Laura Ashley Welsh Greats

Laura Ashley was one of Wales' great creative talents.

I love working the factory.

I think a place where things are being made is very exciting.

Yet she became famous for creating an image of Englishness that women worldwide wanted to buy.

Laura was one of the greats of taste-makers, really.

She influenced a whole generation of people.

The soft, dreamy clothes that Laura created

concealed the determination of the woman behind them.

She was an unusual person, very quiet.

Best described as an iron fist in a velvet glove.

Laura Ashley was born in Merthyr Tydfil in 1925.

Being very Welsh,

my mother dashed home always about a month before her children were due

to make sure they were born in Wales.

Laura's parents lived in London, but when she was eight months' pregnant,

Laura's mother made the pilgrimage back to her childhood home in Dowlais.

Laura was born on 7th September at 31 Station Terrace.

It's the terrace right at the very top.

It's on the south side of the Brecon Beacons, what they call Dowlais Top,

and very exposed and bitterly cold.

Throughout her childhood, Laura, her sister and two brothers,

would spend summer and Easter holidays in Dowlais.

These visits had a great influence on Laura.

My grandmother had about eight sisters and they all were in service in London,

in great houses where the standards were incredible.

And of course, they all went back to marry Welshmen, and they took these Victorian standards back with them.

I just adored helping with everything.

Every morning the step had to be whitened, all the brass had to be polished.

And of course, the doors were all left open so that anybody could walk straight in.

The front door was always left open.

Each Sunday, Laura attended her grandmother's Baptist chapel, Hebron.

In one's wardrobe there was the set of Sunday clothes,

so you dressed quite differently for Sunday, of course, as it were, as everybody knows.

And then it was chapel three times a day.

And Sunday school in the afternoon was for everybody, not just children.

They were very strict, but very happy.

Laura's Welsh roots would remain important to her throughout her life.

Back in England, she enjoyed a happy childhood growing up in Beddington Park, Surrey.

We had a wonderful garden. There were 12 apple trees,

and in the summer there was so many windfalls that every single day

my mother would boil stewed apples and custard,

and that's what we had, and it was lovely.

But this idyll was interrupted in 1939, when Laura was just 13.

My father came home that evening.

Our whole lives changed so much we were never a family again.

It's how it worked out.

He said, "You must take the children to Wales tomorrow,

"there's going to be a war declared."

My mother hustled us all back to Wales.

We had to spend the first night, I remember, in Cardiff,

because there was a terrific rush to Wales that particular night, and the trains were packed.

She was so frightened the bombs were going to fall that night we stopped off in Cardiff with friends,

Welsh friends, and they hustled four of us children into a cupboard, and we slept the night there.

The next day they travelled up to their grandmother's house,

but because Dowlais was inundated with evacuees, there was no room for Laura in any of the local schools.

At the age of 13, her school days were suddenly over.

They decided that I'd better take a secretarial course,

so I had to go across the mountain to Aberdare to the school and take a secretarial course.

And then I went to London to join my father and uncle,

who were both civil servants, and my first job was with the Ministry of Health

because they thought it was safe for us, I was only 17, to travel with them.

In 1943, Laura, now aged 17, met Bernard Ashley.

He was a bit wild, because we met at a rugby club dance,

and he had come with a rugby ball because he thought it might be rather boring,

and it might liven up the proceedings if he actually started a game on the dance floor,

which he promptly did, and I had to crouch behind the piano cos I'm of a rather nervous disposition,

and I don't know how he ever noticed me, but we immediately became absolutely inseparable.

She must have fancied him, I think.

Well, you couldn't help it, he was very forceful, put himself forward,

and I think she'd never met anybody, a man, forceful like that.

He was very overpowering.

And then he went into the army, and then he was immediately sent to India with the Gurkhas,

so we just wrote to each other for the next three years.

I didn't see him for three years.

While Bernard went off to India, Laura was doing her bit too.

She volunteered for the Women's Royal Naval Service.

She was posted to HMS Dryad, where the D-day landings were being planned.

I got to this posting near Portsmouth and they locked the door behind me and said,

"Right, you're locked up here now cos there's going to be an invasion, and you can't get out again."

Well, she went into France after D-day and she was a teleprinter operator...

..and I think that really changed her life.

She was so timid as a child, and you'd never think she was very brave,

but she obviously was very brave.

And the first place she stayed in was this wonderful French chateau,

and in her bedroom was this great big photo of this hideous German officer

who must have left in a hurry and left this horrible photo of himself.

Bernard and Laura were married in 1949.

They moved into a flat in Pimlico, and in 1953 Laura gave birth to a daughter, Jane.

Bernard was by now working for a small investment firm in the city,

and Laura found a job as a secretary in the handicrafts department

of the National Federation of Women's Institutes.

