
This is a guest post by Alex Sanderson, a theatrical costumier and history obsessive.
The reason and inspiration for this piece is Hallie Rubenhold‘s beautifully researched book The Five: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper. This wonderful work reclaims the lives of these five women and lifts them beyond simple victims. They are fully fleshed out and with realism portrays their battle with a classed and patriarchal society. I fully recommend it to all.

Mary Jane Kelly was the last victim of the infamous Jack the Ripper. She has appeared in multiple productions focusing on the ‘Whitechapel terror,’ with varying success. The facts of her life are full of uncertainty and there are many gaps in her story.
What has been pieced together — from her last partner, Joseph Barnett, as well as several other acquaintances — has been almost impossible to verify, and she is still considered a mystery today.
Her appearance is slightly more certain. Her eyes were certainly blue, and her hair has often been described as dark strawberry blonde to a true red. She is often described as well dressed, although it was also said that while drunk her sartorial style lapsed considerably. A London newspaper covering the story stated that Mary was “tall, slim, fair, of fresh complexion, and of attractive appearance.”
She is recorded as being 25 years of age at her death in 1888, and she was the only victim — of the canonical five — who was slaughtered inside her own squalid room. And a slaughter it was indeed. Being in a private setting, the killer let himself loose and the victim suffered extreme mutilation.
From what can be established, her life is one of extremes. Her birth is stated as in Ireland or rural Wales, neither of which can be proved, but it seems almost certain that she spent her early years in Caernarfonshire, Wales, and indeed spoke the language. She may have been married young, but it is recalled that she stated her husband had been a coal miner, who was killed in a pit accident after several years of marriage. From there it seems that she may well have fallen into prostitution. She later recounted to a friend that when she first arrived in London, from Cardiff, she worked successfully in a prosperous brothel in the West End: she even took a trip to Paris with a client — but returned to London swiftly as she disliked her life there.
From here, her life seems to have slipped rapidly. It may well be that Mary’s drinking disrupted her career, and she was soon living in the less than polite and squalid East End, drifting between several common lodgings.
She engaged in several relationships, whilst still working the streets, but the most important and informative was Joseph Barnett, a porter at Billingsgate fish market. They moved in together for a time but were evicted due to excessive drunkenness.
Barnett was less than enthusiastic about Mary’s method of living, but Mary seems to have continued in prostitution regardless and they finally moved into a single room let in 15 Miller’s Court, a dirty and tattered property. Her landlord, John McCarthy, recalled that “she was a very quiet woman when sober but noisy when in drink.” She certainly loved to sing!

It was here that she and Joseph Barlett argued heatedly. She had been allowing a fellow sex worker to sleep within their room and Joseph was heartily sick of it and moved out. Mary, now alone, continued to work the streets … until the early hours of the ninth of November, 1888.
On that morning, her landlord sent his assistant to knock on the door of Mary’s room to demand several weeks’ unpaid rent. There was no answer, so the young man peered through the grimy window. What he saw horrified him so greatly that it took half an hour for him to find the words to explain things to his employer. The police were swiftly summoned. It was ordered that the door be broken to gain entry, and what they discovered inside caused two officers to exit in order to vomit. Never had the Ripper butchered a victim so completely.
The picture of the scene, taken by the police, still causes horror in those who view it today. I am not going to include it here, as many view the post-mortuary photographs of the Rippers’ victims as titillating — and in my view, highly distasteful — spectacle. But is easy to find online for those of a strong disposition.
Joseph Barnett was summoned, and he identified her via her hair and eyes. There was no doubt in the minds of those involved that the Ripper had claimed another and final victim.
Her funeral was massively attended, and, as the cart passed, the horrified people of Whitechapel lined the streets to pay their final respects.
Mary Jane Kelly’s Wardrobe, Real and Imagined
But what would Mary Jane Kelly have worn? How would she have styled herself?
In the following examples of her filmed appearances, we tend to see a simplified tradition of two templates and silhouette. One being of more fashionable lines and which is often considered the traditional, tattered uniform of a Victorian sex worker — complete with the fashionable bustled rump and fancy bonnet — today. The second is far more grounded in reality, often consisting of a fitted bodice/blouse, wool skirt, shawl, apron, chemise, corset, and petticoats.
