Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however we have left the hustle and bustle of London, travelling southwest to a stretch of windswept coastline just a short drive the pretty Cornish town of Penzance. Here, friends of Lettice, newlyweds Margot and Dickie Channon, have been gifted a Recency country “cottage residence” called ‘Chi an Treth’ (Cornish for ‘beach house’) as a wedding gift by the groom’s father, the Marquess of Taunton. Margot, encouraged by her father Lord de Virre who will foot the bill, has commissioned Lettice to redecorate a few of the principal rooms of ‘Chi an Treth’. In the lead up to the wedding, Lord de Virre has spent a great deal of money making the Regency house habitable after many years of sitting empty and bringing it up to the Twentieth Century standards his daughter expects, paying for electrification, replumbing, and a connection to the Penzance telephone exchange. Now, with their honeymoon over, Dickie and Margot have finally taken possession of their country house gift and have invited Lettice to come and spend a Friday to Monday with them so that she might view the rooms Margot wants redecorating for herself and perhaps start formulating some ideas as to how modernise their old fashioned décor. As Lettice is unable to drive and therefore does not own a car, Margot and Dickie have extended the weekend invitation to one of their other Embassy Club coterie, Lettice’s old childhood chum, Gerald, also a member of the aristocracy who has tried to gain some independence from his family by designing gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street. Gerald owns a Morris*, so he can motor both Lettice and himself down from London on Friday and back again on Monday. After the retirement of the housekeeper, Mrs. Trevethan, from the main house to the gatekeeper’s cottage the previous evening, the quartet of Bright Young Things** played a spirited game of sardines*** and in doing so, potentially solved the romantic mystery of ‘Chi an Treth’ after discovering a boxed up painting purportedly by the artist Winterhalter****, long forgotten, and of a great beauty.

 

Now we find ourselves out in the elements, along ‘Chi an Treth’s’ own stretch of wild coast on a remarkably sunny day for this time of year. Dickie, Margot, Gerald and Lettice all headed out after breakfast to allow the bracing sea air help to clear their heads, addled by too much champagne the previous evening. Lettice suggested it and Margot added that there were some vistas that Lettice might enjoy painting. So, Lettice packed up her folio and her watercolours and has just finished painting a view of an old lighthouse standing on a rocky outcrop whilst Margot, Dickie and Gerald all fossick for seashells and other treasures washed up into ‘Chi an Treth’s’ own little cove.

 

“Incoming!” cries Gerald as a warning as he collapses dramatically onto the sand next to Lettice, sending a spray of golden granules up into the air.

 

“Oh Gerald! Must you?” cries Lettice in exasperation with an anguished expression, gently wiping sand off her watercolour of the lighthouse.

 

“Oh, what’s wrong my little Lettuce Leaf?” Gerald teases, pinching her dainty chin between his right thumb and forefinger.

 

“Don’t call me that, Gerald!” she scolds, her face crumpling even more. “We aren’t four anymore and you know how much I detest it.”

 

“Then tell me what’s wrong, darling.”

 

Lettice takes a deep breath of bracing sea air and looks around her. In the distance along the sparkling water’s edge, Margot and Dickie walk arm in arm, a pair of silhouetted lovers with their heads buried together conspiratorially, the conversation too distant to hear, but their body language giving a clue as to the sweet nothings and giggles being shared between them. The sun shines in the partly cloudy sky overhead and gulls caw and screech as they sail on the breeze, looking for food.

 

“Oh it’s just my head, Gerald, that’s all.”

 

“Ah-ah!” he tuts, wagging a warning finger at her. “You had no pity for me at breakfast.”

 

“That’s because you were being a sulky pillock this morning.”

 

“I had every right to be!” Gerald defends, settling back on his elbows into the soft dry sand. “I had a sore head. I still do.”

 

“You were rude about Mrs. Trevethan again,” Lettice points out. “Which was unfair. I don’t know why you’ve set against her. She’s a harmless old woman.”

 

“I think she’s a Cornish witch, and she has you in her thrall, especially after that story about the Rosevear sisters this morning.”

 

“Oh wasn’t it thrilling, Gerald?” gushes Lettice. “So romantic and tragic.”

 

“If a bit fanciful,” Gerald replies with doubt in his voice. “Like any local piece of folklore.”

 

“Well, I thought it was beautifully sad, even if you don’t.”

 

“Oh, I’m just saying that you should take what that old woman says with a grain of sand, is all, darling.”

 

“Don’t you mean a grain of salt, Gerald?” Lettice asks, looking across at her friend.

 

“Considering we’re on the Cornish coast,” He picks up a fistful of sand and allows it to pour from his enclosed fingers like an hourglass. “I think sand is more appropriate.” He smiles at Lettice.

 

“Oh you!” She gives him a friendly push before sinking back a little into her sand pillow.

 

Gerald sits up and looks at Lettice’s painting as it leans against her emerald green leather folio with its golden brown marbled lined interior. “I say,” he remarks, looking out across the water to the lighthouse and comparing the watercolour with the real view. “This is really rather good, Lettice.”

 

“You sound surprised, Gerald.” she replies. “You’re the one who keeps telling me I could do worse than apply for the Slade School of Art*****.”

 

“And so you could.”

 

“Oh, I don’t think I want to go to all that bother.” She yawns quietly, not bothering to cover her mouth as she lolls back against the sand. “Besides, I also don’t want some tutor telling me how to paint. Painting is an individual and unique experience, not to be dictated to by others who think they know better.” She looks at Gerald, who is watching her intently, listening to every word she says. “And now my interiors business is finally taking off.”

 

“Until Sadie marries you off at the Hunt Ball.”

 

Lettice’s eyes narrow. “I should throw sand in your face for that remark!” she quips.

 

“But you won’t, because you love your Gerry-werry to much to hurt him,” Gerald replies in a babyish voice. Clearing his throat, he then continues in a normal tone, “Plus you don’t want to get on my bad side and find yourself stuck in the wilds of Cornwall when I refuse to motor you back to London.”

 

“I don’t know,” Lettice muses, looking up into the blue sky spattered with fast moving white roiling clouds. “There could be worse places to find myself stuck.”

 

“Like ‘Uddersfield,” remarks Gerald in a mock Yorkshire brogue.

 

“Like Huddersfield,” agrees Lettice with a laugh. “After all, Cornwall is the home of the legend of King Arthur.”

 

“You’d miss London too much, darling. All the latest west end shows, the dinners in Soho,” Gerald looks seriously at Lettice. “The fabulous frocks from Grosvenor Street. Somehow Lettice, I don’t think the Penzance Repertory, Mrs. Cornwall’s Ye Olde Arthurian Teashop and her side line in dressmaking can complete with The Palladium******, The Café Royal******* and…”

 

“And your frocks!” Lettice scoffs, completing his sentence for him.

 

“Exactly.” Gerald replies with a satisfied sigh.

 

“You really are an awful snob, Gerald.”

 

“Thank you darling.” he sighs with satisfaction. “When you are as well lineaged as I am, yet practically destitute, what is there left to be but a snob? Anyway,” he adds, leaning over and picking up Lettice’s painting and glancing at the others carefully tucked into her portfolio’s interior. “All I was saying was that I think you should consider painting murals as part of your interior designs. Other designers do, and you have the talent, which some of them don’t.”

 

“Maybe,” Lettice muses with a sigh, repossessing her painting and putting it back next to her watercolours.

 

The pair sit back in companionable silence for a little while, basking in the dappled sunlight with their eyes closed until Lettice breaks it.

 

“Do you really think it’s a Winterhalter?” She gazes back over to Dickie and Margot, now ambling slowly back across the beach towards she and Gerald.

 

“Well,” Gerald sighs, sitting up and following Lettice’s gaze. “Dickie certainly seems to think so: especially after that story spun by that old Cornish witch about the young and beautiful Miss Rosevear.”

 

“And tragic,” Lettice adds.

 

“And tragic.” Gerald concedes.

 

“I do wish he wouldn’t get his hopes up. He’ll be crushed if it turns out not to be.”

 

“Too late, darling. I’d say all Dickie sees when he looks into the face of the younger Miss Rosevear are the pound signs.”

 

“Surely you don’t mean?” Lettice begins, turning to her friend with wide eyes.

 

“Obtain a young heiress, or sell a great master.” Gerald replies prosaically.

 

“But Margot is an heiress. Just look at all the money Lord de Virre has spent on fixing up ‘Chi an Treth’. Electrifying such an old house wouldn’t have been cheap, never mind the plumbing and the telephone.”

 

“Since when have you ever known Dickie to live within his, or someone else’s means, darling? He’s just like his father, or my father for that matter. None of them can live within their means, and as soon as they get hold of any money, it’s spent. Margot may have brought a sizeable dowery, but its not enough to line the empty vaults of the Marquess.”

 

“But Dickie said only this morning after breakfast that he would bring it back with them to London to take to Bonhams******** for authentication by an expert.”

 

“You mark my words, darling,” Gerald taps his nose in a knowing way with a sad smile. “The moment Dickie gets confirmation that it is a Winterhalter, Miss Rosevear’s fate will be sealed and she will never return to ‘Chi an Treth’.”

 

“Oh that is sad!” Lettice remarks.

 

“What’s sad, darling?” Marot asks, collapsing onto the picnic rug next to Lettice, weighed down by the picnic basket carefully packed by Mrs. Trevethan earlier in the day.

 

“Oh, nothing Margot.” she replies with a false joviality in her voice.

 

“We were just saying that it’s a shame we have to return to London tomorrow.” Gerald quickly chimes in, saving Lettice any embarrassment at trying to think of a story on the fly.

 

“Well, you can always come back,” Margot says with a friendly smile. “I’m so glad this place has cast its spell on you two, like it has on Dickie and I.”

 

“You can come and go as you please,” Dickie adds. “Treat the place as your own. You know there’s a train from London to Penzance, Lettice. You can always come down and Mr. Trevethan can pick you up from the station in the pony trap.”

 

“Anyway Lettice,” Margot continues. “You’ll have to come back soon to begin the redesigns to the drawing room, dining room and the reception hall. Have you had any ideas yet? I can’t wait to hang Miss Rosevear in her rightful place in my newly painted and papered, modern, drawing room.”

 

“Yes, of course, Margot darling.” Lettice says with a painted smile on her lips as she looks over at Dickie and wonders whether Gerald’s wry observation of his motives is correct.

 

*Morris Motors Limited was a privately owned British motor vehicle manufacturing company established in 1919. With a reputation for producing high-quality cars and a policy of cutting prices, Morris's business continued to grow and increase its share of the British market. By 1926 its production represented forty-two per cent of British car manufacturing. Amongst their more popular range was the Morris Cowley which included a four-seat tourer which was first released in 1920.

 

**The Bright Young Things, or Bright Young People, was a nickname given by the tabloid press to a group of Bohemian young aristocrats and socialites in 1920s London.

 

***Sardines is an active game that is played like hide and go seek — only in reverse! One person hides, and everyone else searches for the hidden person. Whenever a person finds the hidden person, they quietly join them in their hiding spot. There is no winner of the game. The last person to join the sardines will be the hider in the next round. Sardines was a very popular game in the 1920s and 1930s played by houseguests in rambling old country houses where there were unusual, unknown and creative places to hide.

 

****Franz Xaver Winterhalter (1805 – 1873) was a German painter and lithographer, known for his flattering portraits of royalty and upper-class society in the mid-19th century. His name has become associated with fashionable court portraiture. Among his best known works are Empress Eugénie Surrounded by her Ladies in Waiting (1855) and the portraits he made of Empress Elisabeth of Austria (1865).

 

*****Established by lawyers and philanthropist Felix Slade in 1868, Slade School of Fine Art is the art school of University College London and is based in London, England. It has been ranked as the United Kingdom’s top art and design educational institution. The school is organised as a department of University College London's Faculty of Arts and Humanities. Two of its most important periods were immediately before, and immediately after, the turn of the twentieth century. It had such students as Dora Carrington, Mark Gertler, Paul Nash, C.R.W. Nevinson and Stanley Spencer.

 

******Located on Argyll Street, London, in the famous area of Soho the London Palladium Theatre started life as The Palladium in 1910. The theatre holds 2,286 seats. Of the roster of stars who have played there, many have televised performances. Between 1955 and 1969 Sunday Night at the London Palladium was held at the venue, which was produced for the ITV network. The show included a performance by The Beatles on 13 October 1963. One national paper's headlines in the following days coined the term "Beatlemania" to describe the increasingly hysterical interest in the band. Whilst the theatre has a resident show, it is also able to host one-off performances, such as concerts, TV specials and Christmas pantomimes. It has hosted the Royal Variety Performance forty-three times, most recently in 2019. In March 2020, the venue closed due to the COVID-19 pandemic's effect on the theatre industry, but reopened over four months later on 1 August 2020.

 

*******The Café Royal in Regent Street, Piccadilly was originally conceived and set up in 1865 by Daniel Nicholas Thévenon, who was a French wine merchant. He had to flee France due to bankruptcy, arriving in Britain in 1863 with his wife, Célestine, and just five pounds in cash. He changed his name to Daniel Nicols and under his management - and later that of his wife - the Café Royal flourished and was considered at one point to have the greatest wine cellar in the world. By the 1890s the Café Royal had become the place to see and be seen at. It remained as such into the Twenty-First Century when it finally closed its doors in 2008. Renovated over the subsequent four years, the Café Royal reopened as a luxury five star hotel.

 

********Established in 1793, Bonhams is a privately owned international auction house and one of the world's oldest and largest auctioneers of fine art and antiques. It was formed by the merger in November 2001 of Bonhams & Brooks and Phillips Son & Neale.

 

Beautiful as it may be, this picturesque pastime on the beach may not be all it seems, for it is in fact made up of miniatures from my 1:12 miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

Renown in miniature collectors’ circles for making miniature books that you can actually read, the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe did not make books exclusively. He also made other small pieces like this artist’s portfolio. He did several different types of portfolios including this nautically themed one which contains four watercolour paintings which slip in and out of their marbled paper housing. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make these miniature artisan pieces. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago and through his estate courtesy of the generosity of his daughter and son-in-law. This was the first piece I bought from his estate. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

 

The box of watercolours, paint brushes and black paint box all come rom Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers in the United Kingdom.

 

The shells scattered about on the sand are miniature shells I have collected from Apollo Bay and Brighton Beach over various visits with friends.

 

The sand that is spread about is in actual fact Très Or Sucre Or (golden sugar) imported from France which was a gift to me from a dear friend a few years ago. Too beautiful to stir into tea, I have used it numerous times for different photographic purposes.

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however, we are not at Cavendish Mews. We have moved north-east to the upper-class London neighbourhood of Fitzrovia, where Lettice has been summoned to the Duchess of Whitby’s four storey stuccoed Georgian townhouse. Lettice was pleasantly surprised when after luncheon with her father at Cavendish Mews, she received a note a few days later delivered in person by liveried footman from the Duchess of Whitby, requesting her presence in Fitzroy Square on Tuesday morning at half past nine.

 

Now, standing on the sweeping steps of Portland stone she looks up at the impressive Regency façade and knocks at the black painted front door with the polished brass knocker. A liveried footman, different to the one who delivered the Duchess’ letter, answers the door.

 

“The Honourable Lettice Cheywnd to see Her Grace.” Lettice says firmly and the footman steps aside, ushering her from the bright daylight outside into the cool marble hallway within.

 

The clip of Lettice’s louis heels echo throughout the lofty entrance hall which is lit from four storeys above by a lightwell. The footman politely asks her to wait whilst he strides silently up the sweeping carpeted spiral staircase to the upper floors of the townhouse. Lettice has not long been settled into the red velvet seat of a walnut Regency chair when he returns.

 

“Her Grace is in the morning room, if you’d be so good as to follow me, Miss Chetwnd.”

 

Lettice smiles smugly as she thinks of what was written on the thick monogrammed and gilt-edged paper within the envelope delivered to her flat: in it, Lettice has been promised the full sum owing for the work done remodelling her mother’s titled cousin’s small first floor reception room in her signature Modernist Classical Revival style. It was something Lettice had all but given up on after sending the elusive Duchess several written reminders, standing on the steps outside on Fitzroy Square several times, and making numerous unreturned phone calls to the Duchess, all to no avail.

 

“Miss Chetwynd, Your Grace.” the footman announces as he opens the door to the morning room.

 

Not a room Lettice has seen before, it looks like much of what she has seen of the Duchess of Whitby’s townhouse: the classical Robert Adam design overlaid with the comfortable Edwardian clutter of continual acquisition over the ensuing generations. Her own family home of Glynes in Wiltshire is furnished in the same style and spirit. A cosy and feminine room, it has pretty pink wallpaper and the surfaces are decorated with figurines made by Meissen and Worcester, silver boxes, photos in silver and gilt frames and vases of fresh roses. Georgian and Regency furniture is intermixed with pieces from later periods, including a comfortable looking pink floral armchair drawn up to the fire.

 

Seated at a Hepplewhite bonheur de jour* writing letters and sipping tea from a gilt Royal Doulton cup is the Duchess of Whitby. Aged in her fifties, she looks not unlike Queen Mary with her morning gown showing the abundant curves of her matronly figure. Her hair is still set in the ornate style that was popular before the war. Several strings of pearls hang around her neck and cascade down her front and diamonds wink cheekily at her wrists and on her fingers.

 

The Duchess looks up from her tea. “Thank you, Whitby.”

 

“Tea, Your Grace?”

 

“Oh yes! I…” Lettice begins.

 

“No! Thank you, Whitby.” the Duchess speaks sharply over her guest. “Miss Chetwynd is a busy modern woman and hasn’t time to take tea with an old matron like me.”

 

“Oh yes,” Lettice replies awkwardly with a false bonhomie to cover her embarrassment at the Duchess’ snub. “Yes, I am, frightfully busy just today.”

 

“Very good, Your Grace.” The Footman retreats and quietly closes the door to the morning room behind him.

 

The security and warmth Lettice felt moments ago as she stepped across the threshold of the morning room dies away, leaving her cold and decidedly uncomfortable. Silence falls thickly between the two women, with only the soft tick of the clock on the mantle and the twitter of a blackbird on a branch near the window outside to break it. The Duchess turns back to her bonheur de jour and slides open a drawer above her glittering array of silver and crystal ink pots.

 

“It’s very fortunate that your footman’s name is Whitby, Your Grace.” Lettice says nervously in an effort to break the silence. “It is easy to remember.”

 

“Indeed, and that’s why I christened him thus.” the Duchess replies haughtily, her back still turned as she rifles in another drawer for something else. “All the first footmen are always named Whitby, despite what name they may have been born with.”

 

“Oh.” Lettice says awkwardly. “At home in Glynes**, Mamma and Pappa just call the footmen by their surnames.”

 

“Yes, well,” the Duchess turns in her seat, resting her thick arms on the delicate arm of her chair and fixes Lettice, still standing in the middle of the morning room’s main carpet, with a steely stare. “You come from a rather inconsequential provincial family, Miss Chetwynd.”

 

“With all due respect, Your Grace,” Lettice colours at the slur to her family. “You and Mamma are cousins.”

 

“Shall we dispense with the pleasantries, Miss Chetwynd?” the Duchess asks, ignoring Lettice’s remark.

 

Lettice, finding none of this encounter with her former client at all pleasant, does not reply.

 

“Good!” the Duchess snaps as if Lettice’s silence is agreement. “Your father contacted me because you have seen fit to complain to him that my account with your,” She sniffs derisively. “Establishment, is in arrears.”

 

“Well, I have sent you two politely worded reminders, Your Grace, and paid a few calls, and telep….”

 

“When Sadie telephoned me,” the Duchess cuts Lettice off with her sharp tone. “I was under the impression that as a newly established interior designer, you would be grateful for a commission from someone as well known and influential as I am.”

 

“Oh, I was… I am, Your Grace.”

 

“Yet you still expect to be paid, for what you have done?”

 

“Well, yes Your Grace. It was a business transaction.”

 

“And after all I have done, by graciously allowing you to redecorate my small reception room.”

 

“Well, I did discuss the approximation of costs with your steward.”

 

“Yes, yes!” the older woman testily sweeps away whatever else Lettice was going to say with a bejewelled hand. “This cheque will cover any amount you claim to be, in arrears.”

 

The Duchess scribbles in a blue cheque book with a silver fountain pen, her flourishing signature scratching across the bank’s paper. She stamps the cheque heavily with her silver ink blotter and withdraws the cheque, the perforation of the paper sounding crisply across the room as it tears from the book. She holds it out with obvious distain to Lettice, who approaches quickly and takes hold of it.

 

There is an awkward moment when both women hold either end of the cheque, both determined that they are the ones in the right. Then with an almost imperceptible sigh, the Duchess releases it into Lettice’s welcome grasp.

 

The Duchess turns back to her bonheur de jour and presses a silver bell to her left. Its shrill ding rings clearly, summoning a footman or another member of the Duchess’ staff, and indicating that their meeting is concluded.

 

“Your Grace?” the same footman who escorted Lettice in steps into the room.

 

“Whitby, Miss Chetwynd is leaving.” the Duchess replies dismissively. “Kindly show her out.”

 

“Miss Chetwynd,” the footman says politely with an almost apologetic smile.

 

“Oh Miss Chetwynd,” the Duchess calls out just as Lettice turns away to go.

 

“Yes, Your Grace?” she asks, turning back, trying as hard as she can to retain her good manners so as not to ignore the rude old woman and storm out.

 

“Miss Chetwynd, kindly tell your mother, that the next time she dares to telephone me, asking me for a favour for one of her ungrateful children, I no longer have a cousin named Sadie.”

 

The footman quickly glances down, obviously embarrassed by his mistress’ remark to the pretty young lady whom he assumed to be a guest.

 

Resorting to an inner strength she did not know she possessed, Lettice manages to retain her composure as she replies with an edge of defiance, “With pleasure, Your Grace.”

 

Thrusting the cheque into her crocodile handbag, Lettice walks purposefully from the room with her head held high, knowing that she is in the right, both financially and morally. The Duchess may be higher ranked than she or her parents, but that is all the more reason why her good breeding should prevent her from having treated Lettice so poorly.

 

As the footman quietly closes the shiny black painted door behind Lettice and she descends the steps to Fitzroy Square, she knows that she will never again set foot inside the Duchess of Whitby’s Fitzrovia townhouse. However, she also knows that as her reputation as an interior designer of exquisite taste is growing, she will no longer need the Duchess’ help to promote her business.

 

*A bonheur de jour is a type of lady's writing desk. It was introduced in Paris by one of the interior decorators and purveyors of fashionable novelties called marchands-merciers around 1760, and speedily became intensely fashionable. Decorated on all sides, it was designed to sit in the middle of a room so that it could be admired from any angle.

 

**Glynes is the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham.

 

Although cluttered and somewhat old fashioned by 1920s standards, the Duchess’ Edwardian style morning room is very elegant and would have been typical of a woman of her age in the upper aristocracy at this time. The upper classes, whether titled or not, tended to enjoy their opulent and lavish interiors. Only the brave or modern thinker would have swept away the accumulation of antiques over the generations for the clean lined, stripped back Art Deco interiors fashionable in the new houses, flats and hotels being built around Britain and the world. This upper-class domestic scene is different from what you might think, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures, some of which come from my own childhood.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:

 

The Eighteenth Century Hepplewhite bonheur du jour, which is hand decorated with leaves and gilding, was made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq. As shown in this photo, it has a fold down top and every drawer opens and closes easily: even the one in the apex of the desk. The Hepplewhite chair is also made by Bespaq.

 

On the desk are some 1:12 artisan miniature ink bottles, stamps, a blotter, a roller, bell and letter rack, all made by the Little Green Workshop in England who specialise in high end, high quality miniatures. The ink bottles are made from tiny faceted crystal beads and have sterling silver bottoms and lids. The ink blotter is sterling silver too and has a blotter made of real black felt, cut meticulously to size to fit snugly inside the frame. The stamp is made of brass. The silver letter rack which contains some 1:12 size correspondence, also made by the Little Green Workshop. There are also three pens and a letter opener also made of silver made by the Little Green Workshop. Atop a bill and some correspondence, which were made meticulously by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, sits a blue Bank of England cheque book, sold through Shepherd’s Miniatures in England. The gilt Art Nouveau teacup, featuring a copy of a Royal Doulton pattern, comes from a larger tea set which has been hand decorated by beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.

 

The walnut Queen Anne china cabinet in the corner of the room has a mirrored back and glass shelves. It is one of the first pieces of miniature furniture I was ever given when I was seven years old. It is filled with an array of china pieces I have acquired from various places over many years.

 

The Duchess’ family photos on the mantlepiece are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames are from various suppliers, but all are metal.

 

The white and gold Georgian Revival clock on the mantlepiece is a 1:12 artisan miniature made by Hall’s Miniature Clocks, supplied through Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniatures in England.

 

The Worcester canaries on the mantlepiece and the Meissen gentleman and lady on the sideboard were cast from pewter by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. They were hand-painted and gilded by me.

 

The silver Regency tea caddy and the Victorian biscuit barrel on the two tier Regency walnut occasional table are also made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland. The glass vase on the table is made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering in England. It is especially fine. If you look closely you will see that it is decorated with lattices of fine threads of glass to give it a faceted Art Deco look. The gold roses in the vase and the pink vases on the sideboard were also hand made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures.

