Dire warnings about Union Street becoming an ungovernable, ugly wild west.
Aberdeen planners confess they’re powerless to stop illegal building work because they’ve no cash to fight rogue landlords. A sorry tale, given the existing, heartbreaking state of the place.
Meanwhile, the taskforce set up to regenerate our central spine is trying to persuade the boss of the St Nicholas Markies to attend their crunch meeting next week. Chairman Bob Keiller is rightly anxious to find out if the store’s future is secure, concerned about rumours to expand the Union Square branch and possible demands for it to be exclusive. Mr Keiller goes so far as to “implore” the Markies chief to resist such a condition.
The loss of the long-established, flagship shop would indeed be the last nail in the coffin of our wonderful Union Street. The Silver Mile, the jewel in our granite crown; a once magnificent, dead-straight stretch of stunning architecture, commerce and retail, from Holburn Junction to the Citadel.
Ancient Aberdonians might recall the debate when Union Square was first mooted in the early 1980s. Many city councillors warned it could spell the death knell for shops on Union Street, as trade haemorrhaged into the new complex.
No, no, quoth the Square Brigade. There would be easy access between the two, via the stairs in the Trinity Centre and beside Boots – aye, if ye’re in trainin’ as a mountaineer.
In fact, we went to one or the other. And these days, given Union Street’s desolation, it’s usually the other. I suspect some visitors arriving by train or bus never get anywhere near our main street.
Memories of many shopping trips past
It was a nostalgic but sad lunch me and my mates had the other day when we regaled each other with memories of the golden age of the Silver Mile.
The top end had the swishier shops, including the wonderful cavern of a foodstore that was Collie’s – the aroma of coffee beans bursting forth into the street. Posho wifies’ favourite Watt & Grant; then, great excitement when we got a Jaeger store, not that we could afford to buy anything, so extortionate were their prices.
January 1969 came the shopping day I’ll never forget. On the hunt in the sales for a new winter coat, did the usual: starting in George Street with the Coopie, Reid and Pearson’s, Isaac Benzies, Markies, then up Union Street. Zilch I liked, mainly because I’ve long arms and most sleeves ended at my elbow.
Near greetin’ with disappointment, I keeked in the window of Jaeger’s as I passed. On a model, my dream coat: sort of military style, black, gold buttons. But the best thing was the price. It was £15, reduced to £7 – at today’s prices that’s about £135 down to £70.
Tried it on. Fit a dream. Sleeves the perfect length.
I asked the quine why it had been reduced. Came the perfect answer: “Must have been a mistake when it as made. Sleeves are far too long.” Wham, bam, thank you ma’am.
Oh, to be able to scour the wonderful shops of George Street and Union Street and find those hidden bargains once again.
Moreen Simpson is a former assistant editor of the Evening Express and The Press & Journal, and started her journalism career in 1970
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