logo
#

Latest news with #WorldFair

Ireland on a journey from solid fuel to clean and green
Ireland on a journey from solid fuel to clean and green

Irish Examiner

time5 days ago

  • Politics
  • Irish Examiner

Ireland on a journey from solid fuel to clean and green

In 1939, the painter Séan Keating produced a mural for the Irish pavilion at the World Fair in New York. The theme of the Fair was 'The World of Tomorrow'. Keating's mural depicts the monumental Ardnacrusha hydroelectric power station built in 1929, a twin propeller Aer Lingus plane and, in the middle, a mechanical peat excavator representing the fledgling peat industry. The Turf Development Board was established in 1934 by the newly elected Fianna Fáil Government. In the early 1930s, turf was entirely cut by hand and was largely for domestic use. Coal was the predominant fuel in the country, imported from Britain with infrastructure and logistics to support it — from Dublin port to the coal hatches built into Victorian houses. Unlike the modern feat of engineering represented by Ardnacrusha, the traditional practice of turf-cutting was associated with backwardness and poverty, a legacy of the colonial era. One Fine Gael TD, opposed to the development of an indigenous turf industry, quipped: 'I never thought that the day would come in this country when a Bill would be introduced into our Parliament purporting to solve unemployment by turning the people's eyes to the bogs of Ireland.' Thirty years later, the Bellacorrick turf-fuelled power station was opened with a celebratory dance in Crossmolina town hall. The Western People declared it the 'event of the century', noting that fifty years earlier, the realisation of such a project would have been more unlikely than an independent Irish state. Eighty people were employed in the power station, three hundred on the bog, providing electricity to rural households, farms and businesses. The familiar story of Irish modernisation begins with Séan Lemass ushering in T.K. Whitaker's new economic policy in the early 1960s. This periodisation insists that the Ireland that came before 1960 was backward, inward-looking and conservative. But where does this leave Séan Keating's confident mural depicting a brave new modern Republic? Where does it leave the history of Ireland's peat industry, initially a project of sovereign development and energy decolonisation? And how does this history speak to the present conjuncture of climate crisis, energy insecurity, and Ireland's geopolitical alignments in an uncertain world system? Energy decolonisation In 1956, Todd Andrews, who established the Turf Development Board, gave an address to the Statistical and Social Enquiry Society of Ireland entitled 'Some Precursors Of Bord Na Mona'. He gave generous praise to individuals who were 'characterised by abundance of public spirit' but whose 'endeavours were dissipated in the unpropitious social, economic and political climate of their times.' This climate was, in a word, colonialism. Some might dismiss Andrews' reading as outdated anti-colonial sentiment. But this is to gloss the material ways in which colonialism structures the economic activity of colonised countries, including after formal independence. Dependence on British coal fundamentally constrained Southern Ireland's capacity to embark on energy-intensive, industrial development. The creation of an indigenous turf industry was thus a project of energy decolonisation. Efforts to develop an indigenous energy industry were blocked not only by Britain, but by Irish coal merchants and their associated economic and political allies. When coal merchants were required to sell a certain amount of turf for every unit of coal, W. T. Cosgrave, leader of Fine Gael, argued that this was 'an interference with the citizen's ordinary right to purchase whatever commodity he requires'. The national media aligned with Cosgrave's position, raising the 'spectre of socialism'. To break the status quo, to initiate something new, required state intervention at scale. After World War Two, Bord na Móna was established with new authority and resources to purchase land, embark on 10-year development plans, and to finance these plans through long term, low-interest loans from the state. Within a decade, Ireland had its first turf-fired power stations and the development of 24 new bogs producing over a million tonnes of turf a year. A New Internationalism In 1936, an Irish delegation led by Todd Andrews visited Finland, Germany and Russia. Weismoor was the showpiece of the German turf industry and a tourist attraction for residents of Bremen and Hamburg who came to visit the large glass houses heated with surplus heat from the turf-powered station. Andrews also observed the neat and comfortable houses of those who worked the bogs. 