Milner & Webb

Dear Unilocalers. I am the proud owner of a pair of full-​on designer shoes… for the first and perhaps only time in my life. Now I’m not materialistic. I don’t care for labels. My suede high street Pied a Terre classic black wedges from a branch of Office in London are likely to become a family heirloom, should I bear a daughter who ends up with size 5 – 6 feet. For me it is not about having something expensive, or famous-​named. It’s about how timeless it is.
Well, that daughter, should she occur (and let’s face it, should she have the same taste in shoes as me — who knows? She might prefer a pair of Caterpillars or Timberlands), will also be inheriting the absolute bargainous pieces of wonderment I found myself the lucky owner of a couple of Christmases ago… I’m there, browsing, when the name on an insole next door to me looks rather familiar. And this is such luck, people, seriously, the very definition of serendipity. I wouldn’t have even been browsing Milner & Webb were it not for the sign by the antique phones that said, «For assistance, please go next door to Milner & Webb.» I was looking at the phones as a gift for a family friend.
Ginas. A pair of Ginas. Not so many years ago, I was stood, balls of my feet in agony, working in a designer shoe shop, selling these bad boys to women with vastly disposable incomes. I loved flogging the Ginas because they were £300-£500 a piece and my commission would be stonking. But I never liked them. Too blingy, too garish and far too Saturday night TV. But these vintage beauties next to me? Black. Strappy. That word again. Classic. That other one. Timeless. The price? £40. What I paid (oh thank you, early Christmas present!)? £35. And not only that, they knocked £20 off the antique phone I decided to get as a present for the family. Plus friendly service. Milner & Webb, we love you. We love you a ridiculous amount. Please, don’t go anywhere.

Did you ever wonder what happened to all the crap you’d throw away into the skip on a sunny Sunday afternoon? Well, I can tell you. It ended up in Milner & Webb’s.
At least, that’s the only way I can imagine they ended up with half of the stuff they stock. It’s all so random. It’s difficult to describe exactly what you can find in here, because it seems to change every time I visit. Suffice to say that walking in is like strolling through old memories, as you encounter all of the artifacts and objects you used in the past.
The prices are a bit high, as is usual for these sorts of niche places, but I imagine you could probably haggle if you were up for it and actually wanted, say, an old crystal soda spritzer.