‘I’ve met some brilliant people and made lots of friends’: Popular shop Zebra to close

INSTITUTION: Ann Robinson’s Zebra, which has been trading in Hull for more than 30 years

Now & Then, a column by Angus Young

The end of an era as Zebra, one of Hull’s best-loved independent shops, is to close in the new year

The conversation is flowing like wine in Ann Robinson’s gift shop.

News that the Zebra’s shutters will soon be coming down for the last time has started to spread.

The shop in Newland Avenue is tiny but stepping inside is a bit like walking into the middle of a big raucous family gathering.

At the centre of it all is Ann, who has been selling an eclectic range of clothing, crystals, incense sticks, greetings cards, unusual gifts and jewellery for 33 years.

Behind the counter, she’s hunting for a nose ring for a customer who has travelled all the way from Bridlington before the shop finally closes in the new year.

“So what are your plans when you close?” she asks.

“I’m going to have a crack at bank-robbing,” replies the 71-year-old, quick as a flash. “It’s got to be more profitable than this.”

In another life she could have been a stand-up comedian.

From the other side of the shop, her husband Paul chips in.

“Yeah, a bit of bank-robbing and then we’re going to spend the rest of our naturals in prison. We’ll have a telly, three meals a day and a bed. If we can take the dog, great.”

Pleased with her new nose ring, the lady adds two essential oils to her order.

“I used to buy stuff from your shop in Princes Avenue when I lived in Hull,” she says. “I loved going to all the shops there.”

It’s a cue for Ann to return to one of her favourite subjects, having opened the first incarnation of Zebra in Princes Avenue in 1991, taking over a friend’s shop which sold crystals.

“People give me funny looks when I say Princes Avenue was a great street for shops but it really was back in the day.

“It was a bit alternative but there were loads of lovely little shops like Bogus where I bought my first pair of loon pants.”

Across the counter, she spots the puzzled look on her customer’s face.

“Oh, you’re probably too young to know what loon pants are. I’ll save you a search on Google. They were tight flared trousers, all the rage in the 1970s. I thought I looked very cool in mine.”

She reels off the names of several other long-lost shops from that era – Aladdin’s Cave, Hull Food, Page One Books, Old Lace, before adding with a smile and a wink: “And of course there was Gwenap!”

‘THE CONVERSATION FLOWS LIKE WINE’: Ann Robinson and customers at Zebra

She completes the sale, thanks the lady for taking the time to visit and steps out from behind the counter for our interview. 

Having previously worked for a haulage company, she recalls her switch to retail being a step into the unknown.

“I didn’t like my job and the boss was a bit of a megalomaniac so when my friend Glynis said she was giving up her shop I jumped at the chance.

“I still remember sitting in a car with her at the traffic lights on Princes Avenue and Glynis pointing to the shop, saying: ‘I’m closing in two weeks, it’s yours’. The rent was £30 a week when I started.”

Two years later, she moved to a larger shop previously occupied by A2Z at the corner of Thoresby Street.

“Do you know why all the shops on that terrace are set at an odd angle from the pavement?” she asks. “It’s not a trick question or a joke. Apparently, it’s all to do with the original route of a large Victorian drain.”

In this much bigger unit, Zebra grew and stayed there for 15 years.

“At one point I had five part-time staff. We were nearly as big as Tesco.”

Years before street art became popular, she had an idea of having a mural of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers painted on the gable end of the shop. Unfortunately, the city council wasn’t so enthusiastic.

WARES: Some of the items on sale at Zebra

“The guy from the council came round and said I wasn’t allowed. I asked him why not and he said it was advertising. I said: ‘I’m not selling Van Goghs’ and he just said: ‘But you are selling wooden sunflowers.’ Can you believe it?”

Another run-in with the council a few years later also still rankles with her.

“It was when Princes Avenue was starting to change with the bars and all the takeaways. I put in an objection to another takeaway because I could see the way things were going.

“Another guy from the council asked why I was objecting and I told him it was not going to be a shopping street for much longer and would just mean more people dropping litter in the street.

“He said: ‘Don’t worry about that. They won’t drop it on the avenue, they’ll drop it around the corner.’ He didn’t seem bothered about creating problems for all the people living around the corner.”

With the street’s profile changing, her landlord suddenly doubled her rent and added an extra £1,000 on top. It was time to move and Zebra relocated to what would be the first of three shops on Newland Avenue over the years.

“Newland became a bit like how Princes Avenue used to be but it’s been tough these last few years and now just seems the right time to go,” she says. “Plus I’m going deaf as well as being daft. It’s an age thing.”

From across the shop, Paul asks the price of an item being eyed by another customer.

“£1.50,” replies Ann. “They’ve been £1.50 for 20 years.”

We return to the interview and I ask her to sum up the last three decades of her life.

ECLECTIC: The distinctive goods that have kept a loyal band of shoppers flocking to Zebra over the years

“I have had a real blast. I’ve met some brilliant people and made a lot of good friends with customers and some of my suppliers.”

Apart from robbing banks, I wonder what retirement really holds in store for this local treasure.

“When I was young I remember getting the bus into Hull because I was a farmer’s daughter from the sticks and we got talking to a man who said he was going into town to get on a boat to Jamaica.

“I just thought it was wonderful to be able to just jump on a boat in Hull and sail to Jamaica. I don’t think you can do that now and if I did go I’d probably get shot at but I still wouldn’t mind seeing Jamaica.

“If not, I’ll probably do a lot more sewing if these knackered old hands will let me. I used to make my own Native American clothing in the 1970s so I might go back to that.

“I’m also involved in a few groups and still do some fund-raising. That won’t stop.”

As she poses for a photograph, she adjusts her scarf to ensure a Free Palestine badge is proudly on display.

“You need to get that in,” she smiles.

Just before I leave, she gives me a couple of crystals as a small gift and provides detailed instructions on how to use one of them at home to ensure good financial fortune in the future.

As she does so, I remember to check the correct spelling of her name.

“It’s Ann without an ‘e’ and Robinson without the plastic surgery.”