk of hems and zips and seams comes as second nature.Shirley’s space is classic rag trade, with an air of industrial glamour. The gorgeous timber ceiling and deco windows frame a beautiful collection of vintage sewing machines, fabrics and threads.“They sew beautifully. I don’t really know how old they are – the newest one is the Bernina and that’s 35 years old,” Shirley says of her classy machines.Shirley began her career as a dress designer and pattern maker, learning all she knows from a French designer in Flinders Lane.When she moved to Bendigo she established Griffanne in this lovely lofty space, which boasts one of the best views in Bendigo. Out one side is Mitchell Street, with the Bendigo Centre and the Cathedral spire on the horizon, the other side it’s the daily human melodrama of the mall.“We had a view of a big thing all covered in beautiful ivy and they pulled it down. We left one Friday and it was gone on the Monday. But this is good, it looks a bit New York,” Shirley says of the new-look mall.Despite its discreet façade, Griffanne has no shortage of customers tracking up and down the stairs.Shirley says there’s a new wave of young fashion-savvy locals bringing in their op shop finds.“It’s good because the material is better in a lot of the antique clothes,” she says.Other than that it’s jeans and evening dresses to be shortened, and the odd wedding dress.A photo board shows some of them, plus the smiling faces of ‘60s women behind like machines that shine as new. They’re the sew sisters Shirley worked with in the city.“It’s all about people, isn’t it, more than things,” she says.These three locals all put people first. Perhaps that’s exactly why their businesses continue to thrive.laurenm@bendigoadvertiser.com.au