Bernard had vague dreams of starting a business, but it was Laura who came up with the idea for it.

Having been inspired at women's institutes,

they'd had a marvellous exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum of patchworks,

and I really thought I really must do some patchwork, it's so lovely.

Laura's holidays in Dowlais as a girl had given her a glimpse of the traditional craft of quilt-making.

My great-grandmother had this quilting frame,

and she used to make patchwork quilts for all and sundry as well as having about eight children.

And in the parlour was still the quilting frame, and all my great aunts would gather round and quilt.

It was rather like Mrs Gaskell's Cranford, actually.

But by 1953, the traditional patterned material that Laura's great-grandmother had used

was difficult to come by.

I couldn't find the little prints I wanted,

-so we decided that we'd try printing them on the kitchen table.

-We, you and Bernard?

Yes. I got a book from the library and I said,

"Oh, you have to make a silk screen to do this,"

and he said, "You'll never do that, I'll have to do that for you."

So he made a silk screen and we started printing.

And if he got stuck he went to the Royal College of Art and asked them how to do the next thing.

They were very nice. They just didn't mind him barging in and asking them what to do.

And then he said, "You know, I think we can sell these things."

So we found whatever we printed on the kitchen table, we could sell.

And then, of course, my daughter was born,

and he came to St Thomas' Hospital to see me,

and he said, "Oh, I've given my notice in the city

"because I can't manage all this printing with you in this hospital and go to the city."

The inspiration for Laura and Bernard's first success came from abroad.

They went on holiday to Italy in 1953,

and Bernard and Laura saw all the girls on the back of the Vespas.

They were running round with these little neck scarves,

so they bought some, brought them home and copied them, and that's basically how it started.

The business soon outgrew the Ashleys' three-room flat.

Now, with two young children and a third on the way, they moved out to rural Surrey.

The distinctive vintage print tea towels they produced in an old coach house sealed the Ashley brand.

Bernard said, "Oh, well, I'm not putting my name on those silly things,

"you'll have to put your name on those," cos up to then it had been Bernard Ashley Fabrics.

So the trouble was then we got a huge, huge order from San Francisco,

and, I mean, it was thousands.

-For tea towels?

-For tea towels.

And we didn't have time to print any furnishing fabrics,

and so everything's going out with Laura Ashley on it.

-That's how it happened.

-Laura Ashley was born.

-Yes.

By 1959, the company was branching out,

producing aprons, smocks, and their very first floral print.

But in the south of England, Laura and Bernard's ambitions to expand their wholesale business

were continually frustrated by uncooperative bank managers and local planners.

It was time for a move.

So I said to Bernard, "Well, there's plenty of room in Wales."

So he got the map out and he said, "Well, look, they've just opened the M1,"

so we shot up the M1 and we found that, well, he's quite a fast driver, but we found it was viable.

Bernard and Laura's road trip took them to the market town of Machynlleth.

They used the last of their savings to buy a house and shop on the high street.

Wales was now their home.

One of their first employees in Machynlleth was Rosina Corfield.

I started with Laura Ashley in 1963,

and my sister Morveth, both of us started then.

I think we were the first two machinists there.

The setup was simple and unpretentious, the way Bernard Ashley liked it.

We were cutting out in the kitchen, and then I used to sew upstairs.

Orange boxes used to come, we used to sit on those.

He didn't believe in furniture.

He would have holes in his trousers, holes in his jumper,

you know, he wasn't bothered about being smart or nothing like that.

BA and LA, as they were always known to their employees,

had a strong working relationship which depended on their contrasting personalities.

They worked together, they shared things together, they sat down and discussed things together.

She was calm and he was a bit off, you know, he'd lose it, but that was him.

He was kind.

He'd do anything for you.

My father was the one that handed out the orders.

It was, you know, left, right, left, right, and you weren't qualified

to give an order until you could take one.

My mother went along with this nonsense, but, you know,

she was the brains behind the operation, so she was actually, you know,

sort of getting my father to hand out the orders.

But it was her idea in the first place.

Laura Ashley, you know, the brand, the company,

would never have been without the two of them.

That's absolutely true. You know, it needed the pair of them.

You know, Bernard had the sort of business drive in a way,

and Laura, I suppose, had the taste, and it was a wonderful combination.

The Ashleys were looking for a factory in Wales,

and they found the perfect location in the village of Carno, 15 miles from Machynlleth.

It was a one-horse town,

and my parents employed the horse and its owner.

Local jobs were scarce in Carno, and young people were leaving the area in droves.

We were very lucky because we happened on this village in mid-Wales

which is an extraordinary village, I think.

It's a very happy one with a very strong character,

and they have inspired us as much as we have, we hope, helped them.