 

The round pictures hanging on ribbons were made by me when I was twelve years old. The ribbons came from my maternal Grandmother’s sewing box, and the frames are actually buttons from her button box. The images inside (two Victorian children paintings on one and three Redoute roses on the other) were cut from a magazine. The other gilt framed paintings around the room were made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States.

 

The white resin Adam style fireplace is a recent acquisition. It and the Regency walnut two tier table came from an E-Bay dealer who specialises in re-selling high quality miniatures.

 

The pink floral armchair by the fireplace is made by Bespaq.

 

The Persian carpets beneath the furniture are hand made by Mackay and Gerrish in Sydney, Australia.

Locomotive Services Limited 90001 INTERCITY (Royal Scot) made a visit to London Euston to supply power to GWR's Night Riveria Sleeper that was diverted away from London Paddington. It is seen photographed having uncoupled from 57605/57603 as it prepares to head back to Crewe on 0Z53.

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however we are not in Lettice’s flat, and whilst we have not travelled that far physically across London, the tough streets and blind alleys of Poplar in London’s East End is a world away from Lettice’s rarefied and privileged world. On Tuesday Mrs. Boothby, Lettice’s charwoman*, discovered that Edith, Lettice’s maid, didn’t have a sewing machine when the Cockney cleaner found the young maid cutting out the pieces for a new frock. Mrs. Boothby made overtures towards Edith, inviting her to her home in Poplar in London’s East End with an air of mystery, saying she might be able to help her with her predicament of a sewing machine.

 

Friends of Lettice, newlyweds Margot and Dickie Channon, have been gifted a Recency country “cottage residence” called ‘Chi an Treth’ (Cornish for ‘beach house’) in Penzance as a wedding gift by the groom’s father, the Marquess of Taunton. Margot in her desire to turn ‘Chi an Treth’ from a dark Regency house to a more modern country house flooded with light, has commissioned Lettice to help redecorate some of the rooms in a lighter and more modern style, befitting a modern couple like the Channons. Lettice has decamped to Penzance for a week where she is overseeing the painting and papering of ‘Chi an Treth’s’ drawing room, dining room and main reception room, before fitting it out with a lorryload of new and repurposed furnishings, artwork and objets d’arte that she has had sent down weeks prior to her arrival. In her mistress’ absence, Edith has more free time on her hands, and so she was able to agree to Mrs. Boothby’s mysterious invitation. Even though she is happy with her current arrangement to take any items she wants to sew home to her parent’s house in Harlesden, where she can use her mother’s Singer** sewing machine on her days off. The opportunity of gaining access to a sewing machine of her own is too good for Edith to refuse.

 

So it is that we find ourselves in the kitchen cum living room of Mrs. Boothby’s tenement in Merrybrook Place in Poplar. By her own admission, it is a haven of cleanliness amidst the squalor of surrounding Poplar. Mrs. Boothby was just about to explain to Edith who someone called Ken is, when she was interrupted by the sound of his whistle. Moments later the door to Mrs. Boothby’s house flew open and the frame was filled by a tall bulking man wearing a flat cap with a parcel beneath his right arm wrapped in newspaper and tied up with twine.

 

“Ken!” Mrs. Boothby gasps, releasing a fresh plume of smoke as she exhales after drawing on her lit cigarette. “You’re ‘ome at last.”

 

“’Ome now!” he replies loudly and laconically as he steps across the threshold.

 

“Well don’t just stand there in the door, lettin’ all the cold air in and the ‘ot air out!” Mrs. Boothby scolds. “Come inside wiv you, and close the door behind you.”

 

The man pushes the door closed behind him with rather more force than is required and it slams loudly, and his violent slamming makes the crockery in the dresser behind Edith rattle. “Closed now!” he says defiantly.

 

Rather startled by the arrival of this man, Edith looks up at him with wide eyes filled with concern. Without the sun from the courtyard outside blinding her, Edith can see the man towering over them is very tall and muscular beneath his clothes, and rather than being Mrs. Boothby’s age, as she thought he was at first, she finds he is actually much younger. Clean shaven, he is dressed in a long grey coat and he has a collarless blue and white striped shirt and dusty black trousers held up by suspenders on beneath. There is a bright red and white spotted handkerchief tied around his neck. His face is as white as Mrs. Boothby’s, but his face is quite unlike hers. Where her face is drawn and pinched, his is fresh and rounded. He looks to Mrs. Boothby with bright eyes which are just like hers.

 

“Ken!” Mrs. Boothby says admonishingly. “What ‘ave I told you ‘bout slammin’ the door! Lawd you’ll frighten Old Mr. and Mrs. Blackfriar upstairs, not to mention Mrs. Conway next door.”

 

“Sorry Ma!” Ken replies in the same loud and rather toneless voice. It is then that he sees the Regency china teapot on the table. “Good pot, Ma!” He exclaims. “Good pot!”

 

“Well of course it’s the good pot, Ken. You knew I was havin’ someone ‘ome for tea today. I told you that this mornin’. You remember don’t you?”

 

“Nice lady!” he says loudly, and then suddenly he notices Edith sitting, rather frightened in his presence, in her chair. Realising Mrs. Boothby has company he quickly whisks off his cap with his empty left hand, revealing a mop of unruly curly red hair.

 

“That’s right. The nice lady I work wiv up the West End. Nah, Ken, this his ‘er. This is Miss Watsford. Edith, this is my son, Kenneth, but we just call him Ken, don’t we son?”

 

“I’m Ken! That’s me!”

 

“Yes son,” Mrs. Boothby says soothingly. “That’s you alright. You’re my big little Ken, ain’t cha?”

 

“Son?” Edith gasps. It is then she suddenly sees the gormless grin that teases up the corners of his mouth and plumps his lips and the childish delight highlighting his glinting eyes as he looks down at her. Only then does she realise that Ken might be big and bulky, but he’s never hurt another living being.

 

“How do, Miss Watsford!” Ken says dropping his flat cap on the table and thrusting the paper wrapped parcel out in front of him like an offering.

 

“Nah, nah!” Mrs. Boothby fusses, dropping the cigarette she holds in her hand into the ashtray and standing up. “Miss Watsford don’t want that right nah. ‘Ere.” She takes one of the shortbread biscuits from the plate and gives it to the bulking lad. “Nah, go sit dahn on your bed and play wiv your toys for a bit, and let Miss Watsford and I ‘ave a nice chat. Then you can show ‘er what you got when I tell you. Alright?”

 

“Alright Ma.”

 

“Good boy.” She reaches up and runs a hand along her child’s soft cheek before planting a tender kiss on it. “And later, after I’ve taken Miss Watsford back ‘ome, I’ll read you one of them Beatrix Potter books you like. Alright?”

 

“Peter Rabbit?” Ken points to the teapot of the rabbit coming out of a watering can standing on one of the upper shelves of the dresser.

 

“Yes if you want, son. Nah, go sit dahn on your bed, and I’ll call you in a bit.”

 

Snatching up his cap, Ken quietly plods over to a bed that Edith hadn’t noticed before, in the corner of the room. Around and on it sit a few precious toys: a stuffed rabbit and a teddy bear, both clearly very well loved, and a few children’s books.

 

“Son?” Edith says, her eyes darting about the room as she puts the pieces of Ken’s presence together in her mind. “Oh Mrs. Boothby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had a son. I… I…” she stammers in an embarrassed fashion. “I just assumed that with your husband passed away, and no mention of a child.”

 

“That I ‘ad no children.” Mrs. Boothby completes Edith’s unspoken assumption.

 

“I actually thought you might have had a son who… well, who died in the war.”

 

“Why would you fink that, Edith dearie?” Mrs. Boothby gives her a quizzical look.

 

“Well, there are so many widows and grieving mothers about.”

 

The old woman sits back down again and releases another fruity cough. As she clears her throat roughly she picks up her cigarette and continues. “Well ‘how were you to know that I ‘ad a son, dead or otherwise, if I ain’t never told you. ‘Ere, ‘ave some more tea.” She lifts the pot and pours Edith some fresh tea into her half empty cup.

 

“So how old is your son, Mrs. Boothby?”

 

“Well that depends who you ask. If you ask me, ‘e’s fourty-two, cos that’s ‘ow old ‘e is. I brought ‘im into the world in April eighteen eighty.” Then she pauses before continuing. “But if you ask any of them fancy do-gooder doctors, they’d tell you ‘e’s six, cos that ‘ow old they say ‘e is in ‘is own ‘ead.”

 

The old Cockney woman sighs and takes a long drag on her cigarette, the paper and tobacco crackling as she draws deeply, the sound clear in the sudden heavy silence that hangs thickly in the room like the acrid smoke of her cigarette. Edith looks at Ken sitting in his bed a childlike smile of delight brightening his face, playing happily like a six year old holding the floppy arms of his toy rabbit, making him dance on his knee. Mrs. Boothby follows Edith’s gaze with her own sharp eyes before continuing.

 

“So, nah you see why it’s a bit easier for me not to mention that I ‘ave a son.” She exhales another plume of bitter blueish grey smoke. “Not that I’m ashamed of ‘im, cos I ain’t. “E’s a good lad ‘e is, but ‘e’s got ‘is own cross to bear. I ‘ad problems you see, when ‘e was born. I’d been scrubbin’ floors right up ‘till me waters broke almost, what wiv Bill bein’ away in the merchant navy and ‘is pay not coverin’ all I ‘ad to pay for. I ‘ad to make ends meet someow and ‘ave everythin’ ready for Ken when ‘e arrived. Anyway, ‘e must ‘ave been in the wrong position, ‘cos the midwife couldn’t get ‘im in the right spot and she ‘ad to get the doctor.” She takes another long drag of her cigarette before stumping it out in the ashtray as she blows out another plume of cigarette smoke. She takes out her papers and quietly begins rolling another cigarette. “Not that I wanted ‘im. I couldn’t afford a doctor, but ‘e’s one of them do-gooder doctors what don’t charge those what can’t afford to pay, and that was me. I needed every brass farvin’ I could get my grubby ‘ands on. They said Ken didn’t get enough oxygen when ‘e was being born and as such that ‘is mind wouldn’t develop much beyond a six year old. That bloody Irish Catholic priest offered to take Ken away.” Mrs. Boothby spits angrily before putting the cigarette between her lip and lighting it.

 

“Priest!” Ken calls angrily from his truckle bed. “Priest bad!”

 

“Yes son! The priest is bad, but ‘e ain’t ‘ere so don’t you trouble your pretty ‘ead about it.” Mrs. Boothby says comfortingly. She looks over at her son, and just like a cloud momentarily blocking out the sun, Ken’s angry spat dissipates and he happily mumbles something to his rabbit before laughing.

 

“But you kept Ken.” Edith ventures gingerly as she watches Mrs. Boothby draw the rolled cigarette paper filled with tobacco to her lips and lick it, before rolling it closed.

 

“I ain’t no Irish trash. I’m a Protestant, not that I’m all that bovvered wiv God, and certainly not that Irish God when the priest said I should just give Ken up and put ‘im in one of them ‘ouses for unwanted kiddies with mental problems. But Mrs. Conway next door told ‘im to clear off quick smart. She told me that all kiddies is a blessin’, and she was right.”

 

“So you raised him then.”

 

“I did!” Mrs. Boothby replies proudly. “And when Bill came ‘ome from bein’ on the sea, I knew Mrs. Conway was right. Bill and I loved Ken, faults ‘n all. Mrs. Conway was right. Kiddies are a blessin’. Bill and I became closer ‘cos of Ken. ‘E still drank, but not like ‘e did before Ken were born. It were our job to raise ‘im propper and make sure ‘e could take care of ‘imself, and Bill took that serious like. They says it takes a village to raise a child, and well, I got a village right ‘ere outside this door. Mrs. Conway looked after Ken just like any uvver kiddie when Bill went back to sea and I took up charring again.”

 

“So that’s why you said you owe her so much.” Edith says, suddenly understanding Mrs. Boothby’s statement about Mrs. Conway earlier.

 

The old woman nods. “And cos ‘e was raised wiv all the uvver kiddies, they all grew up togevva, and they protected Ken, ‘till ‘e could protect ‘imself. When ‘e were older, when Bill were ‘ome, he taught Ken ‘ow to box, not to fight like some ‘round ‘ere, but just to defend ‘imself. You know what I mean?”

 

Edith nods. “Somehow, I suspect Ken wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Edith muses, smiling over at Ken.

 

“You got that right, Edith dearie. When Ken were a bit older, course ‘e couldn’t do school wiv the uvver kiddies, not bein’ as good wiv words and numbers like them, but ‘e were a big and strong lad, so I got ‘im a job wiv the local rag’ n’ bone man***.”

 

“So Ken is accepted in the neighbourhood then?”

 

“Course ‘e is, dearie. “E’s a local lad, and we look after our own dahn ‘ere. All the ladies ‘round these parts love ‘im when ‘e comes by wiv the wagon, cos they know Ken won’t try and cheat ‘em out of nuffink, and Mr. Pargiter and ‘is boys love ‘im too cos ‘e’s good for business, and they take good care of ‘im.”

 

“Did he have to go to war, Mrs. Boothby?” She looks again at the happy man now playing with both his bear and his rabbit.

 

“Fank the Lawd, no!” Mrs. Boothby casts her eyes to the stained ceiling above. “‘E were deemed mentally unfit for service,” The old woman blows out a ragged breath full of cigarette smoke before continuing a moment later. “And Lawd knows I ain’t never been so grateful as I were that day that our Ken came out baked the way ‘e did. Lads came ‘ome from the war more mentally unfit than the way they went to it. More mentally unfit than our Ken!”

 

“And some never came home.” Edith mumbles, dropping her head sadly.

 

Mrs. Boothby reaches out a careworn hand and takes hold of Edith’s squeezing it comfortingly.

 

“’Ere, let’s not get all upset when the sun is shin’ outside and Ken’s ‘ere wiv us.” Mrs. Boothby says, her voice full of false joviality as she blinks back tears. “Nah workin’ for Mr. Pargiter like ‘e does, Ken comes across a lot of good stuff. Ain’t that right, Ken?”

 

“What Ma?” Ken asks expectantly, raising his head from his toys and looking up happily at his old mother in her chair.

 

“You comes across lots of nice fings when you take Mr. Pargiter’s cart ‘round, don’t you?” she asks him patiently.

 

“Yes Ma.”

 

“Includin’ somfink you wanna show to Miss Watsford, ain’t that right, Ken?”

 

“Yes Ma!” Ken replies excitedly bouncing on his truckle bed, making the wooden frame squeak under his weight.

 

“So come show what you got to Miss Watsford then.” Mrs. Boothby says to her son encouragingly.

 

Obediently Ken tears the newspaper and twine enthusiastically from around the parcel he was carrying when he arrived home. Moving the gilt blue and white plate of uneaten shortbread biscuits to the middle of the table, Mrs. Boothby makes way for Ken’s surprise. With a groan he deposits a hand treadle Singer sewing machine on the edge of the table. Edith gasps.

 

“There you go Edith, dearie!” Mrs. Boothby says proudly.

 

“Oh Mrs. Boothby, I… I can’t afford this on a maid’s wage.” Edith stammers.

 

“You don’t know ‘ow much it is yet.” the old woman counters with a doubtful look.

 

“Well it’s sure to be exp…” Edith begins, but is silenced by Mrs. Boothby’s raised hand.

 

“Ken, ‘ow much Mr. Pargiter sell this to you for?” Mrs. Boothby asks her son.

 

“Five bob, Mum.” Ken replies proudly, smiling his gormless grin, turning his head, first to his mother and then Edith for approval.

 

“Well that sounds a fair price from old Mr. Pargiter.” Mrs. Boothby confirms as she eyes up the machine. “So if we add on an extra shillin’ for Ken’s time, that’ll be six bob, Edith.”

 

Edith gasps. “Six shillings!” She runs her hand lovingly along the machine’s black painted treadle and admires the beautiful gold and red painted decoration. “But it’s worth so much more than that.”

 

“But that ain’t what it’s bein’ sold for, Edith dearie. It’s six shillins. You fink six shillins a good price to sell this ‘ere sewin’ machine to Miss Watsford, Ken my boy?”

 

“Yes Ma!” Ken replies, nodding emphatically.

 

“Well, you ‘eard the man. Six shillins, that’s the price then, Edith dearie.” Mrs. Boothby says with a cheeky smile. "Take it or leave it.”

 

“Oh Mrs. Boothby, Ken…” Edith breathes with delight. “How can I say no?”

 

“You can’t.” Mrs. Boothby concludes as she blows out a final billowing cloud of cigarette smoke and squashes the stub of her cigarette into the ashtray with the others. “Nah, just pay me the six shillins when I come in on Tuesday.”

 

“Oh Ken,” Edith says, looking up at the tall man with his beaming smile and glittering eyes. “How can I ever thank you?”

 

*A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.

 

**The Singer Corporation is an American manufacturer of consumer sewing machines, first established as I. M. Singer & Co. in 1851 by Isaac M. Singer with New York lawyer Edward C. Clark. Best known for its sewing machines, it was renamed Singer Manufacturing Company in 1865, then the Singer Company in 1963. In 1867, the Singer Company decided that the demand for their sewing machines in the United Kingdom was sufficiently high to open a local factory in Glasgow on John Street. The Vice President of Singer, George Ross McKenzie selected Glasgow because of its iron making industries, cheap labour, and shipping capabilities. Demand for sewing machines outstripped production at the new plant and by 1873, a new larger factory was completed on James Street, Bridgeton. By that point, Singer employed over two thousand people in Scotland, but they still could not produce enough machines. In 1882 the company purchased forty-six acres of farmland in Clydebank and built an even bigger factory. With nearly a million square feet of space and almost seven thousand employees, it was possible to produce on average 13,000 machines a week, making it the largest sewing machine factory in the world. The Clydebank factory was so productive that in 1905, the U.S. Singer Company set up and registered the Singer Manufacturing Company Ltd. in the United Kingdom.

 

***A rag-and-bone man is a person who goes from street to street in a vehicle or with a horse and cart buying things such as old clothes and furniture. He would then sell these items on to someone else for a small profit.

 

This cluttered, yet cheerful domestic scene is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.

 

The Singer hand treadle sewing machine with its hand painted detail I acquired from American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel as part of a lot of her miniature hats from a milliner’s tableau.

 

Mrs. Boothby’s beloved collection of decorative “best” blue and white china on the kitchen table come from various online miniature stockists through E-Bay. The Scottish shortbreads on the cake plate have been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. They actually come in their own 1:12 miniature artisan tin, complete with appropriate labelling.

 

Also on the table are Mrs. Boothby’s Player’s Navy Cut cigarette tin and Swan Vesta matches, which are 1:12 miniatures hand made by Jonesy’s Miniatures in England. The black ashtray is also an artisan piece, the bae of which is filled with “ash”. The tray as well as having grey ash in it, also has a 1:12 cigarette which rests on its lip (it is affixed there). Made by Nottingham based tobacconist manufacturer John Player and Sons, Player’s Medium Navy Cut was the most popular by far of the three Navy Cut brands (there was also Mild and Gold Leaf, mild being today’s rich flavour). Two thirds of all the cigarettes sold in Britain were Player’s and two thirds of these were branded as Player’s Medium Navy Cut. In January 1937, Player’s sold nearly 3.5 million cigarettes (which included 1.34 million in London). Production continued to grow until at its peak in the late 1950s, Player’s was employing 11,000 workers (compared to 5,000 in 1926) and producing 15 brands of pipe tobacco and 11 brands of cigarettes. Nowadays the brands “Player” and “John Player Special” are owned and commercialised by Imperial Brands (formerly the Imperial Tobacco Company). Swan Vestas is a brand name for a popular brand of ‘strike-anywhere’ matches. Shorter than normal pocket matches they are particularly popular with smokers and have long used the tagline ‘the smoker’s match’ although this has been replaced by the prefix ‘the original’ on the current packaging. Swan Vestas matches are manufactured under the House of Swan brand, which is also responsible for making other smoking accessories such as cigarette papers, flints and filter tips. The matches are manufactured by Swedish Match in Sweden using local, sustainably grown aspen. The Swan brand began in 1883 when the Collard & Kendall match company in Bootle on Merseyside near Liverpool introduced ‘Swan wax matches’. These were superseded by later versions including ‘Swan White Pine Vestas’ from the Diamond Match Company. These were formed of a wooden splint soaked in wax. They were finally christened ‘Swan Vestas’ in 1906 when Diamond merged with Bryant and May and the company enthusiastically promoted the Swan brand. By the 1930s ‘Swan Vestas’ had become ‘Britain’s best-selling match’.

 

The various bowls, cannisters and dishes and the kettle I have acquired from various online miniatures stockists throughout the United Kingdom, America and Australia.

 

The black Victorian era stove and the ladderback chair on the left of the table and the small table directly behind it are all miniature pieces I have had since I was a child. The ladderback chair on the right came from a deceased estate of a miniatures collector in Sydney.

 

The grey marbleised fireplace behind the stove and the trough sink in the corner of the kitchen come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Miniatures in the United Kingdom. Mrs. Boothby’s picture gallery in the corner of the room also came from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop.

 

The green wallpaper is an authentic replica of real Art Nouveau wallpaper from the first decade of the Twentieth Century which I have printed onto paper. The floorboards are a print of a photo taken of some floorboards that I scaled to 1:12 size to try and maintain a realistic look.

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however we are not in Lettice’s flat, and whilst we have not travelled that far physically across London, the tough streets, laneways and blind alleys of Poplar in London’s East End is a world away from Lettice’s rarefied and privileged world. On Tuesday Mrs. Boothby, Lettice’s charwoman*, discovered that Edith, Lettice’s maid, didn’t have a sewing machine when the Cockney cleaner found the young maid cutting out the pieces for a new frock. Mrs. Boothby made overtures towards Edith, inviting her to her home in Poplar in London’s East End with an air of mystery, saying she might be able to help her with her predicament of a sewing machine.

 

Friends of Lettice, newlyweds Margot and Dickie Channon, have been gifted a Recency country “cottage residence” called ‘Chi an Treth’ (Cornish for ‘beach house’) in Penzance as a wedding gift by the groom’s father, the Marquess of Taunton. Margot in her desire to turn ‘Chi an Treth’ from a dark Regency house to a more modern country house flooded with light, has commissioned Lettice to help redecorate some of the rooms in a lighter and more modern style, befitting a modern couple like the Channons. Lettice has decamped to Penzance for a week where she is overseeing the painting and papering of ‘Chi an Treth’s’ drawing room, dining room and main reception room, before fitting it out with a lorryload of new and repurposed furnishings, artwork and objets d’arte that she has had sent down weeks prior to her arrival. In her mistress’ absence, Edith has more free time on her hands, and so she was able to agree to Mrs. Boothby’s mysterious invitation. Even though she is happy with her current arrangement to take any items she wants to sew home to her parent’s house in Harlesden, where she can use her mother’s Singer** sewing machine on her days off. The opportunity of gaining access to a sewing machine of her own is too good for Edith to refuse.

 

Now the two women walk through the narrow streets of Poplar, passing along walkways, some concrete, some made of wooden planks and some just dirt, between tenements of two and three stories high. The streets they traverse are dim with the weakening afternoon light from the autumn sky blocked out by the overhanging upper floors of the buildings and the strings of laundry hanging limply along lines between them. Although Edith is not unfamiliar with the part of Whitechapel around Petticoat Lane*** where she shops for second hand clothes to alter and for haberdashery to do them, she still feels nervous in the unfamiliar maze of streets that Mrs. Boothby is guiding her down, and she sticks closely next to or directly behind the old Cockney char. The air is filled with a mixture of strong odours: paraffin oil, boiled cabbage and fried food intermixed with the pervasive stench of damp and unwashed bodies and clothes. Self-consciously, Edith pulls her three quarter length coat more tightly around her in an effort to protect herself from the stench.

 

“Below!” comes a Cockney female voice from above as a sash window groans in protest as it is opened.

 

“Ere! Look out, Edith dearie!” Mrs. Boothby exclaims, grabbing Edith by the arm and roughly pulling the maid out of the way, thrusting her behind her.

 

A moment later the air is filled with the harsh sound of slops splattering against the concrete path, and a pool of dirty liquid stains the concrete a dark muddy brown as it slowly dribbles down into a shallow drain that runs down the middle of the laneway.

 

“Wouldn’t want your nice clothes to get spoilt nah, would we dearie.” Mrs. Boothby says as she turns and smiles into Edith’s startled face.

 

“Was that?” Edith begins but doesn’t finish her question as she peers at the puddle draining away, leaving lumps on the path.

 

“I shouldn’t look too closely if I were you, dearie.” Mrs. Boothby says kindly in a matter-of-fact way. “If you ‘ave to ask, you’re better off not knowin’. That’s my opinion, anyway. Come on. Not much further nah.”

 

“You… you will take me home, won’t you Mrs. Boothby?” Edith asks a little nervously as they continue their progress down the lane which she notices is getting narrower and darker as they go.

 

“Course I will, dearie! You can rely on old Ida Boothby. I know these streets like the back of my ‘and. Youse perfectly safe wiv me.”

 

The laneway ends suddenly, and Edith is blinded for a moment by bright sunlight as they step out into a rookery**** with two storey Victorian tenements of grey stone and red brick either side of a concrete courtyard with a narrow drain running down its centre. The original builders or owners of the tenements obviously have meant for the sad buildings to be at least a little homely, with shutters painted a Brunswick green hanging to either side of the ground floor windows. Looking up, Edith notices several window boxes of brightly coloured geraniums and other flowers suspended from some of the upper floor windowsills. Women of different ages walk in and out of the open front doors, or sit in them on stools doing mending, knitting or peeling potatoes, all chatting to one another, whilst children skip and play on the concrete of the courtyard.

