It fits you like a glove
The Alonso glove store remains at the epicenter of tourism in Barcelona.


Victoria doesn't lie. If someone tries on gloves and doesn't know how to put them on properly, she'll tell them, "You don't put them on like that." If someone tries on a stole and it doesn't fit, she'll tell them, "It doesn't look good on you, try this other one instead." And she doesn't do this because she has a huge stock of it, but because she truly means it. And it's worth listening to her. She's been, as it were, behind the counter of Guantería Alonso all her life, a sturdy part of traditional commerce and family business on a street as unusual for this to happen as Santa Ana in Barcelona, in the center of "Comanche territory," as I sense a woman who has just left the store saying.
But let's see, Victoria, how should a glove fit you? "Snug, like a second skin! Where do you think the expression "that fits you like a glove" comes from?" She's about to change the window displays for the summer season. Because, just like hats, the sale of gloves and fans (the house's great specialty) is seasonal. When it's cold, gloves; when it's hot, fans. It's that simple, yet that demanding.
It's necessary to have as many samples as possible, to be prepared for all the customer's possible needs. Some tourists come in and buy two gypsy and bullfighter fans—you should have them too—which cost about 4.50 euros. Later, others will come in who might want hand-painted ones, but in Indonesia (5.80 euros), and other more specific and well-informed ones will ask for Valencian ones made from persimmon wood, cut and painted by hand, which cost 236 euros.
The same thing happens with gloves, more or less. They have something for every need and every budget. The cheap ones should be wool, knit, or acrylic. "If you want leather gloves for 30 euros, you'd better go to the Chinese bazaar," Victoria exclaims. "I'm very inquisitive," she admits. Do you want them for the cold? For walking around? For shedding clothes? For riding a motorcycle? For cycling? Some customers like advice, while others almost demand self-service: pick up, pay, and leave. "And don't even think about trying to touch their hand with your glove on, they'll get angry!"
They have a lot of tourist customers, of course, but also long-time customers who bring a lot of satisfaction: "There are cleaners who come with their grandmothers so they can discover us the way they did." VIP clients? Lola Flores, Ana Belén, Núria Espert, Pablo Carbonell, and, just a few days ago, Marc Giró. "A lot of interesting people come through here; you never know what's going to happen; it's a lot of fun," Victoria highlights as the most rewarding aspect of her job.
Maintaining a century-old business
The store has been in existence since 1905. It was opened by a woman who had no children. Pere Alonso—Victoria's grandfather, a glove manufacturer and supplier—was able to continue the business. His parents, Pedro and Montserrat, followed suit. Today, Victoria's son, Hugo, helps her with the store, and who knows, he might also want to continue it.
They used to have shop assistants, but sales rise and fall, and today they sell gloves and fans "even in tobacconists." For years, the glove shop had its own factory, but since her parents passed away, that's no longer the case. The shop has been owned for about five years—after paying the bank for many years, Victoria jokes—and that's a nice advantage, a certainly interesting asset. "I'm 61 and I want to retire at 68; we'll see what happens then." The secret to keeping the shop in the neighborhood teeming with tourism and eaten away by gentrification? She always says the same thing: "a lot of love and a lot of hours." "I've had a son, Hugo, and a daughter, the shop," she adds. "You have to love it and take care of it. Few vacations, many holidays, and never during the sales season, since prices are always tight.
Whenever she travels or goes to trade shows, she gets ideas for new products. Fans and gloves, of course, but also stoles, bags, scarves, purses, mid-season hats, handkerchiefs, socks, belts... She looks at many different samples and is aware of what is and is not in fashion: "But don't think twice, go for green and then Zara comes out with red and the people come out with red!" Finally, a note of emotion: did you know that all the national gloves are made in Valencia, in the towns affected by the DANA? Buying them is also a good show of solidarity.