'I made up my mind then', he writes in his memoir, 'that if ever I had the opportunity, I would recognise as a priority the value of maintaining a decent environment for people at work.' For Andrews, these visits demonstrated that turf was not a source of derision or backwardness, but the basis of modern ways of living if only the proper infrastructures and planning were put in place. Between 1950-57, the Bord na Móna research station in Kildare recruited new engineering and agricultural science graduates to experiment with techniques and technologies for exploiting turf. As this expertise developed, it was only right that Ireland hosted the first International Peat Symposium in 1954, with delegates from fifteen countries. At a time when thousands were taking to boats, the Midlands of Ireland saw internal migration in the 1950s and 1960s as the peat industry grew. Bord na Móna was the only semi-state that built housing for its workers. Frank Gibney, a modernist architect and planner, was commissioned to design 'worker villages' from Kildare to Roscommon. These housing developments represented for Andrews, 'the fulfilment of a process aimed at industrialising a rural population while at the same time improving rather than disrupting its environment'. Energy sovereignty According to Todd Andrews, Bord na Móna would not have been possible without Frank Aiken. Better known for his role as Minister for Foreign Affairs through the 1950s and 1960s, Aiken had always been a strong advocate of national industry and the development of indigenous resources. Bord na Móna needed this support. Even the ESB, the main purchaser of peat, was cool towards the industry, understanding that coal, and then oil, offered a more reliable, efficient and, ultimately, cheaper source of fuel for generating electricity. In 1956, Bord na Móna had to lay off technical workers because the ESB refused to purchase more peat. Aiken questioned the Fine Gael Minister responsible: 'Does the Minister think it good national policy to depend on imported coal and oil for the generation of electricity?' The late 1950s was a pivotal moment in Ireland's economic development. Under strong pressure from the US, the country was shifting away from indigenous industrialisation, towards an economy reliant on foreign direct investment. This would ultimately involve new forms of dependency on the US and EEC, undermining what indigenous industry existed, including in the energy sector. Sovereign development means being less dependent on powerful states, such as Britain or the US. This in turn enables a country like Ireland to act more confidently on a world stage. Frank Aiken is best known for representing Ireland at the UN, speaking in favour of the People's Republic of China, supporting decolonisation across the Third World, and pushing for nuclear non-proliferation. Such principled positions were attacked by the opposition in Ireland for putting off US industries and investment. As he advanced Ireland's policy of neutrality and multilateralism in the UN, Aiken also advanced support for newly independent countries across the Third World through solidaristic aid and cooperation. In 1964, Aer Lingus trained up to 80 African and Asian engineers and pilots in the maintenance and flying of planes, while Bord na Móna co-operated with the Government of Pakistan in initiating peat development in that country. Reclaiming the past We should always avoid the trap of nostalgia. But we also need to recognise that history is not a linear path. Despite what we are told, Irish modernity does not begin and end with entry into the EEC and the arrival of US companies. There are modernisation paths that were not taken, promises unfulfilled, that speak to us with new relevance today. At a time when Ireland is doubling down on its dependence on US fossil fuels with Shannon LNG, we should remember our historic struggle for energy sovereignty against Western imperial powers; as Ireland's energy transition is increasingly dictated by the needs of US tech companies and their data centres, we should remember the public ethos and social priorities that drove the development of Bord na Móna; and as we face a situation in which Ireland has abundant offshore wind energy and yet the highest energy prices in the EU, we should remember the political ambition and state planning required to build an indigenous turf industry from the ground up.