 

“Welcome to Merrybrook Place,” Mrs. Boothby says with a hint of pride in her voice. “My ‘ome. Though Lawd knows why they called it that. I ain’t never seen no brook, merry or otherwise, runnin’ dahn ‘ere, unless it’s the slops from the privvies dahn the end.” She points to the end of the rookery where, overlooked by some older tenements of brick and wooden shingling most likely from the early Nineteenth Century, a couple of ramshackle privies stand. “So just watch your step, Edith dearie. We don’t want you steppin’ your nice shoes in nuffink nasty.” She gives her a warm smile. “Come on.”

 

As they start walking up the rookery, one woman wrapped in a paisley shawl stands in her doorway staring at Edith with undisguised curiosity and perhaps a little jealousy as she casts her critical gaze over her simple, yet smart, black coat and dyed straw hat decorated with silk flowers and feathers.

 

“Wanna paint a picture Mrs. Friedmann?” Mrs. Boothby calls out hotly to her, challenging her open stare with a defensive one of her own. “Might last you longer, your royal ‘ighness!” She makes a mock over exaggerated curtsey towards her, hitching up the hem of her workday skirts.

 

The woman tilts her head up slightly, sniffs in disgust and looks down her nose with spite at both Edith and the Cockney charwoman before muttering something in a language Edith doesn’t need to speak to understand. Turning on her heel, the woman slams her door sharply behind her, the noise echoing off the hard surfaces of the court.

 

“Who was that, Mrs. Boothby?” Edith asks nervously.

 

“Lawd love you dearie,” chortles Mrs. Boothby, the action resulting on one of her fruity hacking coughs that seem remarkably loud from such a diminutive figure. “That’s that nasty local Yid***** matchmaker what I told you ‘bout.” Raising her voice she continues, speaking loudly at the closed door. “Golda Friedmann goes around wiv ‘er nose in the air wrapped up in that fancy paisley shawl actin’ like she was the Queen of Russia ‘erself. But she ain’t! She’s no better than the rest of us.”

 

As Mrs. Boothby trudges on up the rookery another doorway opens and an old woman with a figure that shows many years of childbirth steps out, dressed in a black skirt and an old fashioned but pretty floral print Edwardian high necked blouse. “Afternoon Ida.”

 

“Oh! Afternoon Lil!” Mrs. Boothby replies. “Oh Lil! I got somefink in ‘ere for you.” She opens up her capacious blue beaded bag and fossicks around making the beads rattle before withdrawing a couple of thin pieces of soap, one bar a bright buttercup yellow, a second pink and the last white. “’Ere. For the kiddies.”

 

“Oh fanks ever so, Ida!” the other woman replies, gratefully accepting the pieces of soap in her careworn hands.

 

“Edith,” Mrs. Boothby calls. “This ‘ere is my neighbour, Mrs. Conway.” A couple of cheeky little faces with sallow cheeks, but bright eyes, poke out from behind Mrs. Conway’s skirts and smile up shyly at Edith with curiosity. “Hullo kiddies.” Mrs. Boothby says to them. “Nah sweeties from me today. Sorry. Mrs. Conway, this ‘ere is Miss Watsford, what works for one of my ladies up in Mayfair.”

 

“Oh ‘ow do you do?” Mrs. Conway says, wiping her hands down her skirts before reaching out a hand to Edith.

 

“How do you do, Mrs. Conway.” Edith replies with a gentle smile, taking her hand, and feeling her rough flesh rub against her own as the old woman’s bony fingers entwine hers.

 

“Well, must be getting on, Lil,” Mrs. Boothby says. “Ta-ta.”

 

“Ta-ra, Ida. Ta-ra Miss Watsford.” Mrs. Conway replies before turning back and shooing the children inside good naturedly.

 

“Goodbye Mrs, Conway. It was nice to meet you.” Edith says.

 

At the next door, one painted Brunswick green like the shutters, Mrs. Boothby stops and takes out a large string of keys from her bag and promptly finds the one for her own front door. As the key engages with the lock the door groans in protest as it slowly opens. The old woman says, “Just stand ‘ere in the doorway, Edith dearie, while I’ll open the curtains.”

 

She disappears into the gloom, which vanishes a moment later as with a flourish, she flings back some heavy red velvet curtains, flooding the room with light from the front window. It takes a moment for Edith’s eyes to adjust as the old Cockney woman stands for a moment in the pool of light, so brilliant after the gloom, surrounded by a floating army of illuminated dust motes tumbling over one another in the air. As her eyes adjust, Edith discerns things within the tenement front room: a kitchen table not too unlike her own at Cavendish Mews, a couple of sturdy ladderback chairs, an old fashioned black leaded stove and a sink in the corner.

 

“Close the door behind you and come on in, dearie. The ‘ouse is still warmish from this mornin’.” Mrs. Boothby says kindly as she tosses her beaded handbag carelessly onto the table where it lands with a thud and the jangle of beads. “Take a seat and I’ll get the range goin’ and pop the kettle on for a nice cup of Rosie-Lee******! I dunno ‘bout you, but I’m parched.”

 

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith replies as she closes the door.

 

Shutting out the unpleasant mixture of odours outside with the closing of the door, Edith is comforted by the smells of carbolic soap and lavender. Looking about she notices a couple of little muslin bags hanging from the curtains.

 

“Good. Nah, give me your ‘at ‘n coat and I’ll ‘ang them up.” Mrs. Boothby says. Noticing Edith’s gaze upon the pouches she explains. “Lavender to ‘elp keep the moths and the smells from the privy at bay.”

 

“Oh.” Edith replies laconically.

 

As Mrs. Boothby hangs up Edith’s coat and hat as well as her own on a hook behind the door and then bustles about stoking up the embers of the fire left in the stove, Edith says, “Mrs. Conway seems like a nice person to have as your neighbour, Mrs. Boothby.”

 

“She’s a good un, that one. She takes care of all the little kiddies round ‘n ‘bout while their parents is at work.” Mrs. Boothby throws some coal into the stove and shoves it with a poker. “She’s got an ‘eart of gold she does. I owe ‘er a lot. She does ‘er best by them kiddies. Gives ‘em a meal made outta what she can, which for some might be the only meal they get. And she gives ‘em a good bath too when she can. That’s why I give ‘er the left over soap ends from the ‘ouses I go to.”

 

“Oh I’m sorry Mrs. Boothby. I always take Miss Lettice’s soap ends to Mum to grate up and make soap flakes from for washing.”

 

“Ahh, don’t worry dearie. I gets plenty from some of the other ‘ouses I go to. Some of ‘em even throws out bars of soap what’s been barely used cos they get cracked and they don’t like the look of ‘em no more. Some of them ladies up the West End don’t know just ‘ow lucky they is to ‘ave as many bars of soap as they like. Nah, you keep takin’ Miss Lettice’s ends to your mum. So long as they’s bein’ used, I’m ‘appy. Waste not, want not, I always say.”

 

With nothing to do whilst the older woman goes about filling the large kettle with water from the sink in the corner of the room, Edith has more time to look at her surroundings. The floor is made of wooden boards whilst the walls are covered in a rather dark green wallpaper featuring old fashioned Art Nouveau patterns. The house must one have had owners or tenants with grander pretentions than Mrs. Boothby for the stove is jutting out of a much larger fireplace surround, which although chipped and badly discoloured from years of coal dust, cooking and cigarette smoke, is marble. However, it is the profusion of ornaments around the small room that catches the young girl’s eye. Along the mantle of the original fireplace stand a piece of Staffordshire, a prettily painted cow creamer, a jug in the shape of a duck coming out of an egg and a teapot in the shape of Queen Victoria. Turning around behind her to where Mrs. Boothby gathers a pretty blue and white china teapot, some cups, saucers and a sugar bowl, she sees a large dresser that is cluttered with more decorative plates, teapots, jugs, tins and a cheese dish in the shape of a cottage.

 

“Not what you was expectin’ I’ll warrant.” Mrs, Boothby remarks with a knowing chuckle that causes her to emit yet another of her throaty coughs.

 

“Oh no Mrs. Boothby!” Edith replies, blushing with shame at being caught out staring about her so shamelessly. “I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I mean… I had no expectations.”

 

“Well, it’s nuffink special, but this is my ‘aven of calm and cleanliness away from the dirty world out there.” She points through the window where, when Edith turns her head, she can see several scrawny children playing marbles on the concrete of the courtyard. “And it’s ‘ome to me.”

 

“Oh yes, it’s lovely and clean and cheerful, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith assures her hostess. “No, I was just admiring all your pretty crockery. It reminds me of my Mum’s kitchen, actually. She is always collecting pretty china and pottery.”

 

“Well, who was it what told you to go dahn to the Caledonian Markets******* to buy a gift for your mum?” the old woman says with a cheeky wink. “Me that who!” She pokes her chest proudly, before coughing heavily again.

 

“So did you get all these from the Caledonian Markets then, Mrs. Boothby?” Edith asks, looking around again.

 

“Well, most, but not all. I got meself an art gallery from the Caledonian Markets, for when I washes the dishes.” She points to two cheap prints of classic paintings in equally cheap wooden frames hanging on the walls above the little sink. “Better than starin’ at a blank wall, even if it’s covered in wallpaper. Course, some a them ladies up the West End is awfully wasteful wiv much more than soap, and just like them soap ends, I get my share. Somethin’ a bit old fashioned or got a tiny chip in it and they’s throwin’ it out like it was a piece of rubbish, so I offer ta take it. Take that nice cow up there,” She points to the cow creamer on the mantle. “The lid got lost somewhere, so the lady from Belgravia what owned it told ‘er maid to throw it out, so I said I’d take it instead. That,” She points to the Staffordshire statue. “Was one of a pair, what the uvver ‘alf got broken, so it was being chucked, so I took it. I don’t care if it don’t ‘ave the uvver ‘alf. I like it as it is. It’s pretty. The Queen Victoria teapot was getting’ chucked out just ‘cos the old Queen died, and King Bertie was takin’ ‘er place. Well, I wasn’t ‘avin’ none of that. Poor old Queen! I said I’d ‘ave it if no-one else wanted it. And this teapot,” She withdraws the pretty blue and white china teapot from atop the stove. “This was just bein’ thrown out ‘cos it’s old and they’s no bits of the set left but this. But there ain’t nuffink wrong wiv it, and it must be at least a ‘undred years old!”

 

Mrs. Boothby pulls out a gilt edged blue and white cake plate which she puts on the table along with the tea cups, sugar bowl and milk jug. She then goes to the dresser and pulls down a pretty tin decorated with Art Nouveau ladies from which she takes several pieces of shortbread, which she places on the cake plate.

 

“That’s very lovely, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith points to a teapot in the shape of a rabbit sitting in a watering can. “It looks rather like Peter Rabbit.”

 

“Ahh… my Ken loves that too.” Edith’s ears prick at the mention of someone named Ken, but she doesn’t have time to ask who he is before Mrs. Boothby continues, “That bunny rabbit teapot is one of the few pieces I got what ‘as a sad story what goes wiv it. Poor lady what I cleaned for up in St. James’, it were ‘er baby’s, from the nursery, you know?” Edith nods in understanding. “Well, ‘e died. ‘E was a weak little mite ‘e were, ever since ‘e was born, and my poor lady was so upset when ‘e died that she got rid of everyfink in the nursery. She didn’t want nuffink to remind her of that little baby. So, I brought it ‘ome wiv me.” She sighs. “Well, the kettle’s boiled now, so ‘ow about a cup of Rosie-Lee, dearie?”

 

A short while later, Edith and Mrs. Boothby are seated around Mrs. Boothby’s kitchen table with the elegant Regency teapot, some blue and white china cups and the plate of shortbreads before them.

 

“Oh I tell you Edith dearie, I’m dying for a fag!” Mrs Boothby says. She starts fossicking through her capacious beaded bag before withdrawing her cigarette papers, Swan Vestas and tin of Player’s Navy Cut. Rolling herself a cigarette she lights it with a satisfied sigh and one more of her fruity coughs, dropping the match into a black ashtray that sits on the table full of cigarette butts. Mrs. Boothby settles back happily in her ladderback chair with her cigarette in one hand and reaches out, taking up a shortbread biscuit with the other. Blowing out a plume of blue smoke that tumbles through the air around them, the old woman continues. “Nah, about this sewin’ machine. My Ken’ll be ‘ome soon, I ‘ope. ‘E’s a bit late today.”

 

“Mrs. Boothby, who is Ken?” Edith asks with a questioning look on her face.

 

Just as Mrs. Boothby is about to answer her, she gasps as she hears a rather loud and jolly whistle.

 

“Well, speak of the devil, ‘ere ‘e comes nah!”

 

The front door of the tenement flies open and the space is instantly filled by the bulk of a big man in a flat cap with a large parcel wrapped in newspaper tied with twine under his right arm.

 

*A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.

 

**The Singer Corporation is an American manufacturer of consumer sewing machines, first established as I. M. Singer & Co. in 1851 by Isaac M. Singer with New York lawyer Edward C. Clark. Best known for its sewing machines, it was renamed Singer Manufacturing Company in 1865, then the Singer Company in 1963. In 1867, the Singer Company decided that the demand for their sewing machines in the United Kingdom was sufficiently high to open a local factory in Glasgow on John Street. The Vice President of Singer, George Ross McKenzie selected Glasgow because of its iron making industries, cheap labour, and shipping capabilities. Demand for sewing machines outstripped production at the new plant and by 1873, a new larger factory was completed on James Street, Bridgeton. By that point, Singer employed over two thousand people in Scotland, but they still could not produce enough machines. In 1882 the company purchased forty-six acres of farmland in Clydebank and built an even bigger factory. With nearly a million square feet of space and almost seven thousand employees, it was possible to produce on average 13,000 machines a week, making it the largest sewing machine factory in the world. The Clydebank factory was so productive that in 1905, the U.S. Singer Company set up and registered the Singer Manufacturing Company Ltd. in the United Kingdom.

 

***Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.

 

****A rookery is a dense collection of housing, especially in a slum area. The rookeries created in Victorian times in London’s East End were notorious for their cheapness, filth and for being overcrowded.

 

*****The word Yid is a Jewish ethnonym of Yiddish origin. It is used as an autonym within the Ashkenazi Jewish community, and also used as slang. When pronounced in such a way that it rhymes with did by non-Jews, it is commonly intended as a pejorative term. It is used as a derogatory epithet, and as an alternative to, the English word 'Jew'. It is uncertain when the word began to be used in a pejorative sense by non-Jews, but some believe it started in the late Nineteenth or early Twentieth Century when there was a large population of Jews and Yiddish speakers concentrated in East London, gaining popularity in the 1930s when Oswald Mosley developed a strong following in the East End of London.

 

******Rosie-Lee is Cockney slang for tea, and it is one of the most well-known of all Cockney rhyming slang.

 

*******The original Caledonian Market, renown for antiques, buried treasure and junk, was situated in in a wide cobblestoned area just off the Caledonian Road in Islington in 1921 when this story is set. Opened in 1855 by Prince Albert, and originally called the Metropolitan Meat Markets, it was supplementary to the Smithfield Meat Market. Arranged in a rectangle, the market was dominated by a forty six metre central clock tower. By the early Twentieth Century, with the diminishing trade in live animals, a bric-a-brac market developed and flourished there until after the Second World War when it moved to Bermondsey, south of the Thames, where it flourishes today. The Islington site was developed in 1967 into the Market Estate and an open green space called Caledonian Park. All that remains of the original Caledonian Markets is the wonderful Victorian clock tower.

 

I would just like to point out that I wrote this story some weeks ago, long before The Queen became ill and well before her passing. However it seems apt that this story of all, which I planned weeks ago to upload today as part of the Chetwyn Mews narrative, mentions the passing of The Queen (albeit Queen Victoria). I wish to dedicate this image and chapter to our own Queen of past and glorious times Queen Elizabeth II (1926 – 2022). Long did she reign over us, happy and glorious. God bless The Queen.

 

This cluttered, yet cheerful domestic scene is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.

 

Mrs. Boothby’s beloved collection of ornaments come from various different sources. The Staffordshire cow (one of a pair) and the cow creamer that stand on the mantlepiece have been hand made and painted by Welsh miniature ceramist Rachel Williams who has her own studio, V&R Miniatures, in Powys. If you look closely, you will see that the Staffordshire cow actually has a smile on its face! Although you can’t notice it in the photo, the cow creamer has its own removable lid which is minute in size! The duck coming from the egg jug on the mantle, the rooster jug, the cottage ware butter dish, Peter Rabbit in the watering can tea pot and the cottage ware teapot to its right on the dresser were all made by French ceramicist and miniature artisan Valerie Casson. All the pieces are authentic replicas of real pieces made by different china companies. For example, the cottage ware teapot has been decorated authentically and matches in perfect detail its life-size Price Washington ‘Ye Olde Cottage Teapot’ counterparts. The top part of the thatched roof and central chimney form the lid, just like the real thing. Valerie Casson is renown for her meticulously crafted and painted miniature ceramics. The Queen Victoria teapot on the mantlepiece and the teapot on the dresser to the left of the Peter Rabbit teapot come from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom. All the other plates on the dresser came from various online miniature stockists through E-Bay, as do the teapot, plate and cups on Mrs. Boothby’s kitchen table.

 

Mrs. Boothby’s picture gallery in the corner of the room come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom.

 

Mrs. Boothby’s beaded handbag on the table is also a 1:12 artisan miniature. Hand crocheted, it is interwoven with antique blue glass beads that are two millimetres in diameter. The beads of the handle are three millimetres in length. It came from Karen Ladybug Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

 

Spilling from her bag are her Player’s Navy Cut cigarette tin and Swan Vesta matches, which are 1:12 miniatures hand made by Jonesy’s Miniatures in England. The black ashtray is also an artisan piece, the bae of which is filled with “ash”. The tray as well as having grey ash in it, also has a 1:12 cigarette which rests on its lip (it is affixed there). Made by Nottingham based tobacconist manufacturer John Player and Sons, Player’s Medium Navy Cut was the most popular by far of the three Navy Cut brands (there was also Mild and Gold Leaf, mild being today’s rich flavour). Two thirds of all the cigarettes sold in Britain were Player’s and two thirds of these were branded as Player’s Medium Navy Cut. In January 1937, Player’s sold nearly 3.5 million cigarettes (which included 1.34 million in London). Production continued to grow until at its peak in the late 1950s, Player’s was employing 11,000 workers (compared to 5,000 in 1926) and producing 15 brands of pipe tobacco and 11 brands of cigarettes. Nowadays the brands “Player” and “John Player Special” are owned and commercialised by Imperial Brands (formerly the Imperial Tobacco Company). Swan Vestas is a brand name for a popular brand of ‘strike-anywhere’ matches. Shorter than normal pocket matches they are particularly popular with smokers and have long used the tagline ‘the smoker’s match’ although this has been replaced by the prefix ‘the original’ on the current packaging. Swan Vestas matches are manufactured under the House of Swan brand, which is also responsible for making other smoking accessories such as cigarette papers, flints and filter tips. The matches are manufactured by Swedish Match in Sweden using local, sustainably grown aspen. The Swan brand began in 1883 when the Collard & Kendall match company in Bootle on Merseyside near Liverpool introduced ‘Swan wax matches’. These were superseded by later versions including ‘Swan White Pine Vestas’ from the Diamond Match Company. These were formed of a wooden splint soaked in wax. They were finally christened ‘Swan Vestas’ in 1906 when Diamond merged with Bryant and May and the company enthusiastically promoted the Swan brand. By the 1930s ‘Swan Vestas’ had become ‘Britain’s best-selling match’.

 

The meagre foodstuffs on Mrs. Boothby’s shelf represent items not unusually found in poorer households across Britain. Before the Second World War, the British populace consumed far more sugar than we do today, partially for the poor because it was cheap and helped give people energy when their diets were lacking good nutritious foods. Therefore finding a tin of treacle, some preserved fruit or jam, and no fresh fruits or vegetables was not an unusual sight in a lower class home. All the tined foodstuffs, with the exception of the tin of S.P.C. peaches, are 1:12 size artisan miniatures made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, with great attention to detail paid to their labels and the shapes of their jars and cans. The S.P.C. tin of peaches comes from Shepherd’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom. S.P.C. is an Australian brand that still exists to this day. In 1917 a group of fruit growers in Victoria’s Goulburn Valley decided to form a cooperative which they named the Shepperton Fruit Preserving Company. The company began operations in February 1918, canning pears, peaches and nectarines under the brand name of S.P.C. On the 31st of January 1918 the manager of the Shepparton Fruit Preserving Company announced that canning would begin on the following Tuesday and that the operation would require one hundred and fifty girls or women and thirty men. In the wake of the Great War, it was hoped that “the launch of this new industry must revive drooping energies” and improve the economic circumstances of the region. The company began to pay annual bonuses to grower-shareholders by 1929, and the plant was updated and expanded. The success of S.P.C. was inextricably linked with the progress of the town and the wider Goulburn Valley region. In 1936 the company packed twelve million cans and was the largest fruit cannery in the British empire. Through the Second World War the company boomed. The product range was expanded to include additional fruits, jam, baked beans and tinned spaghetti and production reached more than forty-three million cans a year in the 1970s. From financial difficulties caused by the 1980s recession, SPC returned once more to profitability, merging with Ardmona and buying rival company Henry Jones IXL. S.P.C. was acquired by Coca Cola Amatil in 2005 and in 2019 sold to a private equity group known as Shepparton Partners Collective.

 

The rather worn and beaten looking enamelled bread bin and colander in the typical domestic Art Deco design and kitchen colours of the 1920s, cream and green, which have been aged on purpose, are artisan pieces I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom.

 

The various bowls, cannisters and dishes, the kettle and the Brown Betty teapot I have acquired from various online miniatures stockists throughout the United Kingdom, America and Australia. A Brown Betty is a type of teapot, round and with a manganese brown glaze known as Rockingham glaze. In the Victorian era, when tea was at its peak of popularity, tea brewed in the Brown Betty was considered excellent. This was attributed to the design of the pot which allowed the tea leaves more freedom to swirl around as the water was poured into the pot, releasing more flavour with less bitterness.

 

The black Victorian era stove and the ladderback chair on the left of the table and the small table directly behind it are all miniature pieces I have had since I was a child. The ladderback chair on the right came from a deceased estate of a miniatures collector in Sydney. The Welsh dresser came from Babette’s Miniatures, who have been making miniature dolls’ furnishings since the late Eighteenth Century. The dresser has plate grooves in it to hold plates in place, just like a real dresser would.

 

The grey marbleised fireplace behind the stove and the trough sink in the corner of the kitchen come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

 

The green wallpaper is an authentic replica of real Art Nouveau wallpaper from the first decade of the Twentieth Century which I have printed onto paper. The floorboards are a print of a photo taken of some floorboards that I scaled to 1:12 size to try and maintain a realistic look.

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however, we have followed Lettice southwest from her home, across St James’ Park to Hans Crescent in Belgravia, where the smart Edwardian four storey red brick and mock Tudor London home of the de Virre family stands. Two of Lettice’s Embassy Club coterie of bright young things are getting married: Dickie Channon, eldest surviving son of the Marquess of Taunton, and Margot de Virre, only daughter of Lord Charles and Lady Lucie de Virre. Lettice is visiting the home of the bride, which is a hive of activity in the lead up to the forthcoming nuptials.

 

Lettice has just been spending time with Margot and her mother in the house’s gold drawing room and is just leaving to return home to Cavendish Mews to meet a potential client. As she walks brusquely down the hall, past Lord de Virre’s study, her louis heels click loudly against the parquetry floor.

 

“Margot! Margot, is that you?” Lord de Virre’s voice calls out through the partially open door.

 

Lettice stops, turns and pops her head into the study. Decorated with dark mahogany furniture, gold embossed wallpaper, thick Persian rugs and trophies and souvenirs of Lord de Virre’s travels, it is a masculine room which exudes comfort and cosiness. The room is dominated by a great mahogany rolltop desk, at which Lord de Virre sits hunched over. The scratch of a pen against paper can be heard, and a thin silver trail of exotic smelling smoke arises from the silver ashtray sitting to his right.

 

“No Lord de Virre,” Lettice answers his call. “It’s only me.”

 

“Ah!” Lord de Virre turns around in his seat, beaming at his young guest. “Lettice! We don’t see you nearly enough these days!”

 

“London calls,” she replies gaily.

 

“Yes, with all its delicious temptations for the young.” He picks up a small glass of port and sips it, and it is then that Lettice notices the finely faceted decanter of deep golden liquid on the desk’s surface. “Have you been visiting the bride-to-be?”

 

“I have Lord de Virre.”

 

“Good girl! She needs some distraction from her mother and her endless lists of wedding to-dos.”

 

“Is that why you’re hiding in here, Lord de Virre?”

 

The older man colours at Lettice’s suggestion. “Oh, I’m no good with table settings, wedding dresses and that sort of thing,” he blusters, fiddling with the writing paper on the desk in front of him. “Anyway, I’ve just been scribbling down a few words whilst I think of them for my father-of-the-bride speech.”