It must be remembered here that Mary Kelly was somewhat unusual in using prostitution as her full-time profession. This might have instigated a difference in style, when compared with more ‘respectable’ residents of the local area. The lives of the other four women murdered by Jack reveal that many women of the East End used sex work as a part-time affair, simply to help to make ends meet. These would, most likely, dress in a manner considered less flashy and more ‘honest’ to their neighbours.
Firstly, it is interesting to briefly examine pictures of dresses, accessories, and hair that Mary would (if it was truth) have indulged in whilst working in the fashionable West End brothel. Some of which she may well have carried with her to East End, and which would, over time, have become worn and dirty. I will be looking at around the mid 1880s to fit in with her supposed timeline.
1880s woman’s fashion was marked by tight corsets, large bustles, and high necklines. Whilst before bustles had been created from folds and drapes of fabric, during the mid 1880s the bustles became grander and far more pronounced, to the extent that supportive pads and cages were often required.


These designs show the renewal of the bustle, after the flatter silhouette of the late 1870s. The style embraces the draped apron swags at front and a perched bustle shape behind. Also popular in this time were polonaise style gowns — which were inspired by 18th century fashions from the 1770s-80s, which were heavy in the fullness of the skirts back and sides.

Now let us look to what was commonly worn in the East End of London, particularly Whitechapel, where Mary’s life ended in 1888. There are, of course, no fashion plates or very few extant remaining examples in museums, so we will have to look at newspaper illustrations of the denizen’s inhabiting the slum like streets of the area: them proving to be almost fashion plates for the lower classes in themselves.


Looking at these two examples you notice a vast difference in the overall silhouette. In one (‘The Ladies Lounge’) there is a distinct lack of shape, whilst there is certainly an echo of fashionable dress in the ‘Illustrated Police News’ picture. ‘The Ladies Lounge’ shows a group in everyday wear. Here you can clearly see that their ensemble consisted of three or four pieces; a blouse, skirt, and apron, with maybe a shawl crossed across the breast. It is likely that most women would be corseted, as a corset and stockings were staples to a woman’s ensemble, even for the lowest orders of society. They are all bare-headed, but all hair is up and simply styled, with several sporting the fashionable curled fringe/bangs.
Mary Kelly, on her final night, is described as wearing a “…dark dress, velvet body (or black jacket), and a maroon shawl” by several witnesses — some also included a white apron and black bonnet — and her body was wearing a ripped and bloodied chemise when discovered. This description ties in better with the ‘Illustrated Police’ illustration. Here she has a more fashionable, obviously corseted, silhouette — high bosomed, with the hint of a bustle under the rear of her fitted jacket, of fashionable cut. She is also portrayed as wearing her white apron, a shawl, and a rather stylish hat.
In all, it is fairly universally stated that she was neat, well dressed, and had a certain style. It is also perhaps likely, and certainly makes sense, that Mary would be dressed as well as she could be whilst soliciting, in the hope that it would better attract a potential client.
So, lets now examine how Mary Jane Kelly has been portrayed in all the TV and film productions that cover the Whitechapel murders. It is an interesting and rather varied selection.
A Study in Terror (1965)
A film — Mary Kelly is played by actress and model Edina Ronay. Costume design by Sophie Devine.

Please excuse the screencaps below, but the quality of this video left a lot to be desired.
Here we see one of the first full glimpses of Mary Kelly, posing provocatively over a banister. At once you are struck by the fact that the actress has a rather theatrical take on what a ‘Lady of the Night’ would have worn in the period. Her ensemble appears to consist of a separate skirt and bodice — both in a pink checked/gingham cotton fabric. The skirt appears to have a deep gathered frill below the knee, with a touch of an appropriate swagged apron front. These are all elements which are suitably period — aside from the extremely low neckline — yet the overall effect is more a ‘Disney does Whitechapel’ than authentic 1880s East End. The folded frills at her sleeve cuffs look particularly clunky and rather oddly faux.
Looking closer at the bodice we see more of the trimming detail. A lace ribbon along the lines of the bodice, shell buttons, with a deeper lace frill about the neckline. Also the general impression is sadly limp, with a distinct lack of layering and petticoats. The female denizens of Whitechapel were often skipping from cheap lodging to cheap lodging and so would have worn most of their garments most of the time. Most of the Ripper’s victims were wearing multiple layers at the time of their deaths — aside from Mary Kelly, who was discovered virtually naked. Also Ms. Ronay (as with many of the hair and makeup choices in this film) looks as if she has been slapped with the 1960s styling stick — complete with feathered bangs, beehive top-knot, winged eyeliner, and a distinctly bronzed glow!