They're always telling us we've helped so much, but really I think they've helped us more.

They were very confused by this, amused, I should say,

by this sort of Basil Fawlty type

and his rather austere-looking wife and trendy-looking kids.

But they soon got used to us.

The Ashleys breathed life into the village.

They brought work with them, and everybody sort of mucked in

and created what was a very exciting atmosphere.

The Ashleys' first premises in the village was a disused social club.

But it wasn't long before they needed more space.

Bernard and Laura took over the old railway station and immediately started building a factory there,

borrowing tractors from local farmers.

They hired sheep shearers as pattern cutters and farm wives as sewing machinists.

The Ashleys fitted in well in a farming community that valued hard work and cooperation.

I think people waste an awful lot of time socialising. I'm not very fond of that.

I think that, you know, if you're going to employ people, for instance,

you haven't got time to socialise because you have to be involved with the people you're with.

They were one of us, you know, they were approachable.

They weren't sort of bosses on high.

They were part of the team, basically, so we were all on the same level, and it just worked.

Everybody wanted to do their best for the company.

The factory in Carno was a happy workplace.

There were no night shifts at Laura Ashley.

Employees worked a four-and-a-half-day week, clocking off at lunchtime on Fridays.

Just working Friday morning so you got a long weekend to do your shopping

and get ready for Monday then, that was lovely.

A four-day week, that was lovely.

If they were pregnant, they could take as much time off as they like.

If people preferred working from home for a time then they could become an outworker.

It was very much a case of everyone working together.

When I had a child, they brought the sewing machine for me to work at home so I could do it when I got time.

And they used to pick it up and I used to tell them when it's finished, and they would come and collect it.

Mothers with school-age children were not allowed to work beyond 3.30pm.

This applied to Laura herself.

I would collect them from school and go home with them and have tea with them.

And so I was only working when they were elsewhere.

I think my duties were made clear to me as a child. Once I had a child,

my first duty from then on was to that child.

The Ashleys were by now living in a remote farmhouse 1,500 feet above sea level.

In this isolated setting, Laura enjoyed some of the happiest years of her life.

The home was always the heart of the business.

It was always the proper headquarters of the business.

All the business decisions were taken across the kitchen table.

-Some cheese.

-Ah, cheese!

-Yes.

'Anyone who wasn't happy at work, they were brought up into the kitchen'

and my mother would cook them a meal and then they'd tell her what the problem was.

And more often than not, the problem would evaporate halfway through the cooking process, because,

you know, they realised that they were being nurtured and nourished in every possible way.

There was a care for the workers, you know,

that sort of wealth and privilege also brings with it responsibilities,

you know, and basically, you know, you're here to do good.

She once described herself as a socialist who voted Tory, and that's quite a good description of her.

Laura's motherly concern for her workers

extended as far as the factory canteen, where one food was definitely off the menu.

She didn't like chips at all, you know.

She didn't like the smell, she didn't like anything about them.

She just thought they were unhealthy, whereas, you know,

boiled new potatoes with a little bit of butter and some parsley, you know, much more healthy option.

Although it has to be said, a lot of people in the factory really preferred chips,

and I don't blame them.

By 1968, the factory was turning out garments and fabrics for over 100 retailers.

The whole front's coming off, you know.

But the big breakthrough came when Laura decided they should open a shop of their own in London.

We thought, "Well, if we have a tiny little shop to start with," you know,

it'd be fun, anyway. That was very exciting.

That's one of the most exciting times of our life, you know, that we were actually retailing.

For the first six months we didn't understand anything about retailing,

and that shop, which we had in South Kensington by the underground station, just didn't go at all.

And then we advertise on the underground,

just 100 posters, and the result was absolutely amazing.

We advertise a dress for six guineas,

and within weeks the shop was so packed that we just had to shut the doors.

They could make the stuff themselves, design it themselves,

make it themselves, distribute it themselves and sell it themselves.

No middle-men and they can charge as much profit as they liked.

And as soon as they discovered that, as soon as they did that,

the whole business went like a firework straight up in the air.

Laura Ashley was suddenly the name on everyone's lips.

There is a real Laura Ashley, a lady from Merthyr Tydfil

who seems slightly surprised that her simple, pleasant designs

should have caught the imagination of the world.

Many of the designs are taken from old Welsh patchwork quilts like this one, dated about 1880.

The design of this patch is gradually transformed into sketches like this one,

and then finally into a modern skirt like this one here.

She used to like going around old shops picking up bits and pieces,

bookends or bits of crockery, which we could alter,

and there was that excitement of what we could do with it,

how we could adapt it, bring up to date, basically, freshen them up, simplify them.