 

Lettice blushes too, not wishing to cause embarrassment to a man whom she likes very much. Charles de Virre, unlike her own father, has been anything but distant, and always showed interest in anything she spoke about when she came to visit or stay with de Virres, even as a silly little girl or teenager before the war. As a businessman, rather than a gentleman like her father, Lord de Virre always encouraged Lettice’s desire to follow her dream of becoming an interior designer, and his support and sound business advice has been welcome since the inception of her enterprise.

 

“You know,” Lettice remarks to try and dispel the unease she has created as she slips through the door and into the male preserve. “I always found this room fascinating: intimidating but fascinating nonetheless.”

 

“Yes, well,” Lord de Virre replies, picking up his cigarette and drawing on it before blowing out a plume of greyish white smoke. “The secrets of industry are always interesting to a young entrepreneur ahead of her time.”

 

“That’s very kind of you to say, Lord de Virre.” Lettice colours at the compliment. She walks over to Lord de Virre. “Margot and I used to sneak in here sometimes whilst you were away during the war.”

 

“Did you now?” He cocks an eyebrow at his slender young companion as she sidles up to his big desk. “I didn’t know that. Cheeky girls. I hope that Lucie never caught you in here.”

 

“No.” Lettice smiles. “She never did. We were careful. Margot always said that she had a sense of you in this room. She said if she could catch a whiff of your eau de cologne, or your cigarettes,” She glances at the half smoked cigarette in his hand. “Then you were alright. You might be in danger, but you would be alright.” She titters in an embarrassed fashion. “It sounds so silly hearing myself say that, but I guess it was Margot’s and my game, or mantra perhaps as the war went on and we grew up.”

 

“Well,” Lord de Virre replies softly, touched by Lettice’s confession. “It must have worked, because here I am.”

 

“Yes,” Lettice chuckles. “Here you are.”

 

“Well, it was either yours and Margot’s mantra, or Lucie’s photo.” He indicates to a photo of his wife in a brass frame on the desktop next to one of Margot as a baby.

 

“It’s a very pretty photo of her,” Lettice observes.

 

“Yes, Lucie had it taken in 1916. I carried it inside my coat in the pocket next to my heart for the remaining two years of the war. She swears that’s what brought me home.”

 

“Well, it was one thing or the other. The main thing is, Lord de Virre, you did make it home.”

 

“But many others didn’t.” the older man speaks the unspoken ending to her sentence. “Yes. I dare say that Lucie wouldn’t have been so happy with her prospective son-in-law had Margot come home with the news in 1914 when young Harry was still heir apparent.”

 

“Would you have minded, Lord de Virre?”

 

“Me? Good heavens no!” He takes another sip of his port, and indicates to the bottle, the invitation to imbibe declined politely by Lettice with a gentle shake of her head. “Margot could have loved him before he was the heir apparent, and he was destined to a life of impecuniosity and obscurity.”

 

“Margot said that she would have married him even if he was titleless, penniless and you disapproved.”

 

“Did she? Well! Bully for her! Good to know she has some of my fighting spirit that Lucie hasn’t managed to tame.” He smiles to himself as he runs his fingers over the frame of his daughter as a baby. “No, I have enough money from my business arrangements to have kept Margot in stockings and fans for a good many years. I think I can comfortably extend that largess to support them both. Just between you and I, Lettice, I suspect that is why the Marquess is so keen on the match of his heir with the daughter of a man in trade with a bought title.”

 

“Surely, surely you aren’t suggesting the Marquess?” Lettice’s question trails off.

 

“Unlike your father, perhaps under the wise influence of his eldest son, the Marquess hasn’t modernised, and unlike me, he didn’t have a good war. No, I’m afraid to say that he may be property rich, but,” He huffs awkwardly. “It appears that that’s where it ends.”

 

“But he’s giving Margot and Dickie a house in Cornwall!”

 

“And who do you think is bankrolling the renovations to have it electrified, connected to the Penzance telephone exchange, plumbed for goodness sake?”

 

“Oh, I had no idea!” Lettice rests her hand on the edge of the desk to steady herself at the news.

 

“Well,” Lord de Virre points the glowing end of his cigarette at Lettice. “Just don’t you say anything.” He taps the side of his nose knowingly. “At least Lucie is happy. She can’t do enough to please young Dickie. She finally gets her wish.”

 

“Margot’s happiness.” Lettice smiles

 

“Well yes, that too,” Lord de Virre remarks. “But first and foremost a real title in the family.” He chuckles cheekily to himself.

 

“Oh Lord de Virre!” Lettice scoffs. “You are awful!”

 

“Now, thinking of business, Lettice, I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to discuss a little bit of business with you.”

 

“With me, Lord de Virre?” she asks in surprise.

 

“Yes Lettice.” he replies matter-of-factly. “You are a successful young businesswoman, are you not?”

 

“Well, I don’t know if I’d go quite that far,” Lettice blushes again at the compliment. “Yet.”

 

“Nonsense! You’ve been listening to your parents too much, my girl! Now, I believe that once the honeymoon is over, the newlyweds are planning to invite you down to their new seaside residence in Penzance to show it off. When my darling daughter asks you to redecorate a few of the principal rooms,”

 

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Lord de Virre!”

 

“Not at all, Lettice. I know she will for a fact.”

 

“And how do you know?”

 

“Because I am the one who planted the seed in her mind.” He laughs good naturedly. “The house is really quite beautiful, but it’s not been lived in and neglected for far too long. The old retainers who caretake the place do as good a job as they are able, but it needs some modernisation and updating beyond electricity, a telephone and plumbed bathrooms. So, when she suggests that you do some redecoration for her, stand your ground and tell her that you won’t do it as a friendly favour. You’re a businesswoman Lettice, so she must pay.”

 

“But you just said that Dickie hasn’t a bean! How are they to pay?”

 

“Calm yourself, child,” Lord de Virre waves his hands in front of Lettice, trying to dampen her concerns. “Whatever she wants, whatever it costs, she can have. You just send your bills to me. Alright?”

 

“Really Lord de Virre?”

 

“Yes, Lettice. And just think what a feather that will be for your business hat. First the Duchess of Whitby, and then the daughter-in-law of the Marquess of Taunton!”

 

“Well, that would be something.” Lettice muses at the thought, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth upwards.

 

“Then we have an arrangement, Miss Chetwynd?” Lord de Virre extends his hand towards Lettice.

 

“I think we do, Lord de Virre.” Lettice takes his hand, and they shake in businesslike style to seal the arrangement.

 

Dark and masculine, this tiny corner of Lord de Virre’s study is different from what you might think, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures, some of which come from my own childhood.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:

 

The mahogany rolltop desk is a miniature that I have had since I was about eleven years old. The top does roll up and down, and the pigeon holes and writing area of the desk move forward, just like a real rolltop desk. I bought the desk along with a lot of other 1:12 miniatures from a High Street speciality dollhouse shop in England. The receipt with a few handwritten amendments is actually the scroll with the pinked edge in the far right pigeon hole of the desk! Much of the printing has faded, but as you an see the handwritten amendments can still be seen in black ink.

 

Lord de Virre’s family photos are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames are from Melody Jane’s Dollhouse Suppliers in the United Kingdom and are made of metal with glass in each.

 

On the desk are some 1:12 artisan miniature ink bottles, stamps, a blotter, a roller and letter rack, all made by the Little Green Workshop in England who specialise in high end, high quality miniatures. The ink bottles are made from tiny faceted crystal beads and have sterling silver bottoms and lids. The ink blotter is sterling silver too and has a blotter made of real black felt, cut meticulously to size to fit snugly inside the frame. The stamp is made of brass. The silver letter rack which contains some 1:12 size correspondence, also made by the Little Green Workshop. The silver pen with a pearl end and the letter opener with a cloisonné handle are also made by the Little Green Workshop. All the piles of correspondence, bills and documents atop the desk were made meticulously by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.

 

Also made by the Little Green Workshop is the silver ashtray. Made from a metal piece used for jewellery making, it features faceted crystals inserted into it. It has ‘ash’ moulded inside it so it looks remarkably real. A single cigarette with a red burning tip rests against its lip. This is the smallest of my 1:12 miniature collection. The cigarette is a tiny five millimetres long and just one millimetre wide! Made of paper, I have to be so careful that it doesn’t get lost when I use it! Also on the desk is a box of Swan Vesta matches, which is a 1:12 miniature hand made by Jonesy’s Miniatures in England. Swan Vestas matches are manufactured under the House of Swan brand, which is also responsible for making other smoking accessories such as cigarette papers, flints and filter tips. The matches are manufactured by Swedish Match in Sweden using local, sustainably grown aspen. The Swan brand began in 1883 when the Collard and Kendall match company in Bootle on Merseyside near Liverpool introduced 'Swan wax matches'. These were superseded by later versions including 'Swan White Pine Vestas' from the Diamond Match Company. These were formed of a wooden splint soaked in wax. They were finally christened 'Swan Vestas' in 1906 when Diamond merged with Bryant and May and the company enthusiastically promoted the Swan brand. By the 1930s 'Swan Vestas' had become 'Britain's best-selling match'.

 

The bottle of port in its faceted glass bottle and the tiny port glass are both actually made of plastic and come from a miniature suppliers in Shanghai.

 

Atop the desk stands a photo in a frame. Like the other two photographs in the pictre, it too is a real photo, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames is also from Melody Jane’s Dollhouse Suppliers in the United Kingdom and is made of are metal with glass. The Edwardian mahogany clock next to the frame is a 1:12 artisan miniature made by Hall’s Miniature Clocks, supplied through Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniatures in England. Next to it you can just see the base of an urn. The urn is only two and a half centimetres high and is an antique miniature and has been hand turned and polished. It has an African ebony body and a bubinga wood top and base. Next to the urn, on the right-hand side of the rolltop desk’s top stand three ledgers from Shepherd’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

 

In the background you can catch tantalising glimpses of other things in Lord de Virre’s study including a Regency painting of a horse in a gold frame from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering, and a hand painted ginger jar from Thailand which stands on a Bespaq plant stand. Bespaq is a high-end miniature furniture maker with high attention to detail and quality.

 

The Persian rug you can just glimpse in te bottom right-hand corer of the photo was hand woven by Pike, Pike and Company in the United Kingdom.

 

The gold flocked Edwardian wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

Here are several add-on lenses and their home-made adapters for mounting on my Nikon 105mm f/2.5 AI-S lens. I keep an inventory of damaged filters for scavenging rings to make a variety of adapters for working with a number of primary lenses.

 

On the left is an RMS thread to 52mm adapter, shown fitted with a Gaertner 80 mm microscope objective. Below is an unmounted 60mm. Their knurled mounting "position" rings have been color coded with a marker for quick reference... red = very short working distance, blue = longer working distance. The mounted objective / aluminum disc (fitted with a 52mm ring), is ready to be mounted on the front of the 105mm with the Gaertner objective facing the subject.

 

At top center is an adapter made from empty 58mm filter rings, and a Zeiss Microscope "dove-tail" accessory adapter (silver ribbed screw). The adapter is shown fitted with a Voss 75mm enlarging lens, below is an unmounted Laminex 90mm. An enlarging lens is screwed into a lens mounting ring locked in place by the silver knob, its aperture always at its widest setting... to minimize vignetting. This mounting ring remains locked in place allowing for quick changing of a number of enlarging lenses. The short stack of empty rings on the right is screwed onto the lens adapter just above the red ring, serving as a spacer to prevent the enlarging lens from contacting the Nikon 105mm objective, the adapter being mounted with the enlarging lens facing the camera.

 

Both adapters have threaded rings that face the subject, for mounting a home-made frozen dinner bowl flash diffuser fitted with an empty Raynox UAC 2000 snap on lens mount adapter.

 

These lenses provide very good magnification when used on the 105mm, which is always used focused at infinity to provide the greatest working distance.

 

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In my teens I remember picking up a certain newspaper.. which featured a free Sunday supplement, inside it had a article about a trans woman, but the way it was written stuck me as it claimed that all trans girls wore Navy blue high heels and had absolutely no idea in style and how to look feminine at the time I thought that was utter rubbish but it seems true of myself now.. off on my holidays next week but I’m looking for suggestions particularly new hosiery ones but what else would you like to see me wear.. hosiery ones particularly welcome though 💋 xx ☀️

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Two of Lettice’s Embassy Club coterie of bright young things are getting married: Dickie Channon, eldest surviving son of the Marquess of Taunton, and Margot de Virre, only daughter of Lord Charles and Lady Lucie de Virre. Lettice is hosting an exclusive buffet supper party in their honour this evening, which is turning out to be one of the events of the 1921 London Season. Over the last few days, Lettice’s flat has been in upheaval as Edith. Lettice’s maid, and Lettice’s charwoman* Mrs. Boothby have been cleaning the flat thoroughly in preparation for the occasion. Earlier today with the help of a few hired men they moved some of the furnishings in Lettice’s drawing room into the spare bedroom to make space for the hired dance band and for the guests to dance and mingle. Edith’s preserve of the kitchen has been overrun by delivery men, florists and caterers. Yet it has finally all fallen into place perfectly just as a red and white striped marquee is erected by Gunter and Company** over the entrance and the pavement outside.

 

Now we find ourselves in Lettice’s dining room, which has become the focal point for half the party guests as her dining table is given over to a magnificent buffet created by Harrods catering, whilst Dickie stands at one corner, thoroughly enjoying playing the part of barman as he makes cocktails for all his friends.

 

Lettice sighs with satisfaction as she looks around the drawing room and dining room of her flat. Both rooms have a golden glow about them created by a mixture of electric light and candlelight and the fug of cigarette smoke. The rooms are populated with London society’s glittering young people, nicknamed “bright young things” by the newspapers. Men in white tie and tails with a smattering of daring souls wearing dinner jackets chatter animatedly and dance with ladies in beautifully coloured evening gowns with loose bodices, sashes and irregular and handkerchief hems. Jewels wink at throats, on fingers, dangling from ears and in carefully coiffed and finger waved hair, illuminated by the brilliant lighting. Bugle beads glitter as gowns gently wash about the figures of their wearers as they move. Everywhere gay chatter about the Season and the upcoming wedding of Margot and Dickie fills the air, the joyous sound mixing with the lively jazz quartet who play syncopated tunes lustily in a corner of Lettice’s drawing room.

 

“Dubonnet and gin?” Dickie asks Lettice as she stands by the buffet and picks up a biscuit lightly smeared with salmon mousse.

 

“Oh you are a brick, Dickie!” Lettice enthuses, popping the dainty morsel into her mouth. Accepting the reddish gold cocktail from him she adds, “But really, this is your party. You should be out there, socialising with Margot, not standing here making cocktails for everyone.”

 

“Why should I bother going out there to socialise,” he waves his hand across the crowded room to the edge of the makeshift dancefloor where his fiancée stands in a beautiful ankle length silver georgette gown studded in silver sequins, surrounded by a small clutch of equally elegant young guests. “When they all have to come to me for drinks.”

 

“Ahhh,” Lettice titters as she sips her cocktail. “So there is method in your madness, Dickie.”

 

“Isn’t there always, Lettice?” he laughs. “Now, you are technically hostess of this bash. Go out there and dazzle everyone.” Then he stops and adds, “Well, not quite everyone.” And he blows a kiss to his fiancée whose eye he has caught from across the crowded room.

 

“Alright Dickie,” Lettice laughs and she saunters off into the crowd, pausing to smile and say hullo and accept the compliments of her many guests.

 

Suddenly she spots a beautiful woman in a pale pink beaded gown with dark finger waved hair framing her peaches and cream complexion standing docilely by the dancefloor watching the stream of passing couples dancing past in each other’s arms. She seems distant and remote, even a little sad, and far removed from the frenetic energy and jolly bonhomie about her. Excusing herself from the couple who are addressing her, Lettice slips over to her.

 

“Hullo Elizabeth***!” Lettice embraces her warmly. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come along tonight considering everything that’s happened.”

 

“I wasn’t sure myself, Lettice.” Elizabeth replies, a warm smile revealing a slightly crooked set of teeth. “But I couldn’t let Dickie and Margot down.” Then she adds quickly as an afterthought, “Or you, darling Lettice.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you’ve come. How are you feeling?”

 

“A little battered and bruised emotionally.” Elizabeth admits with a lilt of sadness. “But one mustn’t complain.”

 

“I still don’t understand why you said no to his marriage proposal. I thought you loved Bertie****.”

 

“I did.” Elizabeth remarks before correcting herself. “I do! But I’m afraid that if I said yes to him, I’d never, never again be able to be free to think, speak and act as I feel I really ought to. Besides,” she adds conspiratorially, glancing about her before continuing. “His mother terrifies me.”

 

“She terrifies all of us,” Lettice laughs lighty as she waves her hand gaily about the room. “Now, what you need to pick you up and forget your heartache is one of these.” She points to the glass in her hand.

 

“What is it?” Elizabeth asks, eyeing Lettice’s glass and sniffing its contents with suspicion.

 

“A Dubonnet and gin. Dickie will make you one. Go and ask him.” Lettice grasps Elizabeth by the shoulder and sends her toddling across to Dickie as he stands behind a line of bottles and a beautiful arrangement of roses.

 

“Lettice!” Margot suddenly calls from across the room, beckoning her over enthusiastically. “Lettice, darling!”

 

Squeezing between small clusters of well-dressed guests drinking and eating or leaving the dance floor, Lettice makes her way over to her friend.

 

“Hullo Margot, darling! Are you having a fabulous time?”

 

“Fabulous isn’t enough of a word to describe it, darling!” she replies with eyes shimmering with excitement and joy. “Such a thrilling bash! I can’t thank you enough!”

 

“Yes Lettice,” a deep male voice adds from behind her. “You certainly do know how to throw a party!”

 

“Lord de Virre!” Lettice exclaims, spinning around. “Oh! I didn’t know you’d arrived. Now, who can I introduce you to?”

 

“No-one my dear. My beautiful daughter has been doing an ample job of introducing me to so many people that already this old man cannot remember who is whom.”

 

“Never old!” Lettice scolds, hitting his arm playfully as she curls her own through the crook in his. “Then if I can’t introduce to anyone, perhaps I can entreat you into eating something.”

 

“Now that I won’t refuse, Lettice.”

 

Lettice and Margot guide Lord de Virre across the crowded dining room to the buffet table weighed down with delicious savoury petit fours, vol-au-vents, caviar, dips, cheese and pâte and pasties. Glasses full, partially drained and empty are scattered amidst the silver trays and china plates.

 

“Champagne, Sir?” Dickie calls out.

 

“Good show Dickie!” laughs Lord de Virre over the noise of the party. “Playing barman tonight, are we?”

 

“It’s the best role to play at a party, Sir.” He passes Lord de Virre a flute of sparkling champagne poured from the bottle wedged into a silver ice bucket.

 

Behind him Lettice spies Elizabeth with a Dubonnet and gin in her glove clad hand. Lettice catches her eye and discreetly raises her glass, which Elizabeth returns with a gentle smile.

 

“Now Lettice, darling,” Margot enthuses as she selects a dainty petit four. “Daddy has just reminded me of an idea we had a few weeks ago, which I meant to ask you about, but between all Gerald’s dress fittings and other arrangements for the wedding,” She flaps her hand about, the diamonds in her engagement ring sparkling in the light. “Well, I completely forgot.”

 

Lettice tries not to smile as she feels the gentlest of squeezes from Lord de Virre’s arm and remembers the conversation that she and he had some weeks ago in his study. “What is it?” She glances between Margot and her father, pretending not to know what is coming.

 

“Well, Daddy suggested… I mean… I was wondering…”

 

“Yes, Margot darling?”

 

“Well, you know how the Marquess is giving us that house in Cornwall?”

 

“Yes! Chi an… an…?”

 

“Chi an Treth!” Dickie calls out helpfully.

 

“Yes!” Margot concurs. “Beach House! Well, it hasn’t been lived in for ever such a long time, and it’s a bit old fashioned. Daddy is kindly organising for it to be electrified, re-plumbed and have it connected to the Penzance telephone exchange for us.” Margot pauses. “And… well he and… we… that is to say that I thought…”

 

“Yes?” Lettice coaxes with lowered lids as she takes a gentle sip of her Dubonnet and gin.

 

“Well, we… Dickie and I that is… well we rather hoped that you might consider fixing up a couple of rooms for us. Would you? I would just so dearly love a room or two decorated by you! Dickie even thinks that his father can pull some strings and get you an article in Country Life if you do?”

 

“Oh Margot!” Lettice exclaims, releasing her grip on Lord de Virre and depositing her glass on the table she flings her arms about her friend’s neck. “I’d love to!”

 

Lettice suddenly feels a gentle poking of fingers into the small of her back. Letting go of Margot, she stands back and looks at her, remembering the lines Lord de Virre asked her to come up with and rehearse upon agreeing to Margot’s request.

 

“Of course, I can’t do it straight away, you understand. You know I’m currently mid-way through Miss Ward’s flat in Pimlico.”

 

“Oh that’s alright,” Margot beams. “The modernisation isn’t finished yet, so we won’t even be going down there to inspect the place until after our honeymoon.”

 

Lettice feels Lord de Virre’s prodding in her back again.

 

“And I won’t do it for free, Margot. I have already given you a wedding gift. I’m a businesswoman now.”

 

“Oh, well that’s just the thing,” Margot exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. “Daddy has kindly agreed to pay for it all.”

 

Lettice looks up at Lord de Virre. He looks back at her seriously, but she can see a smile tweaking the edges of his mouth, trying to create a cheeky smile. She tries to keep up the pretence that she didn’t already know that Margot was going to ask her to redecorate for her and Dickie as she says, “Really Lord de Virre? All of it? That’s very generous of you.”

 

“Not a bit of it, Lettice. This is a good, sound business transaction. You may send your quotes to me for consideration,” He ennunciates the last word carefully to stress its importance, more for Margot’s sake than Lettice’s. “Once you have seen the rooms as they are now.”

 

“Thank you Lord de Virre,” Lettice replies. “Well Margot, I suppose that settles it then!”

 

“Oh Dickie!” Margot exclaims, scuttling over to her fiancée. “She said yes!”

 

“Who did, darling?” Dickie asks as he adds crème de menthe to colour his Fallen Angel cocktail a pale green.

 

“What do you mean, who?” Margot hits his arm jokingly as she sways excitedly from side to side. “Lettice of course!” She looks back over to her friend standing alongside her father. “She’s agreed to decorate for us.”

 

“Oh, jolly good show!” Dickie smiles. “Thanks awfully Lettice, darling! Now you’re the brick!”

 

“Always Dickie!” Lettice laughs back.

 

“Listen Dickie!” Margot gasps. “The band is playing ‘Dancing Time’*****! Come away from the bar and dance with me.”

 

“You’d best not refuse her, my boy!” teases Lord de Virre. “It’s madness if you try. I never could!”

 

The happily engaged couple hurry across the room, hand in hand, slipping between clusters of guests before disappearing into the crowd on the dancefloor as the music from the band soars above the burble of the crowd and the clink of glasses.

 

“So, we finally have an official arrangement, Miss Chetwynd?” Lord de Virre says discreetly as he raises his glass towards Lettice.

 

“I think we do, Lord de Virre.” Lettice smiles and clinks her glass with his as they toast their arrangement formally. “Your offer is simply too good to refuse.”

 

*A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.

 

**Gunter and Company were London caterers and ball furnishers with shops in Berkley Square, Sloane Street, Lowndes Street and New Bond Street. They began as Gunter’s Tea Shop at 7 and 8 Berley Square 1757 where it remained until 1956 as the business grew and opened different premises. In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries Gunter's became a fashionable light eatery in Mayfair, notable for its ices and sorbets. Gunter's was considered to be the wedding cake makers du jour and in 1889, made the bride cake for the marriage of Queen Victoria’s granddaughter, Princess Louise of Wales. Even after the tea shop finally closed, the catering business carried on until the mid 1970s.

 

***Elizabeth Bowes Lyon as she was known in 1921 went on to become Queen of the United Kingdom and the Dominions from 1936 to 1952 as the wife of King George VI. Whilst still Duke of York, Prince Albert initially proposed to Elizabeth in 1921, but she turned him down, being "afraid never, never again to be free to think, speak and act as I feel I really ought to"

 

****Prince Albert, Duke of York, known by the diminutive “Bertie” to the family and close friends, was the second son of George V. Not only did Bertie propose to Elizabeth in 1921, but also in March 1922 after she was a bridesmaid at the wedding of Albert’s sister, Princess Mary to Viscount Lascelles. Elizabeth refused him a second time, yet undaunted Bertie pursued the girl who had stolen his heart. Finally, in January 1923 she agreed to marry him in spite of her misgivings about royal life.

 

*****’Dancing Time’ was a popular song in Britain in 1921 with words by George Grossmith Jr. and music by Jerome Kern.

 

This rather splendid buffet of delicious savoury treats might look real to you, but in fact the whole scene is made up on 1:12 scale miniatures from my miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

On Lettice’s black japanned dining table delicious canapés are ready to be consumed by party guests. The plate of sandwiches, the silver tray of biscuits and the bowls of dips, most of the savoury petite fours on the silver tray furthest from the camera and the silver tray of Cornish pasties were made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. The cheese selection on the tray closest to the camera were made by hand by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering, as are the empty champagne glasses all of which are made of hand blown glass. The bowl of caviar was made by Karen Lady Bug Miniatures in England.

