The sun shone for our final outing. which is lucky because we were out and about on the streets of South London, considering Women and Work, and Working Girls –
From poorly paid piece work in the Nineteen century, to poorly paid piece work in the Nineteen Seventies.
We walked through Little Dorrit Playground, and sat in the beautiful spring sunshine of Red Cross Garden, coveting the almshouses of Ocavia Hill’s deserving poor.
We walked the same streets that women known as ‘Winchester Geese’ would have walked and worked, paying taxes to the Bishop of Winchester for the privilege, and we visited the site their unconsecrated bones exhumed in the thousands from a Crossrail building site, across the road from the Boot and Flogger pub.
The streets were full of tiny dramas; we passed a powder blue Virgin Mary in her pebble dashed grotto, where a a dog was tied to the railings and a woman posed for a photographer. Around the corner a young man held a lustrous chestnut wig at arm’s length. As he brushed it out it caught the sun and swished like the tail of a pony.
We couldn’t have fit much more into a morning, the words are still coming. (You can read them on the page:’Women+Work2 Winchester Geese’)