I found a hidden side to Rome in the 'city that never was'
I found a hidden side to Rome in the 'city that never was'

Metro

time14-05-2025

  • Metro

I found a hidden side to Rome in the 'city that never was'

When you think of Rome, you picture the Colosseum, narrow alleyways, and crowds of tourists. But as I survey my surroundings on the Viale Europa, the streets are deserted, the landscape positively futuristic. Arriving at The Hilton Rome EUR La Lama, a skyscraper with sharp rectangular angles and glass lifts, only adds to my confusion. Inside, the open-concept lobby boasts high ceilings and minimalist decor. 'Yes, you're in Rome,' the woman at the check-in desk confirms as she hands me my keycard. The view from my room is a striking bird's-eye view of a confusingly unfamiliar city. It turns out the Rome we know and love is just around the corner – 15 minutes away, within the city's ancient walls. But I'm in 'New Rome', a bizarre architectural vision of Italy's infamous fascist dictator, Benito Mussolini. Fuel your wanderlust with our curated newsletter of travel deals, guides and inspiration. Sign up here. The bombastic prime minister, who is best remembered for aligning himself with Adolf Hitler, hoped to create a new city centre that would showcase Italy's power, and celebrate 20 years of fascism. There was to be new roads and neighbourhoods built of glass and steel, an enormous concrete arch, and a huge building complex known as the Esposizione Universale di Roma or EUR, which could be constructed on the southern outskirts of the capital. Mussolini planned for New Rome to host the 1942 World Fair, where he expected to be praised for his genius. But the event was cancelled after when World World Two broke out in September 1939, leaving his grand designs half-finished. After the Germans were driven out of Rome in 1944, refugees flooded the city and tore the buildings apart for firewood. Stripped and abandoned, New Rome lay forgotten until the Italian government turned the EUR into a business district. Today, it's a corporate hub with restaurants, shops and residential areas. Walking around a 'ghost town' so close to Central Rome feels surreal. There are none of the queues that snake around the churches of the Vatican, nor the throngs jostling to throw coins in the Trevi Fountain. Along with the celebration of its Jubilee, 2025 has already been a bumper tourist year for the Eternal City. TUI has just reported a 227% increase in bookings to Rome between the April and May The papal conclave and record-time appointment of Pope Leo XIII have inspired Brits to look to Rome for their next trip, but most will miss out on its lesser-known sister. My first stop is Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana, often referred to as the Square Colosseum, which was intended to be the crown jewel of New Rome. The imposing geometric structure dominates the skyline with its tight rows of arches, a nod to the classical round Colosseum. Widely considered to be the architectural icon of the Roman 20th century, it's now the headquarters of fashion brand Fendi. Nearby is the massive dome and marble facade of the Basilica dei Santi Pietro e Paolo, designed to compete with Rome's most iconic churches, like St. Peter's Basilica. The church's plaza provides a breathtaking view of the city — you can even see the dome of St. Peter's in the distance. At Laghetto dell'EUR, a man-made lake, I see people for the first time, including locals paddle boarding — a sight at odds with the landscape. New Rome, with its dark history and rationalist architecture, can't compete with the Renaissance style of central Rome, but it does offer an intriguing glimpse into the complex past of Italian urban planning. A tour guide I meet points out that Italians prefer to preserve structures, even controversial ones, rather than erase them — a lesson in learning from the past. For example, Milan's Stazione Centrale (Central Train Station) is one of Europe's largest and busiest stations, but it's also where more than 1,000 Jews were transported to concentration camps during the war. Traces of swastikas still remain on terminal walls. Staying in New Rome is cheaper than central Roman accommodation. My stay at the Hilton starts from around €150 (£130) per night. Dining follows a similar trend: in central Rome, a simple pasta dish at popular restaurants such as Ristorante La Tavernetta 48 will set you back around €23 (£19), whereas local gems in the EUR district, like Ristorante Il Fungo, serve comparable dishes for closer to €10 (£8.65). Lesser-known New Rome also provides respite from crowds, as the city centre battles with over tourism. When the Trevi fountain reopened after restoration works in December 2024, it did so with a new queuing system, due to so many crowds