A trip to a car boot sale this morning had the unexpected side effect of reminding me of those halcyon long ago days in the late 80s and early 90s when ownership of a set of Eternal Beau tableware was a true benchmark of middle class aspirations. How times have changed. It’s all about Emma Bridgewater and Cath Kidston these days (and rightly so) but back then you were a social failure if you didn’t serve dinner on Eternal Beau.
We never had anything with the Eternal Beau pattern as my grandmother considered it rather ridiculous and cloying, but I remember loving it and longing for her to buy something, anything with the pretty yet refined flower and ribbon pattern. To my young eyes, it was the epitome of elegance. Don’t worry, I soon realised the error of my ways.
I think there is still a part of me that loves Eternal Beau – when I went to the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, I found myself drawn to a display of Sevres plates that had once formed part of a service belonging to Madame du Barry. Look familiar?
I think we must have always have had a taste for flowers and ribbons on our plates. It’s a pity that Eternal Beau is considered so naff now really, otherwise I might well have bought some pieces in it.