The London Walker

This is a story of an old fruit and vegetable shop, Verde & Company, situated on the outside of Spitalfields Market. It’s had an up and down history. One of those classic tales of David and Goliath. Its present situation, from local East End greengrocer to a boutique vendor for an international chocolate chain reflects much about these times. Crippling business rates, calculated on property values rather than turnover, along with online competition, has all but rendered independent shops and the British high street into a state of slow decline. It has transformed many city and town centres into homogenized areas: besides the shuttered remains of those who didn’t make it, the British high street is now filled with bland, ubiquitous outlets and coffee shops.

For a while the good fight against such things was fought here at Verde & Company.

The shop dates back to 1789, the year when “Liberté! Egalité! Fraternité!” was proclaimed from the barricades of Parisian boulevards, causing the French upper classes to quake in their elaborate breeches. Across the pond, George Washington was elected the first President of the United States after a controversial transfer of power from its previous colonial rulers. This shift followed longstanding disputes with the Indigenous population, who had inhabited the land for considerably longer but didn’t seem to have the required paperwork.

The building fell into disrepair and dereliction during the demise of the market. After the war London went through a period of considerable change, as bit by bit its wholesale markets (some dating from the Middle Ages) were moved out of the city. Spitalfields and its fruit and veg was moved to Leyton, Covent Garden the flower market was moved to a corner in Nine Elms, Billingsgate the fish market was moved from Lower Thames Street to the Isle of Dogs and there are plans for Smithfield, the ancient meat market to move to Dagenham in the coming years.

With regeneration and gentrification creeping in, traditions and old ways are increasingly forced to make way for wealthier stronger competition and the loss we face impacts us both culturally and communally.

One woman briefly decided to brave the fight and resist these powers. The author Jeanette Winterson purchased the house in the late 1990s, finding it largely derelict and forgotten. Slowly, she began the demanding yet rewarding task of restoring the building to its Georgian grandeur. Meanwhile Spitalfields had undergone a major transformation. The physical market building built in 1875 still stands and is charming, but commercial influences have made it resemble to me any swish duty-free retail area you’d find in a big international airport, filled with high-end fashion retailer and art brands. During the weekend its alive with stalls and food kiosks. Although it’s cleaner and brighter, possibly even busier than before, its lost a little bit of its soul.

In 2005 a large coffee chain wanted to open a store in Wilson’s restored townhouse, offering an eye watering sum, however the author had other ideas. Partnering with a top chef, it became a very successful local fruit and veg shop, providing decent cooked food and drinks on the side. For a decade the shop thrived.

Recently with another increase in rates it has finally, almost inevitably succumbed to outside market pressures. However its beautiful frontage and sign remain, to remind us of a different time, and of its unique history and one woman’s noble stand against the goliaths.