As the scene progresses, she sheds her bodice and skirt, and it is revealed that she is wearing a busked, under-bust corset. Corsets of this period were almost universally over-bust. As with the other elements of her costume, it is distinctly lacking in suitable structure, which should be sitting upon the bust point and lower on the hips. She is, however, wearing a chemise — which is correct, and it does have a rather nice crotchet fringe — as well as drawers, which should correctly be split crouch.
Murder by Decree (1979)
A film — Mary Kelly is played by Susan Clark. Costume design by Judy Moorcroft.
Now, this proved to be far more in the realm of reality. The casting is slightly unsatisfactory. Ms Clarke is a very handsome woman — and a fine actress, who emotes well — but appears to be more in her forties as opposed to the reportedly youthful Mary Jane. Certainly, life was very hard in Whitechapel, and Mary was known for her heavy drinking, but she was also described as appearing youthful and pretty.
That being said, her costume is far more appropriate for a woman in Mary’s circumstances and appear as garments that someone would have actually worn. Please forgive though, as the screencaps may not the best quality. The actress doesn’t half move whilst chewing the scenery — but I hope that they give a good enough impression of her interesting costuming.
Here you can see the initial impression of Mary Kelly — an almost widow-like creature in a heavy wool skirt, which appears to be cut in an appropriate ‘walking’ style with suitable gathered fullness at the rear. A black shawl covers her hair and appears to be draped to her waist. The above headshot reveals the fine detailing of the black, crochet fringed mourning shawl.

It is certainly a suitable garment for the period and is something which a woman of the lower classes would have easily acquired as a hand-me-down or purchased cheaply from one of Whitechapel’s numerous pawn shops. It is only when you examine the black and white promotional image that you realize that she has a white cotton, high-necked, long-sleeved blouse, under what appears to be a mantle style garment. Both of which are appropriately late Victorian and it must be noted that these items seem well worn, which creates a reality of their constant function and the status of the wearer.
Also it can be noticed that texture is added to the edges of the capelet through a silk ruched trim. A more satisfying offering overall, and I did enjoy the film as a whole. Geneviève Bujold as Annie Crook is fabulous!
Jack the Ripper (1988)
A TV series — Mary Kelly is played by Lysette Anthony. Costume design by Raymond Hughes.
Now here we really begin to cook with gas! Not only is her character fleshed out far more than in the previous two examples, but the wonderful Lysette Anthony (most famous perhaps from her turn in The Lady and the Highwayman) gives a surprisingly nuanced and sympathetic portrayal, far more so than before. Here she is a very real young woman and goes far beyond the stereotype of a Victorian sex worker.

In this promotional image you get a fairly good idea of what is happening in regards to her costuming, and it is a lot more exciting than the previous two offerings. It seems that research was done and efforts made! There is the black, apron swagged, beaded trim skirt; also a black, high-necked, stylish basque-fitted jacket — which appears to be cut from taffeta — with a double lace frill at the cuff of the three-quarter length sleeve. This jacket appears to be trimmed with a green taffeta band. All of the above is appropriate, as is the attractive black shawl with green embroidery which she wears across her shoulders. She also sports a large pink, silk rose, over her left breast, which certainly makes sense for a woman of Mary Jane’s profession. The accessorizing bloom would have been relatively cheap to acquire, but it softens and feminizes the general ensemble: an item which a young lady would covet when in the hunt for clients.
In a later scene, you are able to view the rump of her skirt, unfortunately it is far too dark to screencap effectively, but it definitely has draped fullness — more so in the polonaise style rather than sitting over a frame/cage — and it is definitely a good example of the lesser extreme of bustles worn in this period.
I was also fascinated by her hat and was able to grab an image showing it in its full, rather amusing glory.
It is certainly appropriate for the 1880s, when hats/bonnets tended to perch at the back of the head and were often decorated using feathers — it is the rather bedraggled and ramshackle appearance of the plumed cluster which caused me to smile. It is almost engineered to look as though Mary may have trimmed the bonnet herself — perhaps after her tenth gin of the day — and it gives the appearance that perhaps it had been caught in the rain once too often. A very charming, humanizing piece of design.