This little tiny print, which you'd hardly notice,

it's so small, but she's seen that,

and then she wanted that developed into this print which we did as a certain negative and a positive.

Now this is a new one that nobody's ever seen, it's absolutely new.

And I think that's rather sweet.

'She didn't want anything perfect, so we had to put deliberate mistakes into the fabric,'

because that was the Ashley look at the time.

I mean, today, everything is so perfect and boring, basically,

but you could buy an Ashley dress with the imperfection in the printing.

Laura was selling an image of natural, rustic charm.

Her old-fashioned prints and long, flowing dresses harked back to an imagined Victorian past.

What I call the eyelash to toenail spriggy cotton dress,

probably with a straw hat, and, you know, eating a Flake in a field of flowers,

that is the iconic Laura Ashley look.

It was a world away from the miniskirts

and man-made fabrics that were all the rage at the time, thanks to another Welsh designer, Mary Quant.

I always think that I'm the country one and she's the town one.

She's marvellously urban,

whereas I've never lived in the city,

or if I've had to live in a city I've still got my roots in the country,

so it's a completely different scene altogether.

Her real talent was being able to spot a trend and a fashion

before it had even become a trend or a fashion, and that was her skill.

She wasn't actually a designer as such.

I would describe her as a taste-maker.

Anything with a nostalgia about it goes. It's always a winner.

I think people want to find a security at home.

Most of our categories of garments are to be worn at home.

They're not particulars for making a splash in a dramatic place,

so they're simple garments to wear at home.

To her the most important thing was your home and your family.

And it didn't matter what your home was, whether it was a tent, a tin shed or huge castle.

It didn't matter who your family were.

It's just the fact that you're all together under one roof having a meal together.

That's all that counts.

And so the products she designed

were products that help people to live that lifestyle and reinforce that.

Laura's nostalgic style was equally popular at home and abroad.

By 1973, Laura Ashley had shops in Holland, Switzerland and France.

Australia, New Zealand and America followed soon after.

There was a shop in Boise, Idaho in America where a customer came in,

looked at one of the products and said,

"Oh, gee, does Mrs Ashley really print this on her kitchen table?" And she really believed that.

Laura Ashley and her husband Bernard have built up from a kitchen workshop

in a London flat, a manufacturing and retail empire with three factories

in this country, two in Holland, and some 40 shops selling their products in nine countries.

And how they sell.

Garments are selling here at almost one a minute.

If you include all the company's British and European shops, the rate is a garment sold every 15 seconds.

The Ashley styles have an international appeal for both day and casual evening wear.

MUSIC: "MONEY" By Pink Floyd

Decades of hard work had finally paid off for Laura and Bernard.

They now lived in a Victorian mansion near Rhayader.

They opened new factories in Wales and the Netherlands.

In order to manage their multinational empire, they travelled by jet.

In 1978, they left Britain for tax reasons.

They bought a chateaux in France and a lavish townhouse in Brussels.

# Money, get away... #

But even as an exile, Laura retained creative control of the company that bore her name.

As the company grew, then they were pulled away from Carno,

which made it more difficult for Mrs Ashley, so she just kept sending things by post or whatever,

so new things would arrive every day, then we'd have to send them straight back.

Though Laura now lived abroad, her company remained committed to Wales.

In 1985, she opened Laura Ashley's eighth Welsh factory in Caernarfon.

I have great pleasure in declaring this factory open,

and I truly believe it'll be a very happy place.

APPLAUSE

We've got a fantastic team, and it just bubbles the whole time,

and the bubbles go right round the world, absolutely. It's so exciting.

Laura Ashley, the company best known for its floral prints and country-style fashions,

has announced that it will go public next spring.

Going public could raise £50 million.

That'll be used to build more factories and shops all over the world.

But they'll still be making a product designed to look

as though it was run up in the back room of a small country cottage.

With the company about to be floated on the stock market,

Laura returned to Britain to celebrate her 60th birthday.

Along the way she stopped off in Carno.

She was back in Carno for this design meeting

that we were working on prints for 1986 and 1987.

She was really excited about researching for 1987,

and that was the last time we've seen her.

Laura travelled on to her daughter Jane's cottage in the Cotswolds,

where she celebrated her 60th birthday.

In the early hours of the following morning, she suffered a fall.

Laura died nine days later.

In the afternoon we had a phone call,

and then this news spread around the factory like wildfire,

and everybody was in shock. We just thought it was a sick joke.

Couldn't get our head around it.

It was just terrible, terrible news.

CHOIR SINGS

Laura had lived all over Europe,

but she was laid to rest in the community closest to her heart.

Laura's funeral in Carno was attended by over 2,000 people.

Their presence spoke volumes about the woman behind the label Laura Ashley.

SINGING CONTINUES

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

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