 

The tray that the caviar is sitting on and the champagne bucket are made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The bottle of Deutz and Geldermann champagne. It is an artisan miniatures and made of glass and has real foil wrapped around its neck. It was made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. Several of the other bottles of mixers in the foreground are also made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The bottle of Gordon’s Dry Gin, the bottle of Crème de Menthe, Cinzano, Campari and Martini are also 1:12 artisan miniatures, made of real glass, and came from a specialist stockist in Sydney. Gordon's London Dry Gin was developed by Alexander Gordon, a Londoner of Scots descent. He opened a distillery in the Southwark area in 1769, later moving in 1786 to Clerkenwell. The Special London Dry Gin he developed proved successful, and its recipe remains unchanged to this day. The top markets for Gordon's are (in descending order) the United Kingdom, the United States and Greece. Gordon's has been the United Kingdom’s number one gin since the late Nineteenth century. It is the world's best-selling London dry gin. Crème de menthe (French for "mint cream") is a sweet, mint-flavored alcoholic beverage. Crème de menthe is an ingredient in several cocktails popular in the 1920s, such as the Grasshopper and the Stinger. It is also served as a digestif. Cinzano vermouths date back to 1757 and the Turin herbal shop of two brothers, Giovanni Giacomo and Carlo Stefano Cinzano, who created a new "vermouth rosso" (red vermouth) using "aromatic plants from the Italian Alps in a recipe which is still secret to this day. Campari is an Italian alcoholic liqueur, considered an apéritif. It is obtained from the infusion of herbs and fruit (including chinotto and cascarilla) in alcohol and water. It is a bitters, characterised by its dark red colour.

 

The vase of red roses on the dining table and the vase of yellow lilies on the Art Deco console are beautifully made by hand by the Doll House Emporium. Also on the console table stand some of Lettice’s precious artisan purchases from the Portland Gallery in Soho. The pair of candelabra at either end of the sideboard are sterling silver artisan miniatures from Karen Ladybug Miniatures in England. The silver drinks set, made by artisan Clare Bell at the Clare Bell Brass Works in Maine, in the United States. Each goblet is only one centimetre in height and the decanter at the far end is two- and three-quarter centimetres with the stopper inserted. Lettice’s Art Deco ‘Modern Woman’ figure is actually called ‘Christianne’ and was made and hand painted by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland. ‘Christianne’ is based on several Art Deco statues and is typical of bronze and marble statues created at that time for the luxury market in the buoyant 1920s.

 

Lettice’s dining room is furnished with Town Hall Miniatures furniture, which is renown for their quality. The only exceptions to the room is the Chippendale chinoiserie carver chair and the Art Deco cocktail cabinet (the edge of which just visible on the far right-hand side of the photo) which were made by J.B.M. Miniatures.

 

The paintings on the walls are 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States. The geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

It is the day after Lettice’s exclusive buffet supper party for two of her Embassy Club coterie of bright young things who are getting married: Dickie Channon, eldest surviving son of the Marquess of Taunton, and Margot de Virre, only daughter of Lord Charles and Lady Lucie de Virre. The soirée in their honour was a glittering success and will go down as one of the events of the 1921 London Season according to the Tattler’s society pages correspondent who busily scribbled notes about all the great and good of the land who were present and what they were wearing, whilst a photographer from the London magazine captured the guests in all their glittering finery.

 

The day has been spent setting the Mayfair flat back to rights and Lettice’s maid, Edith, with the help of Mrs. Boothby, Lettice’s charwoman* and one of Mrs. Boothby’s friends, Jackie, have swept and polished, scrubbed and cleaned, whilst Gunter and Company’s** men have restored the furnishings to where they were before the drawing room was turned into a ballroom and the dining room into a buffet.

 

It's after midnight in the up-to-date modern kitchen and silence envelops the flat. Outside only the occasional drone of a taxi dropping late night revellers home, or the hiss of two fighting cats somewhere on the moonlight rooftops outside breaks the evening quiet. Edith has washed all the glasses, crockery and silverware from dinner and after such a busy day of work she should be tired and sleeping soundly like Lettice is, but instead she is still full of excitement from the previous evening as she sits at the deal kitchen table and thinks about all the beautiful people to whom she served drinks.

 

Her mistress looked beautiful in a powder blue silk georgette gown designed by her childhood friend Gerald Bruton who has his own dress shop in Grosvenor Street. Margot wore a stunning low waisted gown of silver satin. However, it was another guest at the party, Lady Diana Cooper *** who really caught Edith’s eye. With a neat, short chignon of waves and curls woven around a bandeau of diamonds, she wore a stunning blue gown of layer upon diaphanous layer of handkerchief point Lanvin blue silk taffeta which Edith knows from her mistress’ cast-off fashion magazines to be a ‘robe de style’**** with a full skirt supported by a wire hoop underneath the fabric. Pinned to the waist was a large pink satin rose with a slightly smaller one sewn to the right shoulder.

 

“Oh,” Edith sighs as she picks up a jam fancy biscuit from the Delftware plate in front of her and takes a bite. “How I should love to be reminded of that gown forever.”

 

As she munches on the biscuit and takes a sip of tea from her teacup, Edith suddenly has an idea. One of her pleasures in her spare time is to collect articles on the latest styles of clothes and hair from Lettice’s old magazines and paste them into scrapbooks. Her current scrapbook has a blank first page which she has kept for something special. Now she knows what that something special is.

 

Slipping quietly out into the drawing room of the flat, Edith fossicks carefully through the Chippendale gilded black japanned chinoiserie cabinet next to the fireplace and withdraws her mistress’ box of watercolours which she takes back to the kitchen. Going into her own little bedroom off the kitchen she withdraws a pack of coloured pencils from her chest of drawers and snatches up her scrapbook from its surface where it sits upright behind her sewing box, leaning against the floral papered wall. Returning to the kitchen she sets everything out on the table.

 

“Come on now girl,” Edith mutters encouragingly to herself as she takes up a grey lead pencil. “Let’s put that memory of yours to the test and see if we can’t get it out on paper.”

 

The pencil tip scratches across the paper as Edith’s hand moves deftly over the page. She starts to hum ‘After the Ball is Over’*****. Soon the figure of a woman emerges on the page with a short chignon dancing gaily with one arm out and another crossed over her chest. The room remains silent except for the tick of the clock, Edith’s soft humming and the sound of pencil against paper as the dress quickly takes form, with its cascades of layers billowing out over the model’s legs, the gown daringly showing her calves, just as Viscountess Norwich had when she danced with her handsome husband and other friends at the party.

 

“Not bad,” Edith says as she finishes her sketch. “Not bad at all. Now for some colour.”

 

She goes to the kitchen cupboard where she keeps the old Victorian jugs that Lettice uses for water when she is doing watercolour sketching and withdraws the smallest jug. Filling it with some water she goes back to her seat. She looks guiltily at her mistress’ watercolours resting atop the scrapbook.

 

“Well,” Edith reasons. “My schoolteachers all said I had artistic flair.” She sighs. “And if I were as lucky as Miss Lettice, I’d have had a tutor to teach me art, or maybe even have gone to the Slade School of Fine Art. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind me using her paints just this one time.”

 

She releases a sigh of pleasure as she mixes the vibrant robin’s egg blue shade of the gown and begins to paint her sketched figure. The colour lightens as she reaches the hem, matching the stockings on her model. Adding more colour to the pool of blue she then defines the shoes. Rinsing the brush in the jug she waits until the blue paint is dry before adding the rose madder of the silk rose on the shoulder and sleeve, and blonde hair to match her own shade to her figure. Making notes about Lettice’s party in the margins around the edge of her picture, Edith waits until the watercolour is dry. Taking up her colour pencils she adds detail, highlights of colour and shading to her sketch, totally oblivious of the time as the hands on the kitchen clock pass one o’clock, all the while humming happily away.

 

“There!” Edith remarks at last, satisfied with her creation. “Perhaps I could give Mr. Bruton a run for his money.” She chuckles to herself at the thought. “Now I shall have Lady Cooper’s gown forever.”

 

As she starts to pack up the watercolours, pencils, sketchbook and tea things she continues to hum ‘After the Ball is Over’, her body swaying to the tune as she imagines herself dancing at a party in the beautiful gown she had just created from memory on paper.

 

*A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.

 

**Gunter and Company were London caterers and ball furnishers with shops in Berkley Square, Sloane Street, Lowndes Street and New Bond Street. They began as Gunter’s Tea Shop at 7 and 8 Berley Square 1757 where it remained until 1956 as the business grew and opened different premises. In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries Gunter's became a fashionable light eatery in Mayfair, notable for its ices and sorbets. Gunter's was considered to be the wedding cake makers du jour and in 1889, made the bride cake for the marriage of Queen Victoria’s granddaughter, Princess Louise of Wales. Even after the tea shop finally closed, the catering business carried on until the mid 1970s.

 

***Born Lady Diana Manners, Diana Olivia Winifred Maud Cooper, Viscountess Norwich was an English aristocrat who was a famously glamorous social figure in London and Paris. As a young woman, she moved in a celebrated group of intellectuals known as the Coterie, most of whom were killed in the First World War. She married Duff Cooper in 1919. In her prime, she had the widespread reputation as the most beautiful young woman in England, and appeared in countless profiles, photographs and articles in newspapers and magazines. She was a film actress in the early 1920s and both she and her husband were very good friends with Edward VIII and were guests of his on a 1936 yacht cruise of the Adriatic which famously caused his affair with Wallis Simpson to become public knowledge.

 

****The ‘robe de style’ was introduced by French couturier Jeanne Lanvin around 1915. It consisted of a basque bodice with a broad neckline and an oval bouffant skirt supported by built in wire hoops. Reminiscent of the Spanish infanta-style dresses of the Seventeenth Century and the panniered robe à la française of the Eighteenth Century they were made of fabric in a solid colour, particularly a deep shade of robin’s egg blue which became known as Lanvin blue, and were ornamented with concentrated bursts of embroidery, ribbons or ornamental silk flowers.

 

*****’After the Ball is Over’ was a popular 1891 song written by Charles K. Harris.

 

Believe it or not Edith’s sketch and her scrapbook as well as all the items around them are perhaps not quite as they appear, for all of them are 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures from my miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

Edith’s scrapbook is a 1:12 size miniature made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. Therefore, it is a pleasure to give you a glimpse inside this wonderful scrapbook from the 1920s which contains sketches, photographs and article clippings. Even the paper has been given the appearance of wrinkling as happens when glue is applied to cheap pulp paper. To give you an idea of the work that has gone into this scrapbook, it contains twelve double sided pages of scrapbook articles, pictures, sketches and photographs and measures forty millimetres in height and thirty millimetres in width and is only three millimetres thick. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s opening books are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter. I hope that you enjoy this peek at just one of hundreds of his books that I own, and that it makes you smile with its sheer whimsy!

 

The watercolour paint set, brushes, and Limoges style jugs (two of a set of three) come from Melody Jane Dolls’ House. So too do the pencils, which are one millimetre wide and two centimetres long.

 

The Huntley and Palmer’s Family Circle Biscuits tin containing a replica selection of biscuits is also a 1:12 artisan piece. Huntley and Palmers is a British firm of biscuit makers originally based in Reading, Berkshire. The company created one of the world’s first global brands and ran what was once the world’s largest biscuit factory. Over the years, the company was also known as J. Huntley and Son and Huntley and Palmer. Huntley and Palmer were renown for their ‘superior reading biscuits’ which they promoted in different varieties for different occasions, including at breakfast time. The design on the tin originates from the 1920s, but continued much later due to its popularity. The biscuits on the plate are 1:12 scale artisan pieces. The jam fancy is made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering, whilst the chocolate chip biscuit has been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination.

 

The tea cosy, which fits snugly over a white porcelain teapot, has been hand knitted in fine lemon, blue and violet wool. It comes easily off and off and can be as easily put back on as a real tea cosy on a real teapot. It comes from a specialist miniatures stockist in England.

 

The Deftware cup, saucer and milk jug are part of a 1:12 size miniature porcelain dinner set which I acquired from a private collection of 1:12 miniatures in Holland.

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

After a busy morning working at her desk, painting some interior designs for the Duchess of Whitby, Lettice prepares to curl up in one of her armchairs and enjoy her latest library book from Boots, a thrilling mystery, when the telephone rings noisily on the occasional table beside her.

 

“Oh blast!” Lettice cries. “And just as I was getting comfortable.”

 

The silver and Bakelite telephone continues to trill loudly as Lettice brushes herself down and picks up the receiver.

 

“Mayfair 432,” she answers without the slightest trace of irritation in her very best telephone voice. A distant female voice speaks down the line. “Oh Mrs. Hatchett, how do you do. Yes, this is Miss Chetwynd speaking.” She listens. “You’d like me to visit your home in Sussex? Next Thursday? Well Mrs Hatchett, I am rather in demand at the moment, and it is after all, the Season, which makes it doubly difficult.” She listens to more simpering words coming down the line. “Let me just check my diary.”

 

Lettice deposits the receiver next to the telephone. She reaches across to the low table before her and helps herself to a sip of tea and a nibble of one of the biscuits Edith has brought her. She then flicks a few pages in her new novel. Finally, when she thinks enough time has passed, she reaches across past the telephone and picks up her leather-bound diary which is fastened with an ornate silver clip. Taking up her silver pen, she flicks to next Thursday, knowing full well that it is free. She puts a star next to the Friday to Monday country party inked in for the following day. She will have plenty of time to get down to Sussex by train to visit Mrs Hatchett’s parochial manor house and back again to London to then travel the next day to Worcestershire for the weekend party.

 

Picking up the receiver she says, “You’re lucky Mrs. Hatchett. Thursday is the only day I have free in my diary for next week.”

 

She smiles like a Cheshire cat as she listens to Mrs. Hatchett’s enthusiastic response.

 

“Now, if you’d just remind me of your address is Sussex please, Mrs. Hatchett.” She jots it in her diary. “And you will ensure your driver picks me up from Rotherfield and Mark Cross*?” She listens to Mrs. Hatchett’s reassurances. “Splendid! Shall we say one o’clock then?” She listens. “Yes? Very good. Yes… yes, I shall see you then. Good morning Mrs. Hatchett.”

 

Lettice hangs up the receiver and squeals with delight.

 

“Edith! Edith!” she calls.

 

Her maid scurries in, frustrated that her mistress insists of screaming through the flat rather than pressing the servants’ bell next to the fireplace. “Can I help you, Miss?”

 

“Oh Edith!” Lettice gasps, leaping up from her seat and clasping her hands in delight. “Such good news!”

 

“Yes Miss?” Edith asks, waiting to hear more.

 

“Your cake did the trick!”

 

“My cake, Miss?” Edith does not understand.

 

“Yes, yes! Your mother’s chocolate cake recipe, for Mrs. Hatchett. Remember?”

 

“Oh that cake!” Edith thinks to herself how many cakes she has made since the rather loud and somewhat gauche Mrs. Hatchett, wife of a banker, sat in Lettice’s drawing room, enthusing over her host’s taste and style. “Very good, Miss.”

 

“It’s splendid Edith. Mrs. Hatchett wants me to visit her next Thursday to look about her home to then propose some interior design ideas!” She throws her arms around Edith’s neck, much to the other woman’s consternation as she stiffens awkwardly at the overfamiliarity.

 

“I best fetch you the Bluebell timetable then, Miss.” Edith mutters, slipping from her mistress’ grasp.

 

“Edith,” Lettice called after her.

 

“Yes, Miss?”

 

“You’re such a brick!”

 

“Yes, Miss!”

 

Lettice sinks back down into her round tub armchair, picks up her book and sighs happily.

 

*The village of Rotherfield in East Sussex had a railway station open there on September 1st 1880. It was renamed Rotherfield and Mark Cross on November 11th 1901. It was never a busy railway station with only light traffic boarding to London, partly due to an inconvenient location. The station was finally closed on June 14th 1965.

 

This year the FFF+ Group have decided to have a weekly challenge called “Snap Happy”. A different theme chosen by a member of the group each week, and the image is to be posted on the Monday of the week.

 

This week the theme, “connections/connected” was chosen by David, DaveSPN.

 

I have taken a slightly different perspective on the theme, but I hope that this telephone, which kept people connected in the 1920s and keep them equally connected today. This upper-class domestic scene is different to what you may think, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:

 

The black Bakelite and silver telephone is a 1:12 miniature of a model introduced around 1919.

 

The vase of red roses on the Art Deco occasional table and the glass vase of pink roses on the right-hand side of the mantlepiece are beautifully made by hand by the Doll House Emporium.

 

Lettice’s tea set is a beautiful artisan set featuring a rather avant-garde Art Deco Royal Doulton design from the Edwardian era. The biscuits are also artisan miniatures from a specialist stockist of food stuffs. He has a dizzying array of meals which is always growing, and all are made entirely or put together by hand.

 

Lettice’s drawing room is furnished with beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The Art Deco tub chairs are of black japanned wood and have removable cushions, just like their life sized examples. To the left of the fireplace is a Hepplewhite drop-drawer bureau and chair of black japanned wood which has been hand painted with chinoiserie designs, even down the legs and inside the bureau. The chair set has a rattan seat, which has also been hand woven. To the right of the fireplace is a Chippendale cabinet which has also been decorated with chinoiserie designs. It also features very ornate metalwork hinges and locks.

 

On the top of the Hepplewhite bureau stand three real miniature photos in frames including an Edwardian silver frame, a Victorian brass frame and an Art Deco blue Bakelite and glass frame.

 

The fireplace is a 1:12 miniature resin Art Deco fireplace which is flanked by brass accessories including an ash brush with real bristles.

 

On the left hand side of the mantle is an Art Deco metal clock hand painted with wonderful detail by British miniature artisan Victoria Fasken.

 

In the middle of the mantle is a miniature artisan hand painted Art Deco statue on a “marble” plinth. Made by Warwick Miniatures in England, it is a 1:12 copy of the “Theban Dancer” sculpture created by Claire-Jeanne-Roberte Colinet in 1925.

 

The carpet beneath the furniture is a copy of a popular 1920s style Chinese silk rug, and the geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

 

If you are interested in LICENSING one of my photos, please contact me by email.

title.

Side road of Hermes.

                  

( Fujifilm GFX50R shot. )

        

Honolulu. Hawaii. USA. December. 2019. shot ... 3 / 6

(Today's photo, which has not been announced yet.)

         

images.

Flipp Dinero - If I Tell You

youtu.be/ZBczOvTk0UM

         

The image of the next novel.

Still would stand all time. (Unforgettable'2)

(It will never go away)

            

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Profile.

In November 2014, we caught the attention of the party selected to undertake the publicity for a mobile phone that changed the face of the world with just a single model, and will conclude a confidentiality agreement with them.

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

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Interviews and novels.

About my book.

  

I published a book in old days.

At that time, I was uploading my interview on the net on the net.

That Japanese and English.

 

I will make it public for free.

Details were explained to the Amazon site.

 

How to write a novel.

How to take pictures.

Distance to the work.

 

They all have a common item.

I made a sentence about what I felt, and left it.

I hope that my text can be read by many people.

Thank you.

 

Mitsushiro.

  

1 Interview in English

 

2 novels. unforgettable 'English version.(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

 

3 Interview Japanese version

 

4 novels. unforgettable ' JPN version.

 

5 A streamlined trajectory. only Japanese.

 

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

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_________________________________

  

iBooks. Electronic Publishing. It is free now.

 

0.about the iBooks.

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

1.unforgettable '(ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...

 

2.unforgettable '(JNP.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...

 

3. Streamlined trajectory.(For Japanese only.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8... =11

 

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My Novel >> Unforgettable'

 

(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

  

Synopsis.

 

Kei Kitami who aims at university.

A 6 year old older event companion woman. Meet Kaori Uemura on SNS.

 

The dream of Kaori who has moved to Tokyo.

It is to be a friend of the artist.

 

The producer of the radio station for that. The existence of Ryo Osawa was necessary.

Live on the radio.Osawa talks to Kaori.

 

"I have a wife and a child, but I want to see you."

Kei’s classmate Rika Sanzyou who is thinking of him.

She was searching for Kaori.

 

※ Supplement

I use Google Translate.

  

Mitsushiro Nakagawa

All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .

www.fotolog.net/yuming/

  

images.

U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related

  

Main story

 

There are two reasons why a person faces the sea.

One, to enjoy a slice of shine in the sea like children bubbling over in the beach.

The other, to brush the dust of memory like an old man who misses old days, staring at the shine

quietly.

Those lead to only one meaning though they do not seem to overlap. It’s a rebirth.

I face myself to change tomorrow, a vague day into something certain.

That is the meaning of a rebirth.

I had a very sweet girlfriend when I was 18.

After she left, I knew the meaning of gentleness for the first time and also a true pain of loss. After

she left, how many times did I depend too much on her, doubt her, envy her and keep on telling lies

until I realized it is love?

I wonder whether a nobody like me could have given something to her who was struggling in the

daily life in those days. Giving something is arrogant conceit. It is nothing but self-satisfaction.

I had been thinking about such a thing.

However, I guess what she saw in me was because I had nothing. That‘s why she tried to see

something in me. Perhaps she found a slight possibility in me, a guy filled with ambiguous, unstable

tomorrow. But I wasted days depending too much on her gentleness.

Now I finally can convey how I felt in those days when we met.

  

1/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...

2/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...

3/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...

4/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...

5/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...

6/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...

7/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...

8/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...

9/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...

  

Fin.

  

images.

U2 - No Line On The Horizon

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related

 

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Title of my book > unforgettable'

Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa

Out Now.

ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

in Amazon.

www.amazon.co.jp/Unforgettable’-Mitsushiro-Nakagawa/dp/...

 

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The schedule of the next novel.

Still would stand all time. (Unforgettable '2)

(It will not go away forever)

Please give me some more time. That is Japanese.

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Exhibition of 2021.

 

Tuesday, May 11-Sunday, May 16

 

The Kawamura Memorial DIC Museum of Art @ Gallery 1.

kawamura-museum.dic.co.jp/en/

 

place. Sakura City, Chiba Prefecture.

 

theme.

Ever since that day ...

  

2022 exhibition.

 

theme.

So Near, So far.

 

place. Tokyo Big Site.

www.bigsight.jp/

 

Sponsoring. Design festa.

designfesta.com/

    

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My Works.

 

1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...

2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...

3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...

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Do you want to hear my voice?

:)

 

I updated Youtube.

It is only in Japanese.

I explained comments on photos etc.

If your time is permitted, please look.

:)

 

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

 

1

About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. First type.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

 

2

About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. Second type.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=443

 

3

About when I started Fotolog. Architect 's point of view.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=649

 

4

Why did not you have a camera so far?

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=708

 

5

What is the coolest thing? The photo is as it is.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=776

 

6

About the current YouTube bar. I also want to tell, I want to leave.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=964

 

7

About Japanese photographers. Japanese YouTube bar is Pistols.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1059

 

8

The composition of the photograph is sensibility. Meet the designers in Milan. Two questions.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1242

 

9

What is a good composition? What is a bad composition?

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1482

 

10

What is the time to point the camera? It is slow if you are looking into the viewfinder or display.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1662

 

11

Family photos. I can not take pictures with others. The inside of the subject.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1745

 

12

About YouTube 's photographer. Camera technology etc. Sensibility is polished by reading books.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2144

 

13

About the Japanese newspaper. A picture of a good newspaper is Reuters. If you continue to look at useless photographs, it will be useless.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2305

 

14

About Japanese photographers. About the exhibition.

Summary. I wrote a novel etc. What I want to tell the most.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2579

 

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I talked about how to make a work.

It's really long, but I want to leave everything, so please ask. (^ O ^) /

 

Japanese only.

  

About work production 1/2

youtu.be/ZFjqUJn74kM

  

About work production 2/2

youtu.be/pZIbXmnXuCw

 

1 Photo exhibition up to that point. Did you want to go?

 

2 Well, what is an exhibition that you want to visit even if you go there?

 

3 Challenge to exhibit one work every month before opening a solo exhibition at the Harajuku Design Festa.

 

4 works are materials and silhouettes. Similar to fashion.

 

5 Who is your favorite artist? What is it? Make it clear.

 

6 Creating a collage is exactly the same as taking photos. As I wrote in the interview, it is the same as writing a novel.

 

7 I want to show it to someone, but I do not make a piece to show it. Aim for the work you want to decorate your own room as in the photo.

 

8 What is copycat? Nowadays, it is suspected to be beaten. There is something called Mimesis?

 

ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mimesis

kotobank.jp/word/Mimesis-139464

 

9 What is Individuality? What is originality?

   

It is a flow of.

 

If you have time, please listen.

:)

 

www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/

 

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Explanation of composition. 2

   

I used the following cameras.

  

Nikon coolpix 8700

  

I defeated two of these cameras.

It was a very nice camera.

I took many photos with this camera.

  

Today's photo.

It was also taken with this camera.

 

I explained the composition in detail in the text at the time of shooting.

 

I have taken a lot of pictures until today.

Among them, this photo is the result of sharpening my sensitivity.

 

I will explain this composition in a video.

But they are all Japanese.

  

Is there a Japanese beside you?

Is there anyone who can understand Japanese beside you?

  

Please have them translate.

  

I leave an important story about composition.

I hope they will reach many people.

    

October 22, 2019, midnight.

Mitsushiro.

