The Bonmarche news is troubling, but there’s one shop I really can’t bear to part with

And so we continue to live in troubled times. God, it’s boring isn’t it. When are we going to have fun again? When will the good times start rolling?

In amongst the political mire of Brexit last week came the news that Bonmarche had gone into administration. To be quite honest this news felt like old news: how could Bonmarche survive if Debenhams couldn’t?

The news didn’t affect me emotionally in the same way the Pizza Express wobble did just a few weeks ago, after all, I don’t have a gutful of Bonmarche memories, in fact I don’t think I’ve been in one, which, before you jump to conclusions doesn’t mean to say I don’t feel appalled on behalf of their staff.

However, somewhere I have mooched around for years, usually not buying, but happily looking, touching, wishing and wanting is the Conran Shop and now that’s having a precarious moment too, with Sir Terence bringing in advisers to find a new financial partner as the business battles today’s choppy retail waters.

At the risk of sounding hysterical, losing the Conran Shop would break my heart. The old man used to take me there when we were dating back in the mid-80s; I thought he was trying to tell me he was gay, but then I realised he just loved furniture and he still does. Lots of men drool over motorbikes and fast cars and so does Geof, but he will also get palpitations looking at a really beautifully designed sofa and I can lose him for hours in the lighting department.

Some couples like to spend their leisure time going for long country yomps or hiking up mountains; the Éclair-Powells like a nice mosey round the Conran Shop.

Don’t get me wrong. I love nature, I love popping outdoors to see how the ivy is doing and how many conkers I can find, but I also love looking at cushions and vases, and one does not preclude the other.

My preferred store is the original on Fulham Road, “Michelin House”, the handsome old tyre depot with its stained glass windows and circa-1911 decorative tiles depicting racing cars. It’s the one with the flower stall outside and the snazzy sea-food restaurant where well-heeled folk eat shellfish from those tiered silver cake stands. I’ve never eaten there. It remains a dream: my partner might be a fan of Sir Terence’s wares but he just doesn’t share my prawn cravings.

A lot of people will accuse the Conran Shop of being elitist, and maybe it is? But people will always want beautiful things and it’s not offensively expensive – you can pop in and buy an elaborately wrapped soap or a very nice jar of pickled onions in balsamic vinegar for under a tenner, and sometimes the little treats are the ones that mean the most. Plus, their staff members are the nicest in London.

Over the years, any flush times chez Éclair-Powell have been celebrated with much prized Conran items. There have been watches and leather goods, a certain shelving unit and the odd desk. We even bought Conran Christmas crackers when things were particularly buoyant and yes they always cracked properly and the hats didn’t instantly rip, (not that I want to wear a paper Christmas hat for months on end, I’m not mad). What I’m trying to say is that now and again, a bit of luxury when you can afford it is a lovely thing, otherwise you are just working to pay taxes, and how dull is that? Life can’t be all stick and no carrot.

Personally I like looking round the house and remembering how we bought a certain cushion or a particularly nice lamp because Geof had completed a difficult job or I’d managed to finish writing a book.

Most of us have been driven online by cost and convenience and who can blame us? The Conran Shop is one of the few places I still enjoy visiting in person. For starters, it’s not a clothes shop, and the joy of buying something for the house is that I don’t have to stand in a changing room trying not to cry. Yes these linen napkins will need ironing, but look at the pretty colours and I can never grow out of a napkin.

In all honesty, anything we’ve ever bought from Conran is still giving us good value. His stuff is built to last, the chair in the sitting room may need recovering but only because it’s so comfortable that I’ve almost worn through the fabric, light bulbs may need changing but the lamp still works and that 20-year-old vase is still going strong, it’s only the flowers that go off.

I have huge respect for all the work Terence Conran has done over the years. It’s mostly thanks to him that we give our homes some of the love they deserve. Fingers crossed his wonderful stores live on, because the idea of the Conran Shop being yet another retail casualty is unbearably sad.