Serving the Teesside Business Community | 9
Harry Pearson:
The Business Buzz
Teesside-born author Harry Pearson’ s exclusive Tees Business column – in this issue, Harry rekindles fond memories of his regular visits to Linthorpe Road in his youth...
Tees retail revolution is a real Turnip
Linthorpe Road in the 1970s was home to the likes of Upton’ s, Romer Parrish’ s, Hamilton’ s and Fearnley’ s – but times have changed.
Pictures courtesy of Middlesbrough Libraries
When I was at primary school my friend‘ Turnip’ Turner’ s dad worked at Upton’ s department store. At Christmas that had major consequences because Mr Turnip got a staff discount on toys.
In 1970 Turnip found a brand new Raleigh Chopper Mk1 under the tree. It was blue and black just like Boro’ s away top.
Meanwhile my Dad – who worked at Redpath Dorman Long and therefore likely got a staff discount on girders – had to inform me that Santa Claus’ budget didn’ t run to bikes with gear-sticks and I would have to make do with a Hot Wheels set instead.
I wasn’ t too disappointed, I’ d been eyeing up the Hot Wheels in Romer Parrish’ s for months. Romer Parrish’ s toy shop was the go-to destination for kids in Middlesbrough on Saturday mornings.
My mother always saved it for last, making me sit on a stool in Binns while she tried on what seemed like 700 different skirts and I tried not to get caught peeking at the 18-hour girdles( which in the days before the internet was as close to sexy thrills as youngsters got, let me tell you).
Romer Parrish’ s was both heaven and hell for a child; heaven because it had everything in it you wanted; hell because you only had enough pocket money to buy one of them. In my case usually anything that glowed in the dark.
Upton’ s closed down years ago and came back as Psyche, while Romer Parrish’ s is
about to be reborn as the Fork in Road restaurant and community café.
There’ s been a lot of re-purposing of shops over the last few years on Teesside. Hairdressers have become pubs, DIY stores gin bars and, more recently, it was announced that the old BHS will be reopening housing a branch of upmarket fashion store Flannels.
There surely can’ t have been a better time to be a thread-conscious Teesside chap.
Back when I had some pretence to looking vaguely snappy you went to Lord John or a place called Sergeant Pepper that was opposite the bus station. Aside from those and an old school tailors called Wiseman’ s over by Bedford Street that had two-tone trousers and button-down shirts left over from the 1960s, you were cooked.
Music fans were better served. I still have what I call records and my daughter insists on calling‘ vinyl’ with sticky price labels from Hamilton’ s of Teesside and Alan Fearnley.
What shops they were, Hamilton’ s had musical instruments downstairs( inevitably in the late‘ 70s some rock chancer in head-totoe stonewashed denim would be playing Carry On Wayward Son on a wire-legged keyboard, pausing periodically to arrange his long hair along the shoulders of his jacket, as if girls were watching) and records upstairs, the aisles usually boasting at least a couple of Northern soul boys who liked to use the lino floor to practice their spins.
Fearnley’ s was up Linthorpe Road.“ The largest selection of Reggae and Soul records on Teesside” his advert said, though the bearded Fearnley looked more like a Van Der Graaf Generator man.
Wedged between a photographer’ s studio and The Empire pub, Fearnley’ s was narrow, long, dark and dusty, more like an alleyway than a shop, which made it all the more appealing to us teenagers.
Both record shops are long gone. But that’ s the way things go.
My mother harks back to the days when Binns had a chamber orchestra playing in the palm court and my dad claims you haven’ t been able to get a decent sandwich in the town since The Little Pork Shop closed down, or a top class jap cake since Sparks shut its doors for the last time, but it seems to me that there’ s never been a better time to be a Teesside shopper.
I still miss that Raleigh Chopper, mind.