Basically, there was trouble at ’mill. Or at least t’mill owner’s house. This is the fons et origo of Barbara Taylor Bradford’s A Woman of Substance. The quintessential rags-to-riches tale, of impoverished Yorkshire lass Emma Harte making her way to the top of the fashion business, was published in 1979 – but it anticipated and appealed instantly to the self-improving, bootstrap-straining, money-hungry, power-mad, ambition-laden mood of the decade to come. It was first adapted for television in 1985 (starring Jenny Seagrove and Deborah Kerr as Emmas young and old) and now it is time for another. Katherine Jakeways and Roanne Bardsley have delivered an eight-part miniseries whose lavish absurdity takes us back to the supreme madness of 80s television and gives us the escapism we surely all currently crave.
We open in the late 70s with Emma Harte in a limousine and her multimillionaire grande dame prime. She is played by Brenda Blethyn, who has, at last, cast off her drab Vera garb and shuffling gait after 14 series. Instead, she has embraced a gorgeous silver-grey bouffant wig and equally lavish wardrobe, with, I hope, all the joy that such a metamorphosis can bring.