gathering around the monument. Rome will be exceptionally busy in 2025, as it marks the Holy Year of Jubilee. The Italian capital is tipped to become the epicentre of a global pilgrimage, with more than 35 million people expected to flock to it over the course of the year. Of course, there is still plenty to do in 'old' Rome, as it were. After a shower, spaghetti, and sleep, I jump on a metro, and within 15 minutes I'm in the city centre. A Vespa tour with Dearoma Tours (from £84 per person) is a good choice for weary feet. Zip swiftly through busy streets to the , bypassing the tantrums, tourists, and toddlers. My driver, Fabio, had a penchant for wheelies — the more petrified I was, the more he ramped things up. But it all added to the fun. Zip swiftly along busy streets to the Colosseum, the Circus Maximus, and one of my favourite stops: the Aventine Hill's Giardino degli Aranci, the Garden of Oranges. The garden, also known as Savello Park, is home to the Keyhole of the Knights of Malta. Peer through it, and you'll see St. Peter's Basilica perfectly framed by hedges. We end up at Piazza Navona with its fountains and bustling cafés, which feels like the beating heart of the city. I am told to quench my thirst at one of the many Nasone street fountains. Literally translated to 'large nose', they get their name from the design which features a large water spout. Be warned: drinking from one is a skill. A local kindly showed me how to press the lever just enough for a perfect stream, but I failed spectacularly – and repeatedly – spraying water all over myself and drawing gleeful laughter from passers-by. For lunch its hard to look past Aleph Rome, a bank turned boutique hotel that serves excellent shrimp and asparagus gnocchi. You can still see traces of its financial past in the architecture – vault doors and grand marble pillars. Luxury abounds at the Cavalieri Waldorf Astoria (we're talking £400 per night), where famous guests like Elizabeth Taylor and Leonardo DiCaprio have enjoyed Roman holidays. In the hotel's main lobby, I was stunned by the vast art collection — think Tiepolo, Venetian masters, and antique tapestries, all displayed in what feels like a private gallery. More Trending After a long day, I head back to my hotel in New Rome. As I leave the crowds behind me, I feel like the only tourist in on this secret. After sightseeing in Rome, I head to the coast for some R&R. Just an hour's flight away, picturesque Sardinia takes less time to get to than travelling from one side of London to another. A round-trip flight costs around £70-£150, depending on the season. To get my bearings, I join a tour around Cagliari, Sardinia's capital, where I explore Cathedral de Cagliari, with its stunning frescoes and an intricate baroque altar. The bustling main market is filled with fresh produce, handmade goods, and local delicacies. I gorge on bruschetta and seafood salads and carbonara, which will set you back £15-25 at the quaint and charming Sa Marina restaurant, which is located in the maze of charming allies that make up this town. My base is the quiet Conrad Chia Laguna Hotel on the island's southern coast, overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea and surrounded by rolling hills. The hotel is a haven for foodies. There are a few dining options: Sa Mesa, where I try handmade pasta paired with Sardinian wines, and Il Ginepro, the resort's main dining spot that serves a buffet-style feast of freshly grilled fish to Mediterranean salads. For a truly special dining experience, guests should take to the water for a sunset boat cruise (£100 per person) to sip on champagne and drink in the views. Of course, you can't come to Sardinia without trying its famous cheese. Around 1.5 million people live in Sardinia, but according to locals, they are outnumbered by sheep — 3 million of the furry creatures, in fact. I try cheese-making at Medau Sa Stiddiosa, an off-track spot best travelled to in a 4×4 to see the magic happen (around £50 per person). The tour ends with a meal of antipasti, grapes, and cheese on a rustic cottage veranda overlooking the hills. Dominique Hines was a guest of the Hilton Rome Eur La Lama. Rates start from £167 per night for a 'King Guest double room, based on two adults sharing. In Sardinia, she stayed at the Conrad Chia Laguna Sardinia. Rates from £318 for a Deluxe Room with double occupancy. This article was originally published on 16 January 2025 and has been updated to reflect recent developments. Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: Is it safe to travel to Crete? Tourist warning after 5.9 magnitude earthquake hits Greek island MORE: 'Destination dupes' are more popular than ever – these are the best for 2025 MORE: Spain's unknown 'Garden of Europe' is 27°C in May — fly there for £18