And finally, after Mary returns to the privacy of her Miller’s Court room, she sheds her jacket and releases the back of her hair. A simple linen blouse is revealed, sitting snugly over what is most likely a corseted torso.


These images show the fashionable corset shape worn in the 1880s. The second also demonstrates a bustle’s supportive under-pinning, as worn in the period.
The Ripper (1997)
A TV film — Mary Kelly is played by Karen Davitt. Costume design by Terry Ryan.
Now, this was a very difficult production to track down, and when I did it proved to be rather dark and lacking in clarity. Karen Davitt’s performance was rather good though, as far as it went. She had a suitable look and a certain gravity in her acting. Her hair was always up, if somewhat untidy.
We first see Mary wearing what looks like a heavy black skirt with a black wool scarf crossed across her breast, something seen in many of the images of the women of 1880s Whitechapel. We catch a glimpse of a lighter sleeved garment under her black scarf and she also has a thin white cotton scarf tied about her neck.
Later, Mary removes her shawl, and we get a much better idea of the bodice she wears underneath. It appears to be a late, low-necked 1870s cuirass/dinner bodice (a fitted, boned bodice) — which tracks as a slightly out-of-date style, suitable for the lower orders to be wearing. It appears to be constructed from a striped or ridged wool fabric, with black trim around the neckline and along the seams. It seems that this bodice is fastened down the front with a line of black buttons. The sleeves are three quarter in length.
Love Lies Bleeding (1999)
A film — Mary Kelly is played by Andrea Miltner. Costume design by Simona Zapletalová.
Now here I came into problems. This is one in the list which I haven’t seen and discovered that it is impossible to view/stream at present. There is also a serious lack of any promotional material, with only a very low-quality trailer available featuring Ms. Miltner. Rather than drive myself mad trying to capture an image, I decided to sketch her costume to help in my explanation of it.
The actress is not too bad in regards to her general appearance. She is appropriately aged and has a ‘look,’ which works well with her character and her place in life. She appears, very briefly, twice in the trailer, and her hair is up, though she is almost entirely smothered in gloom. From what can be discerned, her costume is generally uninspired and lacking any great historical accuracy.
Due to the problems I had in capturing an image of her costume, I decided that I would do a swift sketch to demonstrate what I could interpret from the trailer.
In her scenes, her costume seems to be made up of a pale, off-the-shoulder bodice, with a bias-cut, self-trimmed flounce about the neckline. A dark, rather flimsy shawl is draped over this. If generous, this is of a general ‘Victoriana’ appearance, with perhaps a nod to a very out-of-date evening bodice of around the 1860s — although this garment seems to be distinctly unstructured and lacking any underpinnings, which is highly unusual for this style. There also seem to be small sleeve puffs, revealed under the flounce, in an extremely brief later scene whilst Mary is in a pub. As it is impossible to ascertain what the skirts are like, this bodice is all that we are really, frustratingly, left with, aside from what looks like a thick black ribbon tied about her neck. Hardly appropriate wear for a freezing Autumn in Whitechapel. I would have thought hypothermia would have carried Mary Kelly off long before the Ripper could get to her!
From Hell (2001)
A film — Mary Kelly is played by Heather Graham. Costumes design by Kym Barrett.
Now I have to admit that this film is one of my very guilty pleasures. This is certainly the most extensive portrayal of Mary Jane Kelly in any film to date and is based upon a graphic novel by writer Alan Moore and artist Eddie Campbell, originally published in 1989. They do though tend to fly fast and loose with historical accuracy when it comes to plot.
As you can see, from the image above, the costuming of the ‘victims’ is a very mixed and fantastical bag indeed. Heather Graham (second to the left) suffers from serious ‘leading lady hair‘ syndrome throughout! Not once does she put up or style her hair — whist all other female characters at least make an effort, even if it is only the front — and a series of semi-appropriate hats are worn. Annie Crook (on the far left) has the most correct costume in terms of shape, fit, and fabric. She is the mistress of a wealthy patron, so this ensemble is suitably fashionable, without being too showy.
Mary Kelly, on the other hand, is wearing what looks like an out-of-date walking/day dress with an apron skirt front sitting over a darker under skirt. The neckline, though, should be higher. This works if you presume that Mary would be dressed in the tatters of an earlier, fashionable wardrobe. It looks as though she may well have raised the bottom hem of the underskirt so that it didn’t drag in the muddy streets … but this would have been unusual to this extent.