   

1.Composition explanation 2 ... 1/4

youtu.be/yVbvneBIMs8

 

2.Composition explanation 2 ... 2/4

youtu.be/LToFez9vOAw

 

3.Composition Explanation 2 ... 3/4

youtu.be/uTR0wVi9Z7M

 

4.Composition Explanation 2 ... 4/4

youtu.be/h2LjfU6Vvno

 

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My shutter feeling.

 

youtu.be/3JkbGiFLjAM

 

Today's photo.

It is a photo taken from Eurostar.

 

This video is an explanation.

 

I went to Milan in 2005.

At that time, I went from Milan to Venice.

We took Eurostar into the transportation.

 

This photo was not taken from a very fast Eurostar.

When I changed the track, I took a picture at the moment I slowed down.

  

Is there a Japanese beside you?

Please have my video translated.

:)

  

Mitsushiro.

 

( Nikon Coolpix 8700. shot)

  

In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

flickr.

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

instagram.

www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Pinterest.

www.pinterest.jp/mitsushiro/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

YouPic

www.flickr.com/people/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

twitter.

twitter.com/mitsushiro

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

facebook.

www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Amazon.

www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

My statistics. (As of June 11, 2020)

youtu.be/RlugKVEe4bs

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Japanese is the following.

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

#Milan #Italy #LUMIX #G3 #FUJIFILM #MothinLilac #MIL #GFX50R #Hnolulu #Mono #Chiba #Japan #Exhibition #Flickr #YOUPIC #gallery #Camera #collage #Subway #street #Novel #Publishing #Mitsushiro #Nakagawa #artist #NY #Interview #Photograph #picture #Hawaii #take #write #novel #display #art #future #designfesta #Kawamura #Memorial #DIC #Museum #Fineart #川村記念美術館 #Manhattan #USA #London #UK #Paris #Kawamura

 

For insta

#川村記念美術館 #Manhattan #London #Paris #kawamura #Milan #MothinLilac #LUMIX #MIL #FUJIFILM #GFX50R #Honolulu #Fineart #Japan #Exhibition #Flickr #YOUPIC #Camera #Subway #street #Novel #Publishing #Mitsushiro #artist #Photograph #picture #novel #Fineart #future #designfesta

 

For twitter

#NY #London #Paris #Milan #LUMIX #FUJIFILM #川村記念美術館 #写真 #Exhibition #Flickr #Camera #street #Hawaii #Honolulu #Mitsushiro #artist #Kawamura #designfesta #Fineart

 

#ミラノ #イタリア #カメラ #写真 #構図 #ニコン #Nikon #coolpix #クールピクス #ベニス #ユーロスター #Eurostar #シャッター #shutter #camera #photo #picture #千葉 #日本 #chiba #Japan #八街 #佐倉

 

For insta, twitter

#yachimata #chiba #japan #mono #selfportrait #exibition #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #日本 #展示 #川村記念美術館 #写真 #nikon #ニコン #iphone11pro

 

#yachimata #chiba #japan #mono #honolulu #exhibition #hawaii #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #日本 #展示会 #川村記念美術館 #ハワイ #写真 #アップル #shotoniphone #ホノルル #ワイキキ

 

#yachimata #chiba #japan #monochrome #honolulu #exhibition #hawaii #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #日本 #展示 #川村記念美術館 #ハワイ #カメラ #富士フィルム #gfx50r #lumix #パナソニック #アップル #shotoniphone #ホノルル #ワイキキ #写真 #吉祥寺 #ライブハウス #クレッシェンド #東京 #bbb #badbabybomb #apple-car #airpodspro #AR

 

#yachimata #chiba #hawaii #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #川村記念美術館 #富士フィルム #shotoniphone #吉祥寺 #ライブハウス #東京 #bbb #badbabybomb #apple-car

        

タイトル。

エルメスの側道。

                         

( Fujifilm GFX50R shot. )

           

ホノルル。ハワイ。USA。 １２月。２０１９年。 shot ... 　　　　3 / 6

(今日の写真。それは未発表です。)

        

images.

Flipp Dinero - If I Tell You

youtu.be/ZBczOvTk0UM

         

次の小説のイメージ。

Still would stand all time.(unforgettable'2)

（いつまでもなくならないだろう）

          

_________________________________

_________________________________

プロフィール。

2014年11月、たった1機種で世界を塗り替えた携帯電話の広告を請け負った選考者の目に留まり、秘密保持同意書を結ぶ。

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

インタビューと小説。

僕の本について。

 

僕は、昔に本を出版しました。

その際に、僕のインタビューをPDFでネット上へアップロードしていました。

その日本語と英語。

 

僕は、無料でを公開します。

詳細は、アマゾンのサイトへ解説しました。

 

小説の書き方。

写真の撮影方法。

作品への距離感。

 

これらはすべて共通項があります。

僕は、僕が感じたことを文章にして、残しました。

 

僕のテキストが多くの人に読んでもらえることを望みます。

ありがとう。

 

Mitsushiro.

 

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

  

１　インタビュー　英語版

 

２　小説。unforgettable’ 英語版。

 

３　インタビュー　日本語版

 

４　小説。unforgettable’ 日本語版。(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)

(四百字詰め原稿用紙４５６枚)

 

　あらすじ

　大学を目指している北見ケイは、SNS上で、6歳年上のイベントコンパニオン、上村香織に出会う。

　上京してきた香織の夢は、有名なアーティストの友達になるためだ。

　そのためにはラジオ局のプロデューサー、大沢亮の存在が必要だった。

　大沢は、ラジオの生放送中、香織へ語りかける。

　「僕には妻子がある。しかし、僕は君に会いたいと思っている」

　ケイの同級生で、彼を想っている三條里香は、香織の動向を探っていた。。。。。

  

本編

 

人が海へ向かう理由には、二つある。

　ひとつは、波打ち際ではしゃぐ子供のように、今の瞬間の海の輝きを楽しむこと。

　もうひとつは、その輝きを静かに見据えて、過ぎ去った日々を懐かしむ老人のように記憶の埃を払うこと。

　二つは重なり合わないようではあるけれども、たったひとつの意味しか生まない。

　再生だ。

　明日っていう、曖昧な日を確実なものへと変えてゆくために、自分の存在に向き合う。

　それが再生の意味だ。

 

　十八歳だった僕には大切な人がいた。

 

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

  

５　流線形の軌跡。　日本語のみ。

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

iBooks.電子出版。（現在は無料）

 

0.about the iBooks.

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

1.unforgettable’ ( ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...

For Japanese only.

 

2.unforgettable’ ( JNP.ver.)(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...

 

3.流線形の軌跡。

itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕の小説。英語版　

My Novel Unforgettable' (This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

 

Mitsushiro Nakagawa

All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .

www.fotolog.net/yuming/

   

1/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...

2/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...

3/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...

4/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...

5/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...

6/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...

7/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...

8/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...

9/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...

Fin.

  

images.

U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Title of my book > unforgettable'

Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa

Out Now.

 

ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

in Amazon.

www.amazon.co.jp/Unforgettable’-Mitsushiro-Nakagawa/dp/...

_________________________________

_________________________________

次の小説の予定。

Still would stand all time.(unforgettable'2)

（いつまでもなくならないだろう）

もう少し時間をください。それは日本語です。

_________________________________

_________________________________

   

２０２１年の展示。

 

５月１１日　火曜日　～　５月１６日　日曜日

 

DIC川村記念美術館　第１付属ギャラリー。

kawamura-museum.dic.co.jp/

 

場所。千葉県佐倉市。

 

テーマ。

あの日から、ずっと…

    

２０２２年の展示。

 

テーマ。

So Near , So far.

 

場所。東京ビッグサイト。

www.bigsight.jp/

 

Sponsoring. Design festa.

designfesta.com/

     

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕の作品。

 

1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...

2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...

3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

あなたは僕の声を聞きたいですか？

:)

 

僕はYoutubeを更新しました。

日本語だけです。

僕は写真などの解説をしました。

もしも、あなたの時間が許されれば、見てください。

:)

 

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

  

1

フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。１種類目。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

 

2

フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。２種類目。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=443

 

3

Fotologを始めた時について。 建築家の視点。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=649

 

4

なぜ、今までカメラを手にしなかったのか？

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=708

 

5

何が一番かっこいいのか？　写真はありのままに。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=776

 

6

現在のユーチューバーについて。僕も伝え、残したい。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=964

 

7

日本人の写真家について。日本のユーチューバーはピストルズ。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1059

 

8

写真の構図は、感性。ミラノのデザイナーに会って。二つの質問。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1242

 

9

良い構図とは？　悪い構図とは？

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1482

 

10

カメラを向ける時とは？　ファインダーやディスプレイを覗いていては遅い。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1662

 

11

家族写真。他人では撮れない。被写体の内面。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1745

 

12

ユーチューブの写真家について。カメラの技術等。感性は、本を読むことで磨く。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2144

 

13

日本の新聞について。良い新聞の写真はロイター。ダメな写真を見続けるとダメになる。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2305

 

14

日本の写真家について。その展示について。

まとめ。僕が書いた小説など。僕が最も伝えたいこと。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2579

  

作品の制作方法などついて語りました。

すっごい長いですが、すべて伝え残したいことなので聞いてください。(^O^)／

日本語のみです。

  

作品制作について 1/2

youtu.be/ZFjqUJn74kM

 

作品制作について 2/2

youtu.be/pZIbXmnXuCw

  

１　それまでの写真展。自分は行きたいと思ったか？

 

２　じゃ、自分が足を運んででも行きたい展示とは何か？

 

３　原宿デザインフェスタで個展を開くまでに、毎月ひとつの作品を展示することにチャレンジ。

 

４　作品とは、素材とシルエット。ファッションと似ている。

 

５　自分が好きなアーティストは誰か？　どんなものなのか？　そこをはっきりさせる。

 

６　コラージュの作成も写真の撮り方と全く同じ。インタビューに書いたように小説の書き方とも同じ。

 

７　誰かに見せたい、見せるがために作品は作らない。写真と同じように自分の部屋に飾りたい作品を目指す。

 

８　パクリとは何か？　昨今、叩かれるパクリ疑惑。ミメーシスとは？

 

　　https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/ミメーシス

　　https://kotobank.jp/word/ミメーシス-139464

  

９　個性とはなにか？　オリジナリティってなに？

 

おまけ　眞子さまについて

 

という流れです。

お時間がある方は是非聴いてください。

:)

 

www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

構図の解説２

   

僕は以下のカメラを使用していました。

 

Nikon coolpix 8700

 

僕はこのカメラを二台使い倒しました。

とても素敵なカメラでした。

このカメラでたくさんの写真を撮りました。

 

今日の写真。

それもこのカメラで撮影しました。

  

この構図について、僕は撮影した当時詳しくテキストで解説しました。

 

僕は今日までたくさんの写真を撮ってきました。

その中でも、この写真はもっとも僕の感性を研ぎ澄ました結果です。

 

僕はこの構図について、動画で解説します。

しかし、それらはすべて日本語です。

 

あなたのそばに日本人はいますか？

あなたのそばに日本語がわかる人はいますか？

 

彼らに訳してもらってください。

 

僕は、構図について大切な話を残します。

それらが多くの人へ伝わることを望みます。

  

2019年10月２２日深夜。

Mitsushiro.

     

1.構図の解説２ ... 1/4

youtu.be/yVbvneBIMs8

 

2.構図の解説２ ... 2/4

youtu.be/LToFez9vOAw

 

3.構図の解説２ ... 3/4

youtu.be/uTR0wVi9Z7M

 

4.構図の解説２ ... 4/4

youtu.be/h2LjfU6Vvno

    

Nikon Coolpix 8700

 

１　アマゾンの評価

www.amazon.co.jp/ニコン-E8700-J-ニコン-デジタル...

 

２　ニコンの情報

www.nikon-image.com/products/compact/lineup/8700/

  

#写真 #構図 #カメラ #イタリア #ミラノ #中央駅 #２００５年 #ニコン #クールピクス８７００

#Photo #Composition #Camera #Italy #Milan #Central #Station #2005 #Nikon #Coolpix 8700

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕のシャッター感覚

 

youtu.be/3JkbGiFLjAM

  

今日の写真。

それは、ユーロスターから撮影した写真です。

 

この動画はその解説です。

 

２００５年にミラノへ行きました。

そのとき、ミラノからヴェニスへ向かいました。

交通手段に、僕らはユーロスターを乗り込みました。

 

この写真は、猛スピードのユーロスターから撮影したのではありません。

線路を変更した際、スピードを落とした瞬間に撮影しました。

  

あなたのそばに日本人はいますか？

僕の動画を翻訳してもらってください。

:)

  

Mitsushiro.

  

( Nikon Coolpix 8700. shot)

     

In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2

  

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...

  

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

flickr.

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

YouTube.

www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

instagram.

www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Pinterest.

www.pinterest.jp/mitsushiro/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

YouPic

www.flickr.com/people/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

fotolog

www.fotolog.com/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

twitter.

twitter.com/mitsushiro

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

facebook.

www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Amazon.

www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕の統計。（2020年6月11日現在）

youtu.be/RlugKVEe4bs

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Japanese is the following.

drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...

 

Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

_________________________________

_________________________________

   

#Milan #Italy #LUMIX #G3 #FUJIFILM #MothinLilac #MIL #GFX50R #Hnolulu #Mono #Chiba #Japan #Exhibition #Flickr #YOUPIC #gallery #Camera #collage #Subway #street #Novel #Publishing #Mitsushiro #Nakagawa #artist #NY #Interview #Photograph #picture #Hawaii #take #write #novel #display #art #future #designfesta #Kawamura #Memorial #DIC #Museum #Fineart #川村記念美術館 #Manhattan #USA #London #UK #Paris #Kawamura

 

For insta

#川村記念美術館 #Manhattan #London #Paris #kawamura #Milan #MothinLilac #LUMIX #MIL #FUJIFILM #GFX50R #Honolulu #Fineart #Japan #Exhibition #Flickr #YOUPIC #Camera #Subway #street #Novel #Publishing #Mitsushiro #artist #Photograph #picture #novel #Fineart #future #designfesta

 

For twitter

#NY #London #Paris #Milan #LUMIX #FUJIFILM #川村記念美術館 #写真 #Exhibition #Flickr #Camera #street #Hawaii #Honolulu #Mitsushiro #artist #Kawamura #designfesta #Fineart

 

#ミラノ #イタリア #カメラ #写真 #構図 #ニコン #Nikon #coolpix #クールピクス #ベニス #ユーロスター #Eurostar #シャッター #shutter #camera #photo #picture #千葉 #日本 #chiba #Japan #八街 #佐倉

 

For insta, twitter

#yachimata #chiba #japan #mono #selfportrait #exibition #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #日本 #展示 #川村記念美術館 #写真 #nikon #ニコン #iphone11pro

 

#yachimata #chiba #japan #mono #honolulu #exhibition #hawaii #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #日本 #展示会 #川村記念美術館 #ハワイ #写真 #アップル #shotoniphone #ホノルル #ワイキキ

 

#yachimata #chiba #japan #monochrome #honolulu #exhibition #hawaii #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #日本 #展示 #川村記念美術館 #ハワイ #カメラ #富士フィルム #gfx50r #lumix #パナソニック #アップル #shotoniphone #ホノルル #ワイキキ #写真 #成田 #空港 #airport #narita #applecar #airpodspro #AR

 

#yachimata #chiba #hawaii #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #川村記念美術館 #富士フィルム #hawaii #applecar #ハワイ #空港 #airport #gfx50r　

 

#yachimata #chiba #japan #monochrome #honolulu #exhibition #hawaii #kawamuramemorialdicmuseumofart #八街 #千葉 #展示 #川村記念美術館 #ハワイ #富士フィルム #アップル #shotoniphone #applecar #airpodspro

  

補足です！！

６月２０現在、ダイエット始めた５月中旬からだいたい６キロ以上減量しちゃいました。

これはヤバイ😅 女子はやせすぎに気をつけてください。

やる気出すと、これ、どんどん減ります。

体だけでなく、精神も蝕まれるので、ぜったいに気をつけてくださいね！　😃

僕はそろそろやめますよ！！　😃

  

ユーチューブ、 3本、

 

更新しました😃

  

１　夏、カミング、ダイエット😃

youtu.be/9PhesNZaxaU

 

高校卒業時まで、体重を落とした話。

 

カロリーメイトで４．４キロ痩せました😃

小中学生高校生はやってはいけません。

 

２　夏、カミング、ダイエット２！　どんな格好で走って、どんなもん食べてるの？

youtu.be/_vQJKPCLx8Q

  

チャンネル登録者数

5人⭐️⭐️⭐️

ありがとう！　😃

 

カタツムリジョギング

 

いつから始めたか？

30年以上前から

 

どんな格好でジョギングしているか？

あられもない格好。

不審者。

でもおまわりさんはクリア。

 

お金をかけるつもりは、微塵もない。

 

どんな夕飯を食べているか？

  

３　My stats.12,000,000 View

youtu.be/RlugKVEe4bs

 

僕の統計。

２０２０年６月１１日現在。

総合計、だいたい、12,000,000 View

ありがとうございます😃

  

E

  

Supplement

 

I love these - they look so delicate and their beauty is so temporary, each flower only really lasts a day and it has been so windy past few days.

 

I enjoy seeing them reappear each year. I have planted them in various hedges (the seedlings appear in veg beds and i transplant these) to supplement the ones that are naturally in our lane hedge and the hedges around our house.

 

The Damned - New Rose

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUxFQ5QBiYk

  

One of the best things about keeping breeding herds of sable is that we can attend the daily supplement feeding and walk amongst them.

 

Occasionally they get a little too close when we are both distracted and then this happens.

 

As I've mentioned in previous posts the larger of the two herds has now been released onto the whole reserve. They have continued to produce calves and have now started to split into two distinct herds following the (unintended) introduction of another Bull which was found wandering in the main tar road alongside the reserve. It wasn't one of ours so one can only assume that it's an escapee from a neighbouring farm.

 

Kudu Private Nature Reserve

Lydenburg

Mpumalanga

South Africa

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

It's a quarter past eight and Lettice is still happy asleep in her bed, buried beneath a thick and soft counterpane of embroidered oriental satin brocade, whilst the rest of Mayfair is slowly awakening in the houses and flats around her. Her peaceful slumbers are rudely interrupted by a peremptory knock on her boudoir door.

 

“Morning Miss.” Edith, Lettice’s maid, says brightly as she pops her head around the white painted panelled door as she opens it.

 

Lettice grunts – a most unladylike reaction – as she starts to wake up, disorientated, wondering for just a moment where she is before realising that she is in her own bed in Cavendish Mews. Sitting up in bed she winces as Edith draws the curtains back along their railing, flooding the room with a light, which whilst anaemic, is still painful to her eyes as the adjust.

 

“It looks like it’s going to be a showery and overcast day today, Miss.” Edith says with seriousness as she looks out of the window onto the street below. “None too good for that charity event you are going to today.”

 

“Charity event?” Lettice queries, rubbing the sleep from her sore eyes and exhaling through her nose. “What,” She yawns, not bothering to stifle it and stretches her arms. “What charity event, Edith?”

 

“That theatrical one you are going to with Mr. Bruton in Regent’s Park, Miss.” Edith replies, walking across the floor of her mistress’ bedroom, snatching discarded lingerie and stockings from the floor as she goes as she opens the door to the adjoining bathroom.

 

“Oh that!” Lettice answers. “The Theatrical Garden Party isn’t until next week, Edith.”

 

“Oh, I thought it was today, Miss.” The maid lifts the upholstered lid on a wicker laundry basket just inside the bathroom door and deposits Lettice’s lacy undergarments and stockings into it. “I must have my weeks confused.” She emerges and goes to one of Lettice’s polished wardrobes where she withdraws a pale pink bed jacket trimmed in marabou feathers from its wooden hanger.

 

“No, the Actors’ Orphanage Garden Party* is definitely next week, Edith,” Lettice says aloud to assure herself as much as her maid as she allows Edith to drape the bed jacket around her shoulders. She sighs and looks out at the grey day that peeps through the window. “Thank goodness. We’d hate for it to be a wash-out. Last year drew such crowds.”

 

Edith goes back to the open bedroom door and disappears momentarily into the hallway before returning with Lettice’s breakfast tray.

 

Punching and fluffing her pillows behind her to her satisfaction, Lettice nestles into her nest as she sits up properly in bed and allows her maid to place the tray across her lap. She looks down approvingly at the slice of golden toast in the middle of the pretty floral plate, the egg in the matching egg cup and the pot of tea with steam rising from the spout. She goes to lift the lid of the silver preserve pot.

 

“Marmalade, Miss.” Edith elucidates.

 

“Very good, Edith.”

 

“You… err… finished the last of the Glynes plum and raspberry conserve yesterday, Miss.”

 

“Did I?” Lettice remarks, withdrawing her napkin from underneath the plate and draping it across her front. “Oh well, all good things must come to an end, mustn’t they, Edith?”

 

“I couldn’t say, Miss.” Edith replies, her mouth forming into a slim line on her face as she keeps quiet about what she considers to be an extravagant amount of jam that Lettice applies to her toast every morning. In her opinion her mistress may as well forgo the toast altogether and eat the jam directly from the pot with a spoon. “The marmalade is shop bought, Miss.”

 

“Is it? Oh well, never mind.” Lettice answers as she takes up a spoon and begins to dollop the rich gelatinous golden orange marmalade onto her slice of toast. “I’ll fetch some more conserve from Mater and Pater next time I’m back in Wiltshire.” She takes the knife and spreads the thick layer across the toast before cutting the slice in half with crunching strokes. “Any post yet, Edith?”

 

“Some tradesmen’s correspondence and a larger envelope without a return address on it, Miss.”

 

“That will be a begging letter,” Lettice points the knife at her maid, slicing the air with it. “Put them on my desk will you. I’ll see to them when I get up.”

 

“Yes Miss.” Edith bobs a curtsey and goes to withdraw, yet just as she is about to close the bedroom door she glances at something on the console table outside. “Oh, and there is this, Miss, which I should think you’ll want to see.”

 

Lettice looks down the length of the room to where Edith holds up a copy of Country Life** in the doorway. She gasps. “Oh hoorah! Bring it here this instant, Edith!” She holds out her arms, twiddling her fingers anxiously.

 

“Yes Miss.” Edith bobs a curtsey and brings the crisp magazine to her mistress’ bedside.

 

“What page is it on, Edith?” Lettice asks, grasping the folded pages from her maid and opening it before her, over the top of her breakfast tray.

 

“I couldn’t say, Miss.” Edith replies, her intonation reflecting the mild outrage she feels at being asked such a question. “As if I would go through your personal mail, Miss.” Even though she has done just as Lettice has suggested and found and skimmed the article on Lettice’s redecoration of ‘Chi an Treth’, there is no need for her to know.

 

“Oh of course you haven’t, Edith. I’m sorry” Lettice apologises, lowering the magazine and looking up at her maid with remorse in her blue eyes. “Forgive me?”

 

“Of course, Miss.”

 

“I’m so grateful to have a maid who doesn’t pry.”

 

“Yes Miss.” Edith answers with a smug smile. “Will that be all, Miss.”

 

“Yes, yes, Edith!” Lettice answers with a dismissive flip of her right hand as she lets go of half the copy of Country Life which drapes across her breakfast, narrowly avoiding being smeared with marmalade. “I should be finished in about a half hour and then you can clean up.”

 

“Very good, Miss.”

 

Once Edith has retreated and closed the door behind her, Lettice foists the breakfast tray from her lap onto the empty left half of the bed, the crockery and cutlery protesting noisily at being thrust so forcefully from her. Drawing her knees up, she rests the latest edition of Country Life on her thighs and turns to the contents page, scanning the list of articles and editorials. “Aha!” she gasps triumphantly upon finding it.

 

Flipping through the pages past other houses of note quicky, the paper rustles beneath her fingers until she reaches the editorial she wants. Taking a deep breath she begins to read quietly aloud to herself, “Country homes and gardens old and new. ‘Chi an Treth’, Cornwall, the seat of Mr. R. Channon.” She skims the first section of the editorial which explains how Dickie and Margot were gifted their country house, but pauses at the first two photographs beneath it. She smiles with satisfaction at the first one which shows the top of the demi-lune table that she painted by hand and then worried wasn’t going to meet Margot’s approval. The image beside it shows the stylish mirror topped Art Deco console table she installed beneath the portrait of the beautiful and tragic Miss Rosevear, flanked by two statues she acquired from Mr. Chilvers at the Portland Gallery. “A perfect balance of old and new.” she reads aloud from the caption below the photograph before allowing herself to release the pent-up breath she has been holding in her chest. Those few words consisting of twenty-six characters is enough to tell her that anything else she reads in Henry Tipping’s*** article will be sure to be favourable about her interior designs for the Channon’s Regency country house.

 

Looking across the gutter between the left-hand page and the right she reads, “in the capable hands of Miss Lettice Chetwynd, who has applied her tasteful Modern Classical Revival style.”

 

Lettice’s eyes stray to the large photograph of Dickie and Margot’s redecorated drawing room. She chuckles to herself, the action causing the corners of her mouth to curl up in a smile as she remembers her conversation with Margot in the week following the Country Life photo shoot at ‘Chi an Treth’. Margot complained bitterly about having to tidy the place up for Mr. Tipping and his crew, even though it was her housekeeper, Mrs. Trevethan, who really did the tidying up. Margot moaned about having to hide her novels like skeletons in the closet, and how Mr. Tipping tinkered around the rooms, moving small things like clocks and photos, whilst removing others for what he called photographic effect. Margot said that when it came to shifting Dickie’s pile of newspapers from the pouffe by the fireplace, his friendship with Mr. Tipping nearly came to an end. Gifted with a sense of drama, Lettice knew that Margot was over exaggerating this point, but she could imagine that having a photography crew traipsing through your newly decorated rooms would be somewhat of an inconvenience and more than a little irritating. Margot did however concede that the Country Life crew brought a magnificent array of flowers which they filled every conceivable space with when photographing, and then left behind for her pleasure upon their decampment.