What's next for Philadelphia's Wanamaker Organ and Grant Court Eagle when Macy's closes?
What's next for Philadelphia's Wanamaker Organ and Grant Court Eagle when Macy's closes?

CBS News

time18-03-2025

  • General
  • CBS News

What's next for Philadelphia's Wanamaker Organ and Grant Court Eagle when Macy's closes?

Walk inside the doors of the soon-to-be closed Macy's department store in Center City Philadelphia and you can still hear that magical sound — the Wanamaker Organ. But not for much longer. Many have asked, what happens to the Wanamaker Organ and the Grand Court Eagle when the store closes? They are some of Philadelphia's most-prized possessions. The one-ton bronze bird has ministered over millions of meetings since 1911. And the organ — its breath through 28,000 pipes — roars to life twice daily from Monday to Saturday. The instrument, initially part of the 1904 World Fair in Saint Louis, has rumbled sales racks — with its soaring tones, and then, its colorful dynamics fade back to nothing more than a whisper. Recently, the upward-looking crowds have been building in size as things wind down, nearing the end. Appreciation fills the room, a place soon to be a little quieter. Fred Astmann, of Cherry Hill, New Jersey, is a walking encyclopedia. He has a knowledge and database showing a command of the organ's history. CBS News Philadelphia was invited to join Astmann on a tour. More than a half-dozen people went through some of the organ's pipe chambers: rooms and rooms of thousands and thousands of pipes across numerous store floors. The chambers are a special place, more like a museum: a tribute to the many hands that have labored on the instrument for its 114 years in Philadelphia. "It's just so enormous and overwhelming that to play music on this instrument is an experience like no other," Rudy Lucente, of Lansdale, said. Lucente, a substitute organist, has played the Wanamaker for 47 years. He calls it a privilege. His dream is to reach the 50-year mark. He remains hopeful about a part of his life that remains as exciting as when it began. "That's perhaps the best answer to your question. It never gets old," Lucente said. "It's the same thrill the first time I played it. And back then, I was scared out of my mind." There is an intense amount of work that goes into maintaining the organ – a massive instrument that cannot be moved. The Friends of the Wanamaker have cared for it for 34 years. The questions about its future, the eagle, and other cherished traditions, like the Macy's Christmas Light Show and Dickens' Village, come up repeatedly . "That's a real question here, how much is going to remain?" Astmann said. "How many questions can you come up with, what's going to happen here?" Since the store's closing was announced, answers about the valuables inside have been hard to come by. The organ and eagle are protected. Each is listed on Philadelphia's Register of Historic Places. According to the Grand Court nomination materials from Philadelphia's Department of Planning and Development: "The Wanamaker Building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1971 and the Philadelphia Register of Historic Places in 1974, and was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1978. The Wanamaker Eagle, an iconic sculpture located prominently within the Grand Court, was added to the Philadelphia Register of Historic Places as a historic object in 2001." A city spokesperson emailed the following to CBS News Philadelphia: "Being listed on the Philadelphia Register of Historic Places means that any changes to the Grand Court that require a building permit will also require approval from the Philadelphia Historical Commission. The eagle statue and the organ's two-story organ pipe case are part of the Grand Court." The organ and eagle are "symbolic to driving people to that space" and its future, said Philadelphia City Councilman Mark Squilla. In an interview, he said TF Cornerstone, the property's owner, has given the city assurances. "They have committed to keeping the organ and the eagle as part of their renovations," Squilla said. "They were all even excited ... to try to have it that the organ plays every day, a daily event for the organ." TF Cornerstone, which will own the organ once Macy's leaves, did not respond to an email requesting comment for this report. Squilla said a tenant has been identified for the Chestnut Street side of the building, with construction beginning once Macy's is out. He said other retail tenants and other uses are under consideration for the Market Street side. Squilla said the Christmas Light Show and Dickens' Village are a different issue. Macy's acquired both when it took over the store, he said. "We have to convince Macy's to sell it to them [TF Cornerstone] or sell it to the city so we can preserve it. Those conversations are ongoing," Squilla said. Macy's did not provide specifics in response to questions CBS News Philadelphia asked. Meanwhile, many who have visited Macy's since the closure was announced are apprehensive about the future. "Just growing up as a child," Donna, from Erdenheim, said. "Coming down with my parents, for the light show, hearing the organ play. It would be a shame to lose it. There is a lot of history – it is special." This, as people like Astmann, go about their work – hoping to continue giving tours and sharing love of the Wanamaker organ and the eagle. "And I'll be back again this afternoon," Astmann said to building security. A special musical presentation, called "Make a Joyful Noise" is set for Saturday. The program begins at 9 a.m. with the national anthem and features eight Wanamaker Organ assistants. Admission is free. Workers and sources say the store is expected to close Sunday.