This Mary Kelly is certainly looking more ‘down and out’ than earlier outings. She does, at times, wear a man’s style coat over her dress, which was certainly done by women in Whitechapel. This coat looks quite seriously out-of-date — but is feasible. In the initial image of Graham above it is possible to just about see what might be a red corset under her buttoned bodice and a chemise of sorts under this. Whether the corset used is appropriately cut, as can be seen above, is anyone’s guess!
It is easier to access the fabric and bodice construction here. It appears that there is minor smocking used on either side of the bodice, which is a technique that would have been considered out of vogue by now and is even more unusual in a fitted bodice of this style and date. It was far more widely used in the 1840s, when a fan-fronted design would have been spread across the entire front, as well as smaller and more subtle smocking as seen here. It is really a clash of styles, and as it was generally desired for a basque bodice of the time to fit smoothly over a corseted frame, so this detailing looks somewhat unusual, unnecessary, and suspect to me.
The fabric looks highly theatrical and somewhat anachronistic to me, with raised, what may well be applique, rosebud, ribbon machine embroidery dotted across the extent. To date, I have never seen Victorian embroidery look quite so clunky. I have though seen such applique trim on eBay! A dress of this style and original quality would be far more likely to have been cut from printed cotton, as with this example held in the V&A collection, dated from 1883.

Saying that, the tone of the film is generally very stylistic and theatrical overall which is fitting regarding it’s gothic, illustrated source material.
Jack, the Last Victim (2005)
A somewhat bizarre musical filmed production — Amanda Almond plays an actress playing Mary Kelly.
To be fair, this film is hardly striving for historical realism, fully embracing the general ‘goth’ aesthetic used in the filmed musical numbers on the stage — offering a backbone to the somewhat simplistic and unsatisfying plot. All of the five canonical victims are rather lazily dressed in the same dress: which certainly look like they were picked off the peg at Whitby’s Vampire Fair. I am almost fully certain that these costumes were neither specifically designed or constructed for this production … In fact the general apathy — regarding any sort of exploration of the lives of these historical women is the most frustrating and irritating thing to me, regarding this production.
These garments have a red velvet fronted and backed bodice with black satin sides. They button up the front and are clearly lacking in any structure or boning. The sleeves are in black lace, gathered (and I suspect most likely elasticated) above and below the elbow.
The skirt is a basic, ankle-length, lace skirt, gathered into occasional limp swags at the side, with no sign of fullness in the rump. All the women wear pointed, spiked-heeled ankle boots. All in all, the effect is fairly uninspired but works somewhat within the context of the film. The hair is mainly left to lankly hang throughout proceedings. They never style their hair whether onstage or off, and the makeup is a tad too Amy Winehouse for my taste. The makeup department consisted of an Aida De Bretto, and no costume credits are listed.
The Real Jack the Ripper (2010)
A TV documentary film — Mary Kelly is played by Yulia Petrauskas. Costume design by Ruth Secord and Rashmi Varma.
Now here I truly found my Waterloo! The film is there to view on YouTube … but the quality is shocking! It is also far more documentary than dramatization, and Yulia Petrauska as Mary Kelly only appears for a few minutes. Saying that Yulia Petrauskas looks well in the role and drinks and flirts with aplomb.
Coincidentally, Yulia Perrauska played a working-class character in an episode of the Murdoch Mysteries in 2013, and she wears an almost identical costume to that which she wore as Mary Kelly — even though that series is set in 1895 Canada rather than 1888 London. I did manage to grab screencaps of this and so include them as an example of the type of ensemble she wore in The Real Jack.
It is virtually nondescript and rather generic, but fitting for the period and her social class. Trust me when I state that Mary Kelly’s costume consists of a plain, fitted, high-necked cotton blouse, open at the throat, and a dark shawl. The images above show Ms. Petrauskas wearing a patterned blouse, rather than plain she wore in the film, and she sports a kerchief on her head. The skirt may well have been a tad fuller in the Ripper docu-drama, but the layers are there. There is a distinct similarity with the outfits worn by the woman of Whitechapel in the ‘Ladies Lounge’ sketch above.
Jack the Ripper: The Definitive Story (2011)
A dramatized documentary — Mary Kelly is played by Lexie Lambert. The wardrobe department is listed as Chantal Blackmoor and Jennie Douglas.
