Photography by Jonathan Pollack
In 1883, war widows and penniless gentlewomen came to the back door of The Woman’s Exchange on Sixth Street, bonnets hiding their faces, needlework and handcrafted goods in their satchels. They knew the kind volunteers at the Exchange would keep their secret, so the world need never know that they were destitute. Saved from filthy factory work, they sewed and embroidered by firelight in the privacy of their homes, and The Woman’s Exchange sold their exquisite goods and gave them cash.
Today, The Woman’s Exchange Gift Shop and Tea Room is in Ladue, and the consigners are women who have left abusive marriages or need to stay home to care for sons who were wounded in Iraq. Their identities are still kept in confidence, and The Woman’s Exchange still helps them make a living by providing fabrics and trims, giving guidance on what will sell in the shop, and handing back 70 to 100 percent of the sale price.
When the shop was on Euclid Avenue, the ladies even mended boxer shorts and sewed peignoirs and Veiled Prophet ball gowns. They’ve eased up on the lingerie and couture, but they still embroider monograms inside opera-length gloves, embellish purses, hand-paint gifts, make ribbon belts and brocade headbands, and sew tiny frocks for flower girls and even tinier ones for American Girl dolls. Those traditional domestic arts mingle with the latest ceramics from Eva Gordon; fresh, modern gifts like a bright-red enameled tray with chrome trim and sharply angled sides; witty dish-glove and apron sets with faux-mink trim. “These Mexican silk scarves are sold only at one other U.S. shop,” notes executive director Jessica Wright, flinging one, “and we’re Michael Aram’s biggest account in Missouri.” The shop was already selling those water buffalo–bone bracelets, she adds, “when Oprah put them on her list.”
Once there were hundreds of woman’s exchanges across the country; now there are fewer than 20, and St. Louis’ is by far the largest. Volunteers spend 5,000 hours a year selling one-of-a-kind wedding gifts, taking squirming children’s measurements, and ordering desk accessories the Queen of England might choose for Balmoral Castle. The shop’s famous for its handmade christening gowns—each new baby’s initials added to the hem—and trademark cherry dress. (John F. Kennedy Jr. was once photographed in the counterpart jumper.) One woman makes all of those cherry dresses, by the way. God help us if she ever gets a wild impulse to switch to kiwi.