 

“Miss Chetwynd’s treatment of the drawing room exemplifies a comfortable mixture of old and new furnishings to create a welcoming and contemporary room that is sympathetic to the original features.” Lettice reads. Dropping the pages onto her thighs, she smiles with unbridled delight at the complimentary way with which Mr. Tipping describes her interiors.

 

“Wait until Mater reads this,” she thinks smugly, remembering her request of the Country Life office to supply an advanced copy of the magazine to her parent’s home as well as her own once it was published. “Now she will have to take my interior decorating business seriously.”

 

As if on cue, the black and silver Bakelite telephone by her bedside begins to trill noisily. She looks at it, her eyes alive with excitement. Usually, it is Edith’s job to answer the telephone, one of her most hated duties in her position as Lettice’s maid. Lettice is amused by her hatred of ‘that infernal contraption’. However, today after reading what she has in the Country Life article about ‘Chi an Treth’ she feels magnanimous and picks up the receiver on the third shrill ring.

 

“Mayfair 432,” she answers with a happy lilt in her voice. A distant deep male voice speaks down the line. “Pappa! What an unexpected pleasure at this time of the morning. I would have thought you’d be out on estate business with Leslie at this time.” She smiles to herself and bites the inside of her lower lip in excitement and anticipation. “I do hope nothing is wrong, Pappa.” she adds cheekily. She listens. “Oh really? Did she? Whatever was the matter for Mamma to call you to her boudoir like that?” She listens again, her eyes crinkling at the corners in sheer delight as she listens, luxuriating in her moment of triumph. “Oh that!” She laughs feigning nonchalance as she curls the spiral cord of the telephone receiver around her left index finger. “You know Pappa, with all the excitement of preparing for Elizabeth’s**** up and coming wedding to the Duke of York and decorating Charles and Minnie Palmerston’s dining room, you know I had quite forgotten all about it.” She listens again. “Yes, yes, I had. I mean, it was so long ago when I decorated Dickie and Margot’s. You and Mamma did approve of me doing it considering that Dickie is the Marquess of Taunton’s son, didn’t you?” she asks teasingly. Her father’s voice, disembodied somewhere between London and Wiltshire booms bombastically down the line. “Well yes I can, Pappa. I’ll have to check my diary, but I think I could arrange to come down to Glynes at short notice,” She pauses. “Only that suits you, of course.” She listens again. “Yes, yes very well. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve booked a ticket which train I’ll be on.” There is more male burbling along the line. “Alright. Goodbye Pappa. I’ll see you soon.” She hangs up the phone.

 

There is a quiet knock at the bedroom door.

 

“Is everything alright, Miss?” Edith opens it and pops her head around.

 

“So much for a maid who doesn’t pry.” Lettice says with arched eyebrows, making Edith blush at the remark. “Yes, everything is fine, but,” She throws the comforter back and swivels herself around on the mattress, revealing her white lace brassier beneath her open bed jacket and her silk crepe de chine step ins as she stretches her legs out of the bed. “There has been a change of plans. I shall have to forego breakfast this morning. I need you to pack me an overnight valise, Edith. I’m off to Glynes for an evening stay. I just need to ring the Victoria Station booking office and arrange a ticket.”

 

“To Glynes, Miss!” Edith gasps. “Whatever for?”

 

Holding up the copy of Country Life, Lettice says, still with arched eyebrows, and a knowing, but not unfriendly smile. “I think you know only too well, Edith.”

 

*The Actors' Orphanage was started in 1896 and established as the Actors' Orphanage Fund in 1912. The fund continues but the orphanage closed in 1958. The charity was started in 1896 by "Kittie" Carson and Mrs Clement Scott. The first building was in Croydon. It was established as the Actors' Orphanage Fund in 1912. In 1915 the Orphanage moved to Langley Hall at Langley (was in Buckinghamshire - now in Berkshire). The orphanage was both a home and a school to approximately sixty children. At ages fifteen to seventeen pupils sat the School Leaving Certificate of Cambridge University and if ten subjects were taken, to Matriculation. Over the years many from the theatrical profession gave time and money to the running of the Orphanage. They also threw large garden parties in Regents Park with rides and entertainment from famous people in the theatrical profession to help raise funds. These events were highly patronised, drawing the biggest crowds between 1920 and 1925. Past presidents of the Orphanage included Sir Gerald du Maurier, Noël Coward, Laurence Olivier and Richard Attenborough.

 

**Country Life is a British weekly perfect-bound glossy magazine that is a quintessential English magazine founded in 1897, providing readers with a weekly dose of architecture, gardens and interiors. It was based in London at 110 Southwark Street until March 2016, when it became based in Farnborough, Hampshire. The frontispiece of each issue usually features a portrait photograph of a young woman of society, or, on occasion, a man of society.

 

***Henry Tipping (1855 – 1933) was a French-born British writer on country houses and gardens, garden designer in his own right, and Architectural Editor of the British periodical Country Life for seventeen years between 1907 and 1910 and 1916 and 1933. After his appointment to that position in 1907, he became recognised as one of the leading authorities on the history, architecture, furnishings and gardens of country houses in Britain. In 1927, he became a member of the first committee of the Gardens of England and Wales Scheme, later known as the National Gardens Scheme.

 

****Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, as she was known at the beginning of 1923 when this story is set, went on to become Queen of the United Kingdom and the Dominions from 1936 to 1952 as the wife of King George VI. Whilst still Duke of York, Prince Albert initially proposed to Elizabeth in 1921, but she turned him down, being "afraid never, never again to be free to think, speak and act as I feel I really ought to". He proposed again in 1922 after Elizabeth was part of his sister, Mary the Princess Royal’s, wedding party, but she refused him again. On Saturday, January 13th, 1923, Prince Albert went for a walk with Elizabeth at the Bowes-Lyon home at St Paul’s, Walden Bury and proposed for a third and final time. This time she said yes. The wedding took place on April 26, 1923 at Westminster Abbey.

 

This editorial from the pages of country life complete with photographs may look real to you, but if you look carefully at the elegantly appointed drawing room with its modish Art Deco furnishings you will find that they are made up with pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in the photographs in this article include:

 

On the coffee table sits a rounded bowl made from hand spun glass, which has been made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The ornamental glass bon-bon dish and other glass vases are also made from hand spun glass and were made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures, as are all the roses in the photographs.

 

The Statue of the nude Art Nouveau woman on the right-hand pedestal to the right at the back is based on a real statue and is made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. It has been hand painted by me.

 

The glass topped demilune table in the background is a hand made miniature artisan piece, which sadly is unsigned. On its surface, made of real glass are decanters of whiskey and port and a cranberry glass soda syphon made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering in England. The silver Regency tea caddy is made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland.

 

The wedding photo in the silver frame on the mantlepiece and the photos in frames on the demilune table behind the armchair are real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frame comes from Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers.

 

The Georgian style demilune table behind and to the right of the armchair is an artisan miniature from Lady Mile Miniatures in the United Kingdom. Painted white and then aged, it has been hand painted with a Georgian style design on its surface.

 

The copy of Country Life on the pouffe was made by me.

 

The eau-de-nil suite consisting of armchairs, sofa and pouffe are all made of excellent quality fabric, and are very well made, as is the coffee table with its small drawer beneath the tabletop. All these pieces were made as a set by high-end miniatures manufacturer Jiayi Miniatures.

 

The Regency gilt swan pedestals and round tables are made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq.

 

The fireplace is made of plaster, and comes from Kathleen Knight’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

 

The stylised Art Deco fire screen is made using thinly laser cut wood, made by Pat’s Miniatures in England.

 

The paintings around the ‘Chi an Treth’ drawing room in their gilded frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by V.H. Miniatures and Marie Makes Miniatures in the United Kingdom and geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series. The Geometrically patterned Art Deco carpet on the floor comes from a miniatures specialist store on E-Bay.

Departing Buchanan Bus Station in Glasgow is First Glasgow Alexander Dennis Enviro 400EV City bodied BYD electric double decker 38470 - LG72DZR in an overall advert for British-Supplements.

- Luncheon Karolin Stone -

 

Well, she was not my first choice but I thought she was really beautiful and got a lot of potential! ^^

 

Unfortunately she often had so many flaws which bothered me a lot: lips not filled well, wonky eyes, wild & crooked eyelashes...

 

That was the main reason not to get her. I know mine isn't flawless either but I think after all I got hold of a pretty nice Luncheon Karolin! I'm really happy with her and I'm going to upload some photos of her soon... 😊

   

Henschel 0-8-0 tank 'Graf Bismarck XVI' (Works No.25724 built in 1924) departs from Rinteln North with a 'Weserbergland' railway service for Stadthagen on Sunday 3rd July 1983. In 1973, the Class 'D600' Henschel moved into preservation from industrial service, latterly with Deutsche Texaco A.G. at Gelsenkirchen-Bismarck. Another move in 2008, found it moving to France with CITEV at Jarny (Compagnie Internationale des Trains Express à Vapeur). The Rinteln-Stadthagen railway was first opened in 1900 and the line's original loco shed and workshops are located at Rinteln, close to the River Weser. Passenger services along the private secondary railway ceased in 1965. Owned by Bückebergbahn Rinteln-Stadthagen GmbH has handled freight traffic on the line which has included coal from a mine at Obernkirchen, stone and silica sand, and in recent times, timber. Since 1973, heritage steam services have been offered by Dampfeisenbahn Weserbergland e.V. on just one Sunday of every month during the operating season using former DR 'Rekolok' 2-10-0 No.52 8038, supplemented by former DB 1960s vintage railbuses. Sadly, the 'Rekolok' was significantly damaged in a collision with a tractor on an ungated level crossing on 1st October 2023, and since then the railway has been unable to offer tourist services. Due to substantial costs being required to upgrade the line the owning company of the railway has ceased its operations, consequently with no freight or heritage rail services having ran since 30th April 2024. The line climbed from the plain at Rinteln and took the route through the Steinberger Pass and northern edge of the Bückeberg Ridge, before descending into Stadthagen, a distance of just over 20km.

 

© Gordon Edgar - All rights reserved. Please do not use my images without my explicit permission

beauty portrait

dream factory studio, san francisco

silver gelatin print

much thanks everyone for your kind comments, favs and visits!

View On White

stream on black

 

www.fluidr.com/photos/21491133@N02

www.fluidr.com/photos//21491133@N02/3486430785

 

If you like this study, please take a look at "jenilyn"

www.flickr.com/photos/21491133@N02/3212497313/in/set-7215...

  

It is the possibilities that excites me about photography.

Regardless of the subject matter, the possibility to discover something creative or unique inspires me to no end.

I believe that regardless of the subject matter, landscape, people or other studies

the creative potentials are the same.

It is very exciting to live the moment discovering the possibilities.

 

*my apologies for losing the galleries that i was honored to have been part of being in.

flickr caused their deletion when they moderated my stream.

11/1/10 thank you everyone! i have had the privilege to be included in 85 galleries

since posting!

 

The ease of technology that has made showing my work so much more easily accessible these days with the use

of my iphone and apple macbook pro! My photography experience and the technology has greatly been intwine into the my camera life. I am really looking forward to getting an ipad to supplement presenting my work to clients soon!

 

also from the bottom of my heart... thank you for allowing me the opportunity to reach my first 1,000,000 visits mark here on my flickr stream! yes it is but a number but it also a tiny goal that my friends here have afford for me by your much appreciated vibe, presence & visits!

  

To my model Jessica! Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to create above and beyond what I able to do with my limited means....=)

Berninabahn observation coaches are sometimes used within those trains to give tourists the option for a small supplement. For me this is the classic view of the line

I've gone for a little 'rewind' here with this shot of new to Mainline B6LE Wright Crusader pictured in St Budeaux square working back from Saltash to Plymouth on what was back then the old 'Red Line' route 1 & 2.

I remembered when this one turned up from South Yorkshire, it still had the LEDs programmed to destinations from up North!

We had all of the N-BKY batch here at Plymouth at one point along with N144BWG & M918MRW, they supplemented the native B6BLEs W-PAF batch on the then colour branded routes around Plymouth.

B. Ruppes Inc is a health supplement store in historic Barelas. Since it's inception at the turn of the century, B. Ruppes Inc has evolved over the years from at one time a full-service pharmacy to it's current state of selling over the counter medicine, traditional Mexican remedies, herbs, vitamins/supplements, and traditional Mexican medicine supplies and needs.

 

This mural in their parking lot and is a must to see.

 

Barelas, Albuquerque, Bernalillo County, NM

Don't forget to take your daily recommended dose of iron supplements.

Seen in Buchanan Bus Station is First Glasgow Alexander Dennis Enviro 400 City EV 38444 - LG22AVV in an overall advert for "British Supplements". One of eight First Glasgow vehicles to be treated.

www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-formby-2.htm

  

Formby

North west coast, between Liverpool and Southport

  

Stunning coastline with large areas of beaches, sand dunes and pine woods

  

Don't miss

Stunning stretch of unspoilt coastline

Long, sandy beaches and attractive pine woods

Search for 5,000-year-old red deer footprints on the beach

You may catch a glimpse of a rare red squirrel

  

Making the most of your day

Environmental artwork on the theme of 'changing coastlines'.

  

Pine Woods

  

Enjoy a stroll around the peaceful pine woodlands and look out for the endangered red squirrel. The woods here are one of seventeen red squirrel reserves in northern England; the reds are attracted by the large numbers of conifers, as they feed on the ripe pine cones.

  

Beach

  

Wide open skies and an expanse of space make the beach at Formby a fantastic get-away from hectic urban life. Erosion of the sand has revealed footprints from animals and humans dating back to the late Neolithic/early Bronze Age, about 3500 to 7000 years ago.

  

Asparagus fields

  

The asparagus grown among the sand dunes at Formby is world-famous. In the 1930s it was so popular that it was served to passengers on the luxury liners leaving from Liverpool. Work is currently underway to develop an 'asparagus trail', which will lead visitors through the heart of this historic landscape

  

Dunes (through coastal path route)

  

These beautiful dunes form a part of one of the largest areas of dune habitat within the UK and provide an excellent home for many rare and endangered species such as the Natterjack Toad and the Northern Dune Tiger Beetle. They are under constant threat from erosion, however, and the dunes move inland at a rate of approximately four metres a year.

  

Get in touch

Victoria Road

Freshfield

Formby

Liverpool L37 1LJ

 

01704 878591 (General enquiries)

01704 874949 (Learning and educational enquiries)

 

Email: formby@nationaltrust.org.uk

  

Facilities

 

Important Note

WCs close at 5.30pm in summer, 4pm in winter. Coach parking is restricted and must be booked

  

WCs

At the roadside near to Victoria Road entrance. Open 9am to 5.30pm in summer, closes 4pm in winter. Closed Christmas day

  

Families & children

Baby-changing facilities in the women's and men's WCs

  

Dogs

Dogs welcome, but please keep pets under close control at all times and on a lead in the vicinity of the squirrel walk. Please clear up after your pet and take any mess home with you.

  

Picnic areas

There are three picnic areas close to Victoria Road. The picnic area to the south of Victoria Road is a dog-free area.

  

Eating and shopping

Ice cream van in car park in suitable weather. Local shops in Formby village centre.

  

Public houses

Several pubs in local area.

  

Information for visitors

Welcome leaflet and various Sefton Natural Coast walking, cycling and event guides are all available from the car park entrance kiosk.

  

Audio guide

Audio guide available from the car park entrance kiosk, please contact us for more information.

  

Learning

Formby is a unique site for environmental education with a superb range of study options for woodland, beach and dune habitats.

 

We have a variety of guided and self-guided tours and learning activities on offer, all of which are designed to meet National Curriculum requirements.

 

Booking is essential and all groups must book at least two weeks in advance. Bookings and enquiries can be made by telephoning 01704 874949.

  

Getting there

 

Car-free travel highlight

Easily accessible by public transport, Freshfield train station is ½ mile easy walk from the entrance to Formby along pavements.

 

For the more energetic, Sefton Coastal Path runs through Formby

  

By foot

Sefton Coastal Path runs from Crosby in the south to Crossens (north of Southport) in the north and cuts right through the property. There are rail stations along the route with various points of entry.

  

By bike

National Cycle Route 62 runs within 3 miles of the property at Ainsdale, from here you can follow on-road routes to Formby. Please note, these roads can be busy at times and access to the property is via a busy dual carriageway.

 

For more information visit Sustrans.

  

By bus

Arriva 48A, Southport to Formby, frequent service. Alight at Cross Green, then 5 minute walk to Formby.

 

Cumfy Coaches 160/1/4, Formby station to Freshfield station. Alight end of Harrington Road/Victoria Road, then 10 minute walk to Formby.

 

For more information visit traveline.

  

By train

Frequent services from Liverpool and Southport stations to Freshfield station, then ½ mile walk, along pavements, to the entrance of Formby, or 1 mile to Formby beach.

 

For more information visit Transport Direct .

  

By road

M62 then M57, or M6 then M58. Follow signs for Southport and central attractions (A565), heading north on the dual carriageway. Continue straight over the 1st roundabout (ignoring the sign for Formby). At the traffic lights, which are at a crossroads, take a left into Formby and follow the National Trust brown signs.

 

From Southport follow the A565, head south on the dual carriageway, turn right at the BP roundabout and then pick up National Trust signs.

  

Ordnance Survey maps

Landranger Liverpool 108

Explorer Southport and Chorley 285

  

Access

 

Mobility information

  

Parking

Designated accessible parking spaces on the roadside at Victoria Road. Parking is within 75 metres of WCs.

  

WC

One accessible WC with RADAR lock. Key is available from the entrance kiosk during normal opening times.

  

Pathways and open space

Access to the beach is over dunes, which are soft under foot and liable to change in certain weather conditions. Some short sections of paths with a gradient of 1:8. For more information please visit the Sefton Coastal Path website.

  

All-ability trails

There is an all-ability trail suitable for wheelchairs and pushchairs, which runs through the woodland and asparagus fields.

  

Seating, rest points and shelter

Benches positioned along Sefton Coastal Path, south of Victoria Road. Resting points on Squirrel Walk and Cornerstone Walk.

  

Visual information

 

Braille guide available at entrance kiosk.

  

Sensory highlights

 

Listsen out for the wind in pine trees, the cry of sea birds and the roar of the tide. Soak in the remote atmosphere and enjoy the sense of being in a wide, open space.

  

Red squirrel population

  

Formby red squirrels comeback continues!

Formby is well known as a special place to see red squirrels though numbers fell drastically during 2008 due to an outbreak of squirrel pox virus. Two years on and recovery seems to be well on the way. Signs of red squirrels feeding are widespread in the pine woods, reports of sightings in local gardens are coming in daily and visitors are excited by the increasing frequency of sightings during their woodland walks. Indeed we anticipate the results of Autumn monitoring will show that red squirrel population has recovered to over 50% of the pre squirrel pox level.

The National Trust Formby is at the heart of the Sefton Coast woodlands where a co-ordinated forest plan has been implemented since 2003 to improve the red squirrels habitat. The coastal woodlands provide an ample source of pine cones and seeds which are readily exploited by the red squirrels. But grey squirrels appear in the neighbouring residential areas each year and the National Trust is keen not to attract greys into the red squirrels woodland stronghold. For this reason, feeding of nuts and other food supplements to the red squirrels was abandoned. National Trust wardens want to prevent contact between red and grey squirrels to prevent risk of disease transmission.

If you’re planning a visit to National Trust Formby now, you have a much better chance of seeing a red squirrel than 12 months ago; but expect a different experience – bring your binoculars and follow our woodland trails to track down squirrels feeding in the tree tops. The reds spend much time daily, feeding on natural foods like pine cones which are much better for them than peanuts on the ground!

Formby Red Squirrel Survivors Project

The success of National Trust on-line gift sales in the 2007 Christmas catalogue – which were specifically for red squirrel conservation at Formby – is helping to support vital research along with funding from the Natural Environment Research Council.

In October 2009 pioneering new research into the squirrel pox virus started at Formby. The study, led by researchers at the University of Liverpool, is looking at exactly how the reds become infected by the virus, and whether any of them have survived exposure to squirrel pox virus. The project hopes to provide a better understanding of how an outbreak of squirrelpox develops and what can be done to break the links that allow it to spread.

Professor Mike Begon from the University of Liverpool, said:

'We are working to understand the dynamics of the squirrelpox virus and what might halt its spread. We are starting to see evidence of recovery in the red squirrel population but it is still important that we prevent contact between red squirrels and the greys that carry the virus. We are hopeful that our research will provide us with the knowledge we need to ensure the long term survival of red squirrels across the UK.'

For further information please call the National Trust Formby office on 01704 878591 or e-mail formby@nationaltrust.org.uk

  

Oostenburgergracht 13/05/2023 12h55

Street art Frankey gives the city small inconspicuous surprises. Sometimes quite large, sometimes very small. Every week a photo with one of his recent works appears in the supplement to the newspaper Het Parool. A great opportunity to take a closer look at his work. Sometimes you have to search to find it and sometimes it is already gone.

Restaurant Coulisse on the Oostenburgergracht has received a Michelin star for their refined cuisine. Street art Frankey has mounted this star on the facade in a playful way. He congratulates the restaurant.

 

COULISSE

Oostenburgergracht

Amsterdam Centrum (NL)

May 2023 (Het Parool, 13/05/2023)

Close-up

 

Street Art Frankey

Street Art Frankey (pseudonym of Frank de Ruwe) is a Dutch artist who wants to positively influence the street scene with relatively small and often inconspicuous works of art.

He grew up in Nijmegen, father was an inventor at Philips Netherlands. He studied at Delft University of Technology (Industrial design). In daily life director of and working for design collective Natwerk. In Amsterdam, many of his works in the street art category can be found on buildings, streets and bridges, often in addition to existing building elements. He himself about his work;

"I want to push boundaries. Art has no boundaries, that's why I like it so much."

In 2019, a special page has been dedicated to his art in Het Parool for a number of years; first he took care of that section himself, later he had to leave that work to others because of busy work. A little later his work Eberhard van der Laan appeared above the entrance of Paradiso.

One of the works that inspired him is the Boomzagertje in the Leidsebosje, a work by an as yet unknown artist.

[ Wikipedia ]

 

Instagram | Streetart Frankey

Our heat pump quit working recently, so we turned on our supplemental heat source. While we know it's actually a 50-year-old electric wall heater, here's a photo of it from Dot's point of view.

Delivered in 2015 to supplement the twenty-three Enviro 200's delivered to Hastings in 2012 to upgrade the 'ARROWS' service, Stagecoach South East 37327 YY15 OWR is seen here departing from Hastings Station whilst unusually working route 99. Tuesday 23rd August 2016.

 

ADL E20D - ADL Enviro 200

I realize we’re halfway through the music festival season so I should have posted this sooner but here in Chicago where I’m from, we’re gearing up for Pitchfork Music Festival to start tomorrow and in less than a month Lollapooza will also be happening. This is my third summer shooting music festivals including Pitchfork Music Festival, Lollapalooza, Hideout Block Party, and Coachella. I wish someone had told me a few things three years ago to help prepare me. I thought I’d share the love.

 

First, a disclaimer….you know that part in Say Anything where John Cusack/Lloyd Dobler proclaims: “I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.” Well, I sort of loved him for that even more than when he was holding a large boombox over his head. That said, I’m going to recommend some products here not because I want to encourage materialism and consumerism but because these are the things that have worked for me. The reality is that there are a lot of products out there that are not well made or will let you down and ultimately waste your hard earned cash. As most of us are just scraping by and not making $1000 a photo, very few of us can afford to waste our money on stuff that doesn’t work or is poorly made and will cost us a great deal more overall.

 

Some obvious things first:

 

1.Unless you are meticulous and not scatter brained in the least, you will need some extras of everything. I recommend bringing extra lens caps, lens cleaning cloths, memory cards, batteries, and a couple extra pairs of ear plugs. You are going to be exposing your ears to some really massive amounts of input. I don’t find the foamy earplugs to be very helpful for me. First, it distorts the music so that it feels like you are sort of just listening under water. Second, it’s usually not enough protection when you are up against huge amps. I highly recommend: earlove.net/. They are worth the extra cost, trust me!

2.You know those pseudo benches in a lot of larger photopits where you can take a rest, especially if the stage/band you’re shooting is running behind schedule? You’re going to really want to do it but do NOT set your bag down while you’re shooting unless everything of any value is around your neck. Fans steal bags and (I hate to say it) other photographers steal bags. I know your bag is heavy and, in this case, my only recommendation is this: suck it up! I’m so sorry but no amount of temporary shoulder relief is worth thousands of dollars. Also, I recommend using these Chrome Messenger backpack bags: www.chromebagsstore.com/messenger-packs-ranchero.html Yes, it’s a bag that costs nearly $200 after taxes, shipping, etc. but the good news is that you will never have to buy another bag again. I cannot tell you how much I’ve pretty much beat the heck out of mine and there are no signs of wear and tear whatsoever. It has two nice shoulder pads, a cell phone holster, and is extremely waterproof. Basically, it’s worth the investment. Did I mention you’ll never have to buy another bag to haul all your stuff around again? That’s important.

