A village cries and a pixie leaves
So another Pixie leaves the magic garden as Albert Hill Street’s chic boutique for mini Freya’s and Archie’s shuts it’s doors next week.
Sad news for those of us who gulped at the price of clothing designed primarily to be thrown up on and in, grown out of in seconds and rolled around in mud until it was too dirty even for eBay.
Didsbury Son was one of Pixie’s first customers and probably one of its least frequent; but I will miss the lovely staff, the minimal decor and the challenge of steering Didsbury Wife to the Post Office without catching sight of it on the way in or out.
I will miss the cheery key in the door with the cry of how great the Sale was at Pixies , how beautiful Didsbury Son will look in whatever lurks expensively in the bag and how much we have saved.
Sales at expensive boutiques to me are like bankers turning down bonuses. It only brings them near enough to the average focus so you can clearly see the finger being extended in your direction.
So we have a Didsbury Village dilemma. The allegedly underhand doings at Coco Rio have seen the premises handed back. Pizza Hut’s blackened doors are no nearer being a John Lewis Express and there is a soon to be gap next Rumpus.
Can we squeeze another supermarket or coffee chain in (The Didsbury now proudly boasts Costa Coffee which means Whitbreads are slowly surrounding Nero), a new charity shop, an Estate Agents, a bank or is this time for the new independents to regrace the village ?
As a footnote, I will miss Pixie, although I must admit that when I spend a night out’s money on children’s clothing it needs to be drip dry, static and have the club badge over his heart.