The first flying cow arrived in St. Louis 95 years ago
The first flying cow arrived in St. Louis 95 years ago

Yahoo

time19-02-2025

  • General
  • Yahoo

The first flying cow arrived in St. Louis 95 years ago

ST. LOUIS – The City of St. Louis can be known for a lot of things, from gooey butter cake, the Gateway Arch, and the 1904 World Fair, but did you know we're also the first city to have a cow arrive by plane? On Feb. 18, 1930, a Guernsey cow named Elm Farm Ollie traveled from Bismarck, Missouri, to St. Louis—a total of 72 miles—on a Ford Tri-Motor, Umpqua Dairy said. This trip marked the first time a cow took flight in addition to the first cow that was milked mid-flight, according to Square Cow. It wasn't all for attention, partially. Beyond the publicity stunt, the 1,000-pound Ollie was also helping farmers and researchers understand an effect, if any, high altitude had on cow milk and production. How much more snow is St. Louis getting? She was allegedly chosen for the mission due to how much milk Elm Farm Ollie had. According to the San Diego Air & Space Museum, she produced 24 quarts of milk in-flight, which was parachuted to the ground for spectators. One of those spectators was allegedly Charles Lindbergh, who flew the 'Spirit of St. Louis' airplane. Following the flight, she was nicknamed the 'Sky Queen.' Ollie only lived to be 10 years old, but she is remembered every Feb. 18 at the National Mustard Museum in Wisconsin, which is the home of the man who milked Elm Farm Ollie on the flight—Elsworth W. Bunce. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

Uplifting fashion: the secret to lingerie house Cadolle's long success
Uplifting fashion: the secret to lingerie house Cadolle's long success

