Lewis's - THE place to shop

BT looks back at Broadmead's top store of the 1960s

Never mind the confusion in 1980 when the John Lewis Partnership moved in (and then on to Cribbs Causeway), to most Bristolians it’s always been Lewis’s – Broadmead’s shopping mecca.

After the store had opened its doors in 1957, the Portland stone building with the appearance of an ocean liner became the reason for visiting Broadmead.

Despite the company’s northern roots it was felt that a big store like Lewis’s would bring a touch of sophistication to the bomb- damaged city.

Just like television’s Grace Brothers, it sold virtually everything you could want – from washing machines to Wilton carpets, wool to wine gums.

Advertisements claimed the store would “challenge comparison with any in the world”.

And to add to the excitement, Lewis’s departments offered a brand new shopping experience – self-selection.

Eight storeys high and air conditioned, Lewis’s had taken three years to build and one year to fit out.

Situated in a commanding position – the gateway to Broadmead – the building had cost a cool £3 million, a lot of money in those days.

Before it opened, 3,000 people applied for the 800 jobs on offer.

On the first day an estimated 100,000 people swarmed through the store’s 200 departments.

Many had queued all night.

Just to add to the fun, Lewis’s had nine lifts (with attendants) and 10 escalators.

And on the sixth floor, customers would find a roof garden with fountains and a restaurant where you could relax and look out over the city.

After Lewis’s arrived, Bristolians started flocking into town in droves.

It was the place to shop.

But many older residents – those who had shopped in Castle Street/Wine Street before the war – were wary of this brash northern newcomer.

Others feared that, with Jones’s department store (it’s now Debenhams) already operating nearby, the city might become “over-shopped”.

And because it had been built over a plague burial pit (in fact, part of St James’s cemetery), the store was rumoured to be haunted.

But, once established, Lewis’s turned into an unqualified success.

Who could resist the wonderful food department on the ground floor, which sold such unheard of exotica as pumpernickel and, wait for it, poppadoms?

On the same floor you could buy photo equipment, jewellery, gloves, haberdashery, stockings, tobaccos and perfumery.

The basement, which contained the household department, was a handyman’s

DIY haven.

The upper floors provided a wonderful array of luxury goods – a huge stock of furniture, carpets, television and radio sets.

People said it was like being in paradise.

Boasting the largest fashion display in the city, Lewis’s had more than 50 fitting rooms.

And in the children’s department, the baby section featured pink hide chairs arranged beside the counters so customers could sit in comfort.

There was also a bank (with a special low counter for children), a library, a guinea hat bar and a men’s hairdressing shop, where a short back and sides would cost you two shillings and sixpence (25p).

Lewis’s also became the place to dine, with the Pageant restaurant and cafe on the fourth floor always busy.

But the piéce de rèsistance was the roof garden restaurant with its snug red chairs, fountain, pool, rose beds and climbers tumbling over timber trellises.

Protective glass walls surrounded the garden which commanded views of the entire city to the Dundry hills and beyond.

Plaques on the handrails indicated particular points of interest.

As Lewis’s intended, it was the perfect spot for weary shoppers to enjoy a relaxing tea or coffee amid the green leaves, flowers and soft summer breezes.

Lewis’s demanded high standards from its employees, but nobody was complaining – pay and conditions were better than in most other stores.

Junior staff were issued with meal tickets which entitled them to a full lunch for just sixpence, and afternoon tea for just threepence.

Throughout the Sixties business boomed for Lewis’s.

Customers loved the gimmicks – the “smasher day sales”, fashion shows, competitions and especially the live models who would lie on a large bed in the windows.

But times were a-changing.

As car ownership became the norm so competition sprang up in the shape of superstores and out-of-town shopping.

By the 1970s, Lewis’s overheads were spiralling. Staff levels were cut to 400, plus 100 part-timers, and many departments, including the roof garden, were closed.

In 1980, Lewis’s sold out to the John Lewis Partnership (a totally different company with a different name) in a £7 million deal.

It was a sad day and, as they say, the end of an era.

Since then the flagship building has been home to Bentalls and House of Fraser.

Budget clothing store Primark will be moving in shortly.