Editor’s Note: We are delighted to welcome back Linda Ahnert of Old Lyme, who writes an occasional column for LymeLine. She says in the covering note she sent with the article, “It’s that time of year when we start dreaming of Christmases like the ones we used to know. For those of us who grew up in the greater Hartford area, our memories include visions of G. Fox & Co.” We are sure quite a number of readers fall into that category, but regardless we hope you all enjoy this wonderful trip down Memory Lane!
London has Harrods, Paris has Galeries Lafayette and, once upon a time, Hartford had G. Fox & Co. Although this grand old store shuttered its doors many years ago, for those of us who grew up in the Hartford burbs, G. Fox & Co. was the “center of Connecticut living.”
Today stores like G. Fox are a vanishing breed—people first moved on to malls and now shop online. But if you are of a certain age, you remember the multi-storied, city-block long buildings that were retail paradises. Those were the days, my friends, when residents from surrounding towns would head to Hartford for the latest movie or an afternoon of shopping. Before the sterile cineplexes and the soulless malls, you went “downtown” where there were movie theatres and department stores.
And what a store G. Fox was! It was elegant and the fabulous main floor featured Art Deco décor. Then there was floor after floor, department after department, filled with the best of everything. You could find the latest fashions, cosmetics, jewelry, furniture, china, toys, linens, luggage, housewares, and appliances. You could buy anything from a mink coat to a dishrag.
There was a stamp and coin department on the mezzanine where my brother bought stamps to fill his albums. Also on the mezzanine was one of my favorite spots—the book department. It was here that I made the transition from Nancy Drew to Agatha Christie. Many of my favorite books (still on my bookshelves today) came from G. Fox—“The Great Gatsby,” “The Good Earth” “David Copperfield,” and “To Kill A Mockingbird.”
The mezzanine was also home to the jewelry repair shop, the camera department, and American Express Travel Service. On the main floor there was even a pharmacy. You could drop off your prescription when you arrived at the store and pick it up on your way home. For a chic new coiffure, you headed to the G. Fox beauty salon. And if you needed to refuel after hours of shopping, there was a luncheonette where you could eat at the counter.
For more formal dining, there was the Connecticut Room. On the walls of this circular-shaped room were murals depicting scenes from Connecticut’s history. During the lunch hours, models would parade through the room showing off the latest in women’s fashions. And who could forget the date nut bread that was served there?
G. Fox was a world of escalators, elevators, and smartly dressed mannequins. It was also a world where you were “waited on” by a thoroughly trained sales staff. These employees were professionals; many of them worked at the store for years and were crackerjacks at their jobs. Not merely cashiers who took your charge card, they were knowledgeable about the stock in their departments. And, in those pre-computer days, they wrote up the transactions in a thick sales book (with carbon paper.) They would refer to a chart to see what the applicable sales tax was and then place your purchase into one of the deep blue G. Fox paper bags.
As a true-blue, first-rate department store, G. Fox also offered an important amenity to its shoppers—delivery service. The pampered G. Fox customer never had to schlep around the store laden down with parcels and shopping bags. Even after a spending spree, you could leave the store hands-free. After you made your purchase, those courteous salespeople would always ask, “Would you like that sent?”
G. Fox owned a fleet of delivery trucks and each town in the Hartford vicinity had its assigned delivery days. The next best thing to finding the perfect dress in the store was when you saw the G. Fox delivery van coming down your driveway. The store also offered a telephone order service. Clients could pick up the phone, place an order, and the G. Fox deliveryman would have it on your doorstep on, say, the next Tuesday.
G. Fox was the “It” store; the G. Fox label had cachet. As a young girl, it seemed to me that all G. Fox clothes were cool and classy. Growing up when Jackie Kennedy and Audrey Hepburn were the fashion paragons, G. Fox was a ‘de rigueur’ destination to achieve The Look.
One reason department stores have been disappearing over the years, of course, is changing lifestyles. People today simply don’t “dress up” like they used to do. In fact, we live in an age of “dressing down.” The days are long gone when a woman wore a hat to complete her ensemble. Or when her shoes and purse had to match! But back in the ‘50s and ‘60s, a young woman still needed a complete wardrobe. When we were packed off to college, our trunks were filled with matching sweaters and skirts, suits for homecoming, and dressier togs for more formal occasions.
G. Fox opened in 1847 and was part of the Connecticut scene almost to the end of the twentieth century, closing its doors in 1993. Generation after generation of Nutmeggers shopped there. The Christmas season began for us when the New England village went atop the G. Fox marquee. And each December kids would make the pilgrimage to the legendary 11th floor Toy Department and a visit with Santa.
If you shopped at G. Fox, you probably remember a prized purchase that you made there. For me, it was the place where I bought my first tube of lipstick (Honeysparkle Peach at the Estée Lauder counter,) It was where I bought a pink pillbox hat for Easter and white high heels for high school graduation.
I still have a G. Fox hatbox. On the lid, underneath the store’s name, it says “Serving Connecticut since 1847.” Around the sides of the box are drawings of Hartford landmarks – the Old State House, the Travelers Tower, Bushnell Memorial Hall, and the G. Fox & Co. building at 960 Main Street.