3.Drink water, not beer. Oh wouldn’t the beer just take the edge off? Make you feel relaxed, etc.? Don’t do it!!! Take all the money you would have spent on overpriced festival beer throughout the weekend and put it aside. When you’re finally finished with all photoediting on that Sunday night or Monday morning, buy yourself a nice bottle of champagne or Belgian and drink up to celebrate surviving. Also, I highly recommend bringing your own more durable water bottle. Most music festivals have stopped giving out free water to press OR they will have one tent set up that’s destined to be far away from whatever bands you are assigned in the media area which is not very helpful. However, quite a few festivals have fountains or opportunities for free water of some sort. I also recommend supplementing your water with electrolytes. This one works quite well: www.rei.com/product/779683. Also, don’t forget your Ibuprofen/Aspirin and vitamins!

4.Sorry to be gross, but you should bring some tissue or toilet paper and a little bottle of hand sanitizer. You should not count on the porta potties to have these things in full supply, though I’ve been happily surprised the last couple of festivals I’ve gone to.

5.Have you ever sat around and wondered how China became such a national super power? It’s probably because of this: www.tigerbalm.com/. Buy yourself a jar of it and rub it into your shoulders, neck, and any other part of your body that aches every single night. Trust me, you’ll feel so much better the next day. It stings a little and there’s an after effect that goes on as it sinks into your muscle tissue that might actually hurt a bit but let it work it’s magic.

6.You need suncreen (duh!) I am so pale I’m ghostly. If I’m out in the sun for even a half hour without sunscreen, I burn. That said, I highly recommend this Kiss My Face spray SPF30 product: kissmyfacewebstore.com/detail/KMF+1800403 You can pick it up at some Whole Foods but, because it’s a natural product, it isn’t usually available commonly at most grocery or convenience stores in the US, which means you might end up having to order it online. Why I love this product is simple…it works! Also, it is a lot less greasy, you can spray it on your back (for your facial areas, spray it on your hands then rub on your face.) and you should be able to get away with spraying it on once in the morning before you leave and not having to worry about re-spraying for the rest of the day. That’s really important because the last thing you’ll be thinking about when you’re photographing beautiful Karen O doing a backbend is re-applying your sunscreen, trust me. On occasion, I have gotten minorly burned around my shoulder straps as the suncreen has rubbed off in those areas. However, I burn excessively easily so if you’re like 99% of the rest of the population, you don’t have to be worried.

7. If it’s going to be especially sunny, consider bringing a small compact umbrella to shield you while you’re waiting in the photopit or photopit line. ( I learned that one from excessively wise and experienced Robert Loerzel: www.flickr.com/photos/robertloerzel/ who graciously held one over our heads during the two hour wait for Iggy Pop when we were suffering through Amy Winehouse at Lolla 2007)

8.I recommend you start every day of the festival by having a large mocha with an extra shot of espresso and one-two bagels (depending on your metabolism.) You want a complex carbohydrate that your body is going to have to break down over time through the course of the day. Make sure to obviously give yourself enough time in the bathroom after eating before taking off to minimize porta potty usage..besides, you don’t have time to go to the bathroom…you have bands to shoot! For quick sugar intake when you’re running on low, pack a couple of energy or granola bars. Plan on eating more after you’re done and waiting for your 4,000 photos to transfer from your memory card to your hard drive. Did I mention to make sure to take your vitamins?

9.If you are traveling to this music festival, I would recommend the following portable external drive: Smartdisk 160GB FireWire Portable Hard Drive …it worked very well for me when I went to Coachella. Don’t forget to bring your battery charger!

10. As Margarita Gonzalez stated below, make sure you wear your most comfortable pair of shoes! As Paige K. Parsons below added: Remember there's a BIG difference between shoes that are comfortable to stand in for eight hours vs shoes that are comfortable to walk four miles in. Most likely you will need the latter at a festival.

11.)Also by Paige K. Parsons: www.flickr.com/photos/paigekparsons/ Know not just the distances between stages, but the time it takes to move between them with large crowds of people about. You've got to plan your schedule with plenty of tolerances for travel.

12.)Also by Paige K. Parsons: www.flickr.com/photos/paigekparsons/ Scope out *all* the stages early. Talk with the security guys and/or festival coordinators and confirm which side has access to the photopit. Often it's different from stage to stage, sometimes it's different than you were told in your media info. If you arrive on the wrong side it can take an entire song to get from one side to the other if the crowd is large.

13.If you are lucky enough to have “scored” your pass without actually knowing anything about photography because your dad’s a CEO of a company sponsoring the festival or something, do us all a favor and actually try to learn as much as you can on your own. There are photographers who would give up alot for this opportunity so take it as a serious gift. Besides, the last thing I want to hear in the pit five minute before Daft Punk take the stage is “Hey, you have the same camera as me! Can you teach me how to use mine?” And yes, that actually did happen to me at Lolla 2007.

   

Now, some non-obvious things…..

  

1.Camera gear recommendations: I can only recommend what I know and I’m a Canon vs. Nikon user..that doesn’t mean Nikon is inferior at all, though! I use the 5dMkII with the Canon IS 2.8 70-200mm lens most often during music festivals. If this lens is too expensive, consider renting one, especially if you are planning on photographing bands you may never have the opportunity to photograph again (i.e. Leonard Cohen.) I should warn that this lens is excessively heavy. I actually prepared myself after its purchase by lifting weights while jogging on the treadmill. The Canon 15mm fisheye lens is also great for smaller stages and crowd shots. Paige K. Parsons has some great fisheye crowd shots with her Nikon D700 as well. Here’s a good example: www.flickr.com/photos/paigekparsons/3620173399/ If possible, bring an extra base as backup. Nikon recommendations by NickD: www.flickr.com/photos/_nickd/ : As nikon goes i'd recommend a d300 or (if you want full-frame) d700 with a 70-200 f/2.8 vr if you can get it, and a 50 f/1.4 for smaller intimate venues.

2.We’re unfortunately in a troublesome age in terms of photographer’s rights and what that means is that you may not be given full information about what restrictions bands are giving until the day of, even if you received a press release from the festival organizers detailing these restrictions…it doesn’t matter. Artists/musicians change their minds at the last minute about photography and unfortunately festival organizers don’t consider the idea that some photogs have actually made a huge financial investment to shoot that particular band on the basis that they’d *gasp* be allowed to. (Such was the case last year when Kanye West decided on the same day of his performance he wouldn’t allow photography from the pit even though the concert was taking place in his own city and he had allowed it previously at Lolla.) In addition, some bands/musicians may limit the photopit to only Wire service photographers. However, the trend I have seen (with Pearl Jam and Radiohead specifically) is to not allow any Wire service photographers into the pits. Another thing I have seen is a band decided to only let his buddy, a barely competent photographer, to shoot and bars every other photographer. It completely sucks and it’s extremely difficult to get a good shot from the crowd. The only thing you can do to prepare yourself for this is to read all press information and check in at the media tent of the festival every single day.

3.If you absolutely have to sign a contract that takes away all your copyrights, sign and date it so that you can argue it was signed under duress. Also, give your publication the exact number of photos requested and keep the others private/friends only if you use them. If you are not assigned that band and do not have to take photos but want to, strongly consider not signing because your rights as a photographer are way more important, trust me.

4.Some festivals, particularly Lollapalooza have “caps” on their photopits. In other words, they won’t allow past a certain number (in Lolla’s case, 50) of photographers to be in the pit. What that means is, for the larger bands, make sure to keep an eye on the pit and make practical decisions about time management. It’s a lot better to be #3 in a photopit for a larger band and miss out on shooting a smaller band you can easily photograph again than to shoot the smaller band, be #51 and not get into the pit for the larger band. Also, be aware for that more aggressive bands where there is an issue with crowd control, the festival could potentially lower the amount of photographers they are going to allow in the pit. Arrive extra early if you are assigned these bands. By extra early, I mean, check in atleast 2 hours in advance. Yes, I’m serious.

5.Make a special effort to photograph bands that typically play in darker conditions. (Pretty much every band I love fits this description.) If you know this may only be the only time you’ll ever be able to shoot this band without them being behind a heavy gush of smoke playing in what looks like the pit of despair, go for it! Also, make an extra effort to photograph international bands you know won’t come around very often.

6.If you’re like me, your deadlines are pretty immediate and you have to bike home like mad and start photo-editing as soon as possible so that you’re up until 4am or 5am working on your assignment. You are bound to grow really tired doing this and be all sleepy. What usually helps me stay up is re-watching the ending of Twin Peaks: (If you can fall asleep right after watching this, you’re a much braver soul than I am!) www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZ0qHLAsS2w

7.Feel free to run like mad and shoot as many bands as your body and time will allow. If you have limited time to get across a crowded park and you are exhausted with way less adrenalin than you’d expected, it might be helpful to use a visualization technique. Usually, I picture a younger version of Hannibal Lecter in a sweaty Kings of Leon shirt running after me with a vicious look in his eyes…that often does the trick! However, with age I am realizing more and more it’s also important to listen to your body. Take rest breaks when possible and keep hydrated. Have I mentioned vitamins yet? ;)

8.Make friends! It is great to have a few people you can trust to update you when you are across the field to know how fast a photopit line is growing or if a band cancels or is running late. Texting is amazing in these cases and make sure to return the favor to your friend as well. In this age of concert photography when we are slowly losing our rights, it’s important to really stick together with the people who won’t let you down. I've been lucky to have a few good friends on my side at music festivals, like Sei Jin who texted me when he saw Tim Harrington of Les Savy Fav was cutting hair at last year's Pitchfork Music Festival.

9.Play nice! Be fair! Everyone knows of that 300 pound behemoth (usually male, sorry men!) that always cuts everyone off in line and tends to have about 42 elbows while in the photopit. Shooting a festival with strict deadlines is stressful enough without these types of people but you’re bound to run into a couple. Feel free to be extra snarky when they hit on you later. I usually find, “I don’t have a name” does the trick.

10.Be nice to your security guards! They are working long hours in the hot sun for probably about as much pay as you are. The ones that seem the strictest are also the ones most on the ball that are going to end up protecting you if the fans get crazy and out of control.

11.Have you ever been at a music festival when it started to rain? I’ll exercise the words of legendary author Douglas Adams with this one: Don’t Panic! Especially if you have a waterproof bag! It’s good to keep some heavy duty plastic bags to wrap around your camera base and the contacts with the lens when this happens. Just exercise good common sense…shoot as little as possible in these cases in the rain with some heavier duty plastic bags wrapped around your camera then put your camera back safely in your bag. This is one reason, however, that I would recommend buying camera equipments with warranties. I usually request, “I would like the kind of warranty where I could basically go fishing with my camera and as long as I can pull it out of the water and return it, it will be replaced.” That said, I treat my camera bases and lenses with huge amounts of respect and don’t do anything stupid but it’s great when you don’t have that sense of anxiety over a freak accident or storm looming over you. Also, I know there are a lot of rain gear protections out on the market…this is one thing I have yet to try so if someone has a good recommendation, feel free to put that in the comments section.

12. Don’t forget to shoot the drummer! They really like it when you remember them! ☺

 

Above: the drummer for Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti, Aaron Sperske, at Coachella 2009.

 

www.myspace.com/arielpink

 

Vitamins offer a variety of health advantages. Vitamins can aid in addressing your deficiencies in vitamins. They boost your digestion system, immune system and also cell growth. It improves your energy levels and improves your focus.

 

Get the vitamin deficiencies in your diet

 

A lot of people suffer from nutritional deficiencies due to poor diet. Multivitamins can be taken by people who are deficient in minerals or vitamins. Multivitamins are beneficial for children, pregnant women or anyone taking treatment to meet vitamin requirements. Some people are very picky about foods, so they receive benefits from vitamins.

 

Boost your energy level

 

Many liquid vitamins and chewings are available in the marketplace to immediately increase the energy level of your body. Vitamins that aren't soluble in water don't stay within your body for long. Your body needs fresh vitamins to stay active.

 

Supplements that include Vitamin B6, B12, and folic acids can boost your energy level through direct diluting of blood vessels. Vitamin B and Vitamin C dissolve easily in water and are later absorbed into bloodstreams to ease symptoms. The excess vitamins are extracted through urine.

 

Concentrate more

 

Vitamin B can be a problem if you have difficulty focusing and easily distracted. Vitamin B3, Vitamin B9 and Vitamin B12 will assist you in focusing and staying focused better. Vitamin B3 and Vitamin B9 increase your cognitive capacity as well as your learning capacity and productivity. It also helps you focus and concentrate better. dailylifesupplements.com/

Only large, human, randomized placebo-controlled trials in our data scrape – wherever possible. No animal trials. No cell studies.

 

We looked at the abstracts of over 1500 studies on PubMed (run by US National Library Of Medicine) and Cochrane.org (which hosts meta-studies of scientific research). It took us several months to seek out the evidence – or lack of.

 

sources

www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/

www.cochrane.org/

 

interactive version

www.informationisbeautiful.net/play/snake-oil-supplements/

 

data

spreadsheets.google.com/ccc?key=0Aqe2P9sYhZ2ndFRKaU1FaWVv...

 

more detail on the method and image

www.informationisbeautiful.net/2010/snakeoil-scientific-e...

  

Haarlemmerstraat 23/02/2022 12h26

Street art Frankey gives the city small inconspicuous surprises. Sometimes quite large, sometimes very small. Every week a photo with one of his recent works appears in the supplement to the newspaper Het Parool. A great opportunity to take a closer look at his work. Sometimes you have to search to find it and sometimes it is already gone.

Barney of the Simpson found his spot on top of a signe of a wine bar on the Haarlemmerstraat.

 

BARNEY (THE SIMPSONS)

Haarlemmerstraat, Amsterdam Centrum

February 2022 (Het Parool, 20/02/2022)

 

Streetart Frankey

Streetart Frankey (pseudonym of Frank de Ruwe) is a Dutch artist who wants to positively influence the street scene with relatively small and often inconspicuous works of art.

He grew up in Nijmegen, father was an inventor at Philips Netherlands. He studied at Delft University of Technology (Industrial design). In daily life director of and working for design collective Natwerk. In Amsterdam, many of his works in the street art category can be found on buildings, streets and bridges, often in addition to existing building elements. He himself about his work;

"I want to push boundaries. Art has no boundaries, that's why I like it so much."

In 2019, a special page has been dedicated to his art in Het Parool for a number of years; first he took care of that section himself, later he had to leave that work to others because of busy work. A little later his work Eberhard van der Laan appeared above the entrance of Paradiso.

One of the works that inspired him is the Boomzagertje in the Leidsebosje, a work by an as yet unknown artist.

[ Wikipedia ]

 

Instagram | Streetart Frankey

Ferrari Dino 308GT4 (1973-80) Engine 2926cc V8 Tr QOC Production 2826

Registration Number YNU 113 S (Nottingham)

FERRARI SET

www.flickr.com/photos/45676495@N05/sets/72157623665054999...

 

The Dino 308 GT4 was introduced in 1973 and supplemented by the 208 GT4 in 1975. The cars were sold with Dino badging (continuing the Dino brand to differentiate non-V12 Ferrari) until May 1976, when they received Ferrari badging

The GT4 was a ground breaking model for Ferrari in several ways: it was the first production Ferrari to feature the mid-engined V8 layout, and was the first production Ferrari with Bertone (rather than Pininfarina) designed bodywork. The Marcello Gandini styling featured angular lines entirely different from its curvaceous 2-seater brother, the Dino 246, and was controversial at the time. The chassis was a tubular spaceframe based on the Dino 246, but was stretched for a longer wheelbase making room for a second set of seats, Nicki Lauda had a hand in the chassis set up

 

The 3.0 L (2927 cc) V8 was mounted transversally integrally joined with the 5-speed transaxle gearbox The engine had an aluminium alloy block and heads, 16-valves and dual overhead camshafts driven by toothed belts; it produced 255 hp in the European version reduced to 240bhp for North America

The 308 GT4 debuted at the 1973 Paris Motor Show, sporting a Dino badged, the cars finally gained the prancing horse in 1978 during a rebadging in an attempt to boost sales. There were two series of GT4; the earlier cars featured a twin distributor engine and foglamps mounted in the front valance. Later cars had a single distributor engine, with foglamps mounted behind the front grille.

 

Diolch am 97,768,791 o olygiadau gwych, mae pob un ohonynt yn cael eu gwerthfawrogi'n fawr.

 

Thanks for 97,768,791 amazing views, every one is greatly appreciated.

 

Shot 10.09.2022, at Statfold Barn Railway, near Tamworth, Staffordshire REF 164-046

 

www.pinterest.co.uk/johnseven47/works-of-unquestionable-g...

The 1860’s were a boom time of naval construction. The first ironclad battleships had amply demonstrated that the reign of the old wooden ship of the line was at an end. Such ships were extremely vulnerable to the new technology of high explosive shells, giving ships that were actually armoured to withstand such weapons a huge advantage. As a result, the world’s naval powers were keen to dispose of their now useless fleets, replacing them with ironclads as fast as they could.

 

Nowhere was this boom of shipbuilding greater than the Old Perceptan Empire. Ever since the Avalonian Continental and Western Holy Wars of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, where the navies of its rivals had been practically annihilated, Perceptum had maintained a massive margin of global naval supremacy for half a century by the virtue of being able to supplement its massive number of warships faster than its rivals could build new navies. But with the advent of the ironclad, this vast Armada of wooden sailing ships had been rendered obsolete at a stroke. A similar thing was happening in the navies of its geopolitical enemies, who were capitalizing on the opportunity to finally catch up. Having built its hegemony through the use of its navy, and none to eager to lose the control of the sea which its economy depended upon, the Imperial Government authorized one of the biggest construction programmes in history to replace its fleet with modern ironclad warships. Scores of the grand old wooden ships were sold and scrapped, with only the most modern preserved for conversion that turned them into comparatively ugly hunks of steel. Moreover, Imperial shipyards worked overtime to build entirely new ships with iron framed hulls; ships like the mighty Forza. The great majority of these ships were armed in the traditional broadside manner, before this type was ultimately superseded by ships with central battery and turret armaments.

 

When laid down in 1866, the Lorica and her class were intended to be the last, and grandest, of the Imperial Navy’s broadside battleships. In practice, conversion works on older ships and the construction of other broadsiders continued alongside their building until 1870, so it’s unclear which ship was THE last of the old way of fighting, but the Loricas were the last class of them to be ordered. For the Marina Imperiale, she was the embodiment of the sendoff, with some of the older men in the officer corps shedding tears over the passing of an age. They were the only class of broadside ironclad to possess more than a single gundeck, and although only the lower of the two benefitted from the thickest armour (8in of wrought iron backed by 20in of teak) their height allowed them to ship no less than fifty-six guns. As grand as this may seem, the arrangement caused several problems. The shear weight of all those guns threatened stability, and with so many weapons on two decks, it would be impossible to equip each gun with its own armoured ammunition hoist. This forced the guncrews to share hoists and get creative with how they handled the shot and powder... which would obviously prove hazardous in battle. The magazines were correspondingly huge, and although protected by relatively thick armour for a ship of the type, it was insufficient against the increasingly large guns mounted by central battery and turret ironclads. The only real strength they had was the mobility that resulted from their length to width ratio, but maneuvering such top-heavy iron sailing ships proved notoriously hazardous.

 

As can be expected, the Eight Years War was not kind to them. The ships performed admirably despite their age, their massive batteries of updated guns proving useful in calm seas and coastal battles where they proved their worth in guarding the Empire’s ports from attack. And unlike most other broadsiders, their entire hull was armoured with wrought iron ranging between four and eight inches, which allowed them to tank hits from smaller guns. Their relative agility even allowed them to dodge torpedoes while other, less nimble ships foundered. But whenever they were dragged too far out to sea, predictable problems arose. Their instability, worsened by the even heavier new rifled gun battery, caused more than one of them to sink in bad weather, in particularly fast turns or due to uncontrolled flooding in battle. With such a tendency to roll so heavily, the lower gun deck (which housed all the 8in guns, as opposed to the 4 and 6in rifles on the upper deck) would be subject to flooding should the hatches be opened in rough seas. Worse yet was the damage inflicted by the more modern ships the Empire was facing; the big-gun ships favoured by the Order of Achatius and her Allies found no problem with overmatching the Lorica’s armour, even from range. Once penetrated, the ships citadel and vulnerable ammunition stores were wide open to destruction.

 

Several of them did, however, survive the War. Wartime construction eventually caught up, allowing the the Loricas to be replaced on the front line by newer, tougher ships that moved the old broadsiders to relatively safe port defense and reserve posts. After the war, the Perceptan navy diligently reorganized itself and, strapped for cash, decided to sell many of its obsolescent ships off to the highest foreign bidders. At least one Lorica found its way into the Royal Pyu Navy, while another became flagship to a short-lived but famous pirate of the Chornslad Alliance. After superseding their value as combatants, they would serve for the rest of their days as depot ships, coal hulks and training vessels... an ignominious end to the era of the sailing battleship.

5.75x5.75" handmade collage.

From Gary Istok:

 

All continental EU 210 to 213 empty boxes were shipped to the UK in 1963. Since UK/Australia didn't switch over to the Kliklok boxes like EU did, they continued selling the 210 to 213 sets in 1963. British LEGO Ltd. used the leftover 210 boxes, and put a sticker over the ends of them as 509 Slimbricks packs starting in 1964

This is a new Press and Journal Supplement to commemorate Aberdeen winning the European Cup Winners Cup on the 11th May 1983. The magazine shows captain Willie Miller lifting the trophy. Famously the "Dons" beat Real Madrid 2 - 1 after extra time, they are currently the last Scottish team to win a European trophy.

I watched the game with my late Uncle when I was on holiday. It is hard to believe it was forty years ago.

ARRIVA Buses Wales VDL Commander 2504 - CX54 EPJ sets off from Rhyl on a Sunday journey on route 51 to Denbigh.

  

A new painting

 

seenandmade.blogspot.com/2011/03/lilys-in-sun.html

Spider-Girl (1998-2006) # 90

After being morphed into a series of odd creatures, Spider-Girl goes out to stop a crime spree but finds herself going against Misery.

 

What If? (1977-1984) # 1

What if Spider-Man joined the Fantastic Four?

 

Venom: Space Knight (2015-2016) # 1

In space, no one can hear you scream...with excitement! Flash Thompson is a lot of things. Soldier. Veteran. Double amputee. Host to a powerful alien symbiote. Now, apart from the Guardians of the Galaxy, Flash has also been tasked with being an intergalactic ambassador of Earth and an Agent of the Cosmos. What does that mean? It means Flash Thompson will be what he's always wanted to be: A Big. Damn. Hero. It's high adventure in deep space as Venom swashbuckles his way across the universe!

 

True Believers: Phoenix Presents Jean Grey Vs. Sabretooth (2017) # 1

Reprinting X-MEN (1991) # 28

 

True Believers: Phoenix Returns (2017) # 1

Reprinting Fantastic Four (1961) # 286

 

True Believers: Wolverine vs. Venom (2018) # 1

Reprinting Venom: Tooth and Claw # 1

 

The Edge published a lookbook supplement to Windlight Magazine today, showcasing the incredible talents of The Edge Stylists. This is the image I did for my Editorial to the lookbook.

 

Twice a year we will be showcasing the work of our outstanding new collective of Edge Stylists. The Stylist group was formed recently to include some of the most outstanding and creative stylists, models, bloggers and photographers to grace the current Fashion Scene in SL. They will help the Edge in its mission to promote the creative and artistic side of SL Fashion, both in imagery and in design and presentation. In real life, Fashion thrives and feeds on creativity, with inspiration sparking inspiration. Even in a smaller SL Fashion community than there has been in past years, it is important to continue to champion creative expression and to help the process of nurturing new inspiration. Fashion is generally considered to be an 'applied art' but I personally consider styling, in SL at least, to be a true form of creative expression, especially combined with talented and expressive photography. It is for these talents that I chose the Stylists who make up the Edge Collective.

 

As our Edge Stylist Group is so new, this first Special Supplement is not themed. Our Stylists have been given a completely free rein to showcase their talents. In these pages you will find a diverse and beautiful collection of images. More will be coming from the Edge over the coming year, so watch this space.

 

Eleseren Brianna - Editor and Curator of The Edge

 

Windlight Magazine - issuu.com/windlightmagazine/docs/april-2016-backup

 

Edge Supplement - issuu.com/windlightmagazine/docs/the_edge-spring2016

 

Editorial Image - style credits

 

LIBERTINE Jacket - red - sYs

Bandage Suit - black - ISON

Urbanista Latex leggings - {Indyra}

Sorucis Thigh Boots - Shoenique

Scatterheart Necklace - black - FINESMITH

Love Entwined Ear Cuffs - Chop Zuey

Lolita Paragorn Ring - Lazuri

Hair - Tijana - RAW HOUSE

Makeup - League, Soiree, MONS, {MUA}, R3i

 

Photo by Eleseren Brianna

   

Another one of my oldies. I'm slowly putting them up so that they can go to the back of my stream when I upload new stuff.

 

Why it might be good - nature. Its all nature. Doing its thing & looking spectacular.

 

The only thing I did was lazily point at it and shoot away. I didn't think about the sunlight falling onto the rose, or how it