Times change: saying goodbye to a beloved part of our heritage

AS a cardholding Southlander, the pending closure of ‘‘H&J’s’’ cuts to the core — and that is the core of someone who only shopped there, let alone worked there or was a supplier to the store. I can’t imagine how it must be for those people.

Growing up in rural Southland — and, heck, even since leaving Southland — every trip to Invercargill (or Te Anau or Gore, to be honest) was incomplete without a stop at H&J’s.

Oh, the good farming dollars that have been spent in there.

It is just, you see, that kind of shop where you can always find something.

A gift for Mother’s Day? Grandma? A wedding? Got it.

A pair of shoes (without fail a pair of shoes), perfume on special, those awkwardly sized jeans that are the only ones Southland men of a certain age will wear, a reliable supply of sturdy underwear.

It was where you went for your ball jewellery, fancy stockings, clutches and fascinators.

And your clothes. Stores within stores of clothes. This one for the young people, that one for the fellas, another for the children, but mostly for the good ladies of Southland.

Of course, there is so much more that better Southlanders than me will know and remember.

Shopping at H&J’s was bit of a rite of passage in a Southland lass’ life.

Working hard . . . Staff work together to clear water from the store after a hailstorm in 2010.

You went with your mum until you were old enough to drive yourself to town, and the first few times shopping alone there, doing jobs for Mum, cruising the aisles, were quite the business.

Then eventually you started going with your mum again.

The store itself is an experience. Enter through those big glass doors on Tay St and you are in a sanctuary. With its high ceilings, chandeliers, lifts and wide corner staircases, it has a special light and a special air.

Park in the building across the road, walk over the Skybridge, peering down Esk

St, wander through the furniture section, ride the escalator down, scanning the ground floor for anyone you might recognise.

And who hasn’t gone in just to use the toilets? So fancy.

The Copper Kettle back in the day was THE place to eat. You practically had to fight for a seat.

Whack a tray down on the metal bar shelf, slide it along, collect a cinnamon oyster, a savoury, maybe a club sandwich if you were being fancy, a milkshake and always, always, a cheese roll.

The Copper Kettle’s cheese rolls had no equal.

I understand things might have changed Copper Kettlewise, but it remains a happy memory.

Department stores, it seems, no matter how beloved, are rapidly becoming just happy memories.

They are of a time, and times, they are always changing, and change times must.

I caught a ride on a recent Kmart run from Dunedin. There was no time for H&J’s. I was upset at the time. I am upset more now. I am also part of the problem.

We were so very lucky to have experienced H&J’s, and now part of our collective Southland history is likely being deleted.

If Kaye’s Bakery ever closes (God forbid), I may have to hand my card in.