There was a woman*. She made small, perfectly formed, rather fiddly, stuffed dachshunds. Many of them. Many many of them. So many she couldn't bear to make another one in the end. But every last one was sent off around the world, to a new life, collecting rather an impressive stash of airmiles between them.
One such dachshund hauled itself in a small boat across a small sea to a green, lush, occassionally troubled land called Norn Irn. It nuzzled into the cosy abode of two colourful artists, who submitted a photo of their little sausage-dog shaped pride and joy to a spectacular place over the Norn Irn border called The Ark, in the fair city of Dublin. A wonderful sounding place calling itself a cultural centre for children. The dachshund was extremely pleased with itself...
. Just under 200 pages, the book "draws together fashion photography, textile designs, archival material, personal stories and beautiful dresses to tell the story of one of the most respected ready-to-wear lables on the post-war British high street."