The Guardian

time09-02-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Guardian

Uplifting fashion: the secret to lingerie house Cadolle's long success

Down a passageway on the Rue Saint-Honoré, in Paris, sandwiched between the startling glamour of Chanel and Saint Laurent, there is a glass door stuck with peeling photographs that make up the Cadolle family tree. This family business has been making corsets since the late 1800s, with current clients including designers such as John Galliano (who hired them to make corsets for his Maison Margiela Artisanal couture show) and stars such as Beyoncé and Lady Gaga. Poupie Cadolle, now 78, welcomes me into the mirrored salon, 'Welcome!' and arranges herself elegantly beside me on a fuchsia sofa, re-tying her silk neck scarf to tell their story. 'It's a very long story!' she warns, leaning in. The business is now run by Poupie's daughter, Patricia, while Poupie concentrates on the couture fittings, but 'It started with my great-great-grandmother Herminie Cadolle, who was a very strong personality. She was a feminist and an anarchist. She spent a lot of time in prison.' Upon release, Herminie 'decided to liberate the woman from the corset, and she patented the very first bra ever made, in 1889, presenting it at the World Fair where they built the Eiffel Tower.' She points to a high shelf where this, the very first bra ever made, watches over the room: imperious, cream, covetable. The trick was elastic straps. They allowed women to live more functional lives, unbound by corsetry and, as women reshaped their bodies and place in society, the business grew. Poupie learned how to fit and design first from her mother, then from two mentors in the 1980s, Monsieur Bernardin, dressing nude dancers at the Crazy Horse Saloon, and the couturier Azzedine Alaïa, 'Genius men who were in love with the women's figure.' Much has changed, much has remained, 'but the bodies are completely different today. Women have no more waists! Because women don't wear girdles any more, so the women never trained their waistline to be thin.' She's seen 'many, many breasts and they are all so different.' When she started in the boutique, the largest size they stocked was a B cup. Today, 'I have a customer with a K cup. And in a lingerie show I saw a booth doing an N cup!' She motions with her hands. Her regular customers pay from €900 for a custom bra. They fly in from the US or Middle East, and sit here in her velvet-curtained room, and tell her about their life. 'I have to know who she is, how she feels about her body – sometimes she hates herself. I have to know what she needs. What they usually say they need is, 'A good bra.' Which means, first it looks good and second that she doesn't need to remove it as soon as she gets home.' Downstairs, a messy atelier is lined with boxes and wooden plan chests, each containing customers' patterns – among them, four young women chuckle and sew carefully. It's highly technical work, despite the distractions of blue silk and slippery lace. Poupie loves lace and mourns lingerie of the past, mourns a bow, mourns a ruffle. 'In some countries we are losing the essence of being a woman!' she tuts. 'Bras or lingerie that is boring? That looks like a bandage when you cut your finger? For us it's very frustrating.' There has been, she thinks, 'A fight against lingerie, because it was used as a symbol of oppression – women thought that they didn't need pretty things to wear underneath to seduce men. But forgot they could still wear them for themselves!' She's watched (and slowly adapted to) the popularity of the thong and with it the rise of the bottom. 'Working with Galliano last year for the show, they were adding fake bottoms, extreme ones, and since then I've seen in the street in Paris recently, some girls, not always that chic, with fake ones too.' She chuckles remembering a story about a pop star (redacted) she made lingerie for, who 'was singing on a show and her bottom blew up! The implant exploded!' Cadolle is happy to make 'porno chic' lingerie, as long as the fabrics are exquisite. 'When it's beautiful you can get away with it, if the woman herself behaves!' As Poupie attends to a fitting (should the buttocks be covered by lace?) my mum messages – was I going to buy a bra? 'No, they cost €900,' I replied. 'You could pay someone to carry your breasts around for a year for that,' she gasped. No need – in the UK we're lucky, says Poupie, because we have Marks & Spencer. 'Their bras are so good – technically they are wonderful. They are boring, but they're good, and very innovative, with things like the uplift for the bottom.' Does Cadolle do uplift for the bottom too? 'Of course! I reshape the body completely, the way they want to be reshaped. That's what I love to do.' She spoils her customers, she smiles. 'Because I love them. I really do.' She leans forward. 'Now, would you like to meet my daughter?' Round the corner, past Dior, Patricia greets us behind the counter of the boutique, where they stock the ready-to-wear lines. 'We never agree with each other,' Patricia explains (her silk scarf is barely visible above the collar of her shirt), 'but we always find the in-between. That's really the point of working through generations – when you are young, you don't need structure. So you don't realise it's very technical, you just look at the visual effect. And she teaches me the final result.' Behind her a wall of drawers contains hundreds of pairs of knickers, nestled together like birds. 'In a regular business you don't dare say what you think, whereas of course, with mother and daughter, you have to!' Poupie nods. 'We are not doing a career, we are just doing our work, to improve the products and the knowhow the family has grown.' Patricia grew up in the atelier – that she'd end up here, she says, was inevitable. 'But now she sees much further than I do' says Poupie. 'I'm more in the moment. She's more in the future. She has more, comment on peut dire – une analyse différente?' When she was a teenager, says Poupie, she fought terribly with her mother, who had banned her from wearing tights. 'She said she thought it was vulgar. But she was smart because she knew that the tights would ruin our business. They removed girdles, garter belts, merry widows, everything that would hold the stockings. And then when women started wearing trousers, it killed the lingerie business. So now all that's left is bras.' With the popularity of soft cups and comfort being prioritised, could they be disappearing, too? 'They are trying! But then we wait.' Yes, says, Patricia. 'The woman has such different bodies all her life. And everything changes, the bust, the volume – the older you get, the more it needs to be supported.' The luxury goods market declines each year – how will a 136-year-old couture lingerie brand adapt? 'The market is shrinking, but we're still here, because we're still loyal to who we are, and what we represent.' While other luxury brands, they say, have tried to be competitive and lower their prices, 'We didn't, because we are very small and because we are not able to do a bra with bad lace.' Poupie shudders gently at the thought. 'That doesn't work, that's not Cadolle.'

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store