Now, this is quite solid and interesting as a piece, and Lexie Lamber is a successful Mary Kelly. She looks the right age and has a certain youthful freshness to her performance. It actually left me wishing that she had been cast in a more fully dramatized production.
Her costuming proves that the costumiers fully understood the layering that would have been involved. In the above image, we see clearly the bodice which she is wearing. It is suitably high-necked, fastening by buttons down its front and a small brooch at its neck. The sleeves, though, are unusually full for the current, or even earlier, fashion: smacking more, to me, of the leg-o-mutton sleeves of the 1890s. She wears a clean white apron, which was considered a must amongst any women of pride women dwelling in Whitechapel.
The initial image shows her with her hair up, in suitable style — later though, as things get a little messier, and she heads to her doom, her hair tends to cascade about her shoulders. A very theatrical conceit.
Once out and about, she dons a red wool shawl, and we see her skirt is full length. Only once do we glimpse her rear, and it has a suitable fullness to the rump, and it is obvious, as she walks, that she wears at least one layer of trimmed petticoat, which is pleasing.
For a documentary, I feel that ending on this production is a satisfying conclusion and is certainly not the lesser of the bunch!
Have you read Hallie Rubenhold’s book? Have you seen any of these portrayals of Mary Jane Kelly?
Not a movie, but the Celtic singer Karliene has a lovely album based off her life.
Oh! I hadn’t heard of such! I will be hunting it down forthwith. Many huge thanks for letting me know it exists. :D
It’s a sorry thing that these perfectly unremarkable women are remembered solely for having been murdered and even more horrible to realise that they are remembered with any clarity only because they were murdered by one of the more infamous serial killers in human history (and Murder Nerds are as indefatigable & meticulous as their counterparts in less grisly areas of interest).
…
I’ve just been struck by the horrible suspicion that their infamy is the working class equivalent to having been numbered amongst Henry VIII’s wives.
I think you’re right. Most of the women in my family at this time were domestic workers, and the men labourers, some very skilled. So we were far closer to poverty like this than the middle class (Scotland and the Netherlands.) We should care about these women for who they were and the reality of the world they moved through.
It is fascinating to learn of all the skilled labour in Whitechapel. Many of these skilled professions would have only just kept people above the poverty line: tailors, tanners, embroiderers. It is also hugely interesting to research these five women and discover how vastly different their lives were.
I completely agree. It is so sad that these woman gained historical renown via their horrendous murders. Without such they would have, most likely, slipped through the gaps of time in deprivation, illness/addiction and poverty…. I certainly think that your Henry VIII’s wives analogy is spot on; and one I hadn’t thought of.
I completely agree. It is so sad that these woman gained historical renown via their horrendous murders. Without such they would have, most likely, slipped through the gaps of time in deprivation, illness/addiction and poverty…. I certainly think that your Henry VIII’s wives analogy is spot on; and one I hadn’t thought of.
Thank You for the compliment: the analogy falls apart a bit when it comes to Catherine of Aragon (Who would have attracted notice by dint of her paternity, if nothing else) but it’s hard to resist the suspicion that more than one of the Six would have been mostly lost to history, bar their connection to that most notorious of English potentates.
PBS just showed ‘Lucy Worsley Invesrigates Jack the Ripper”. Her focus is on how the press of the time treated the murders and the victims, giving rise to the public’s fascination with true crime. She interviews the author of “Five’ to discuss how unfairly the women were characterized.
I saw the episode over Christmas and – as with all Lucy Worsley documentaries – I thought it excellent and insightful. :D I was worried that Mary Jane Kelly would make a dramatized appearance, as I had already submitted this post – I don’t think she did though. There was an uncomfortable looking woman in a train carriage, as Worsley relayed the events of the final murder… but as Mary Kelly would not of had any cause, or the funds, for such a journey I do not think it was meant to represent her.
If you haven’t listened to Hallie Rubenhold’s podcast using her research for the book, “Bad Women: The Ripper Retold – Season 1”, detailing the biographies of each of the women, I highly recommend it. It was produced by Pushkin, and consists of fifteen episodes.
How amazing, I will certainly hunt it down. It sounds perfect ‘listen whilst I sew’ material! Huge thanks for the suggestion!
I will now be looking up these versions! Heartbreaking, yet fascinating. Horrifying for poor Mary and all of the victims, may they rest in peace. Also, there was a version called Mary Kelly in 2000, with Julia Roberts, which I have never seen, but will check out too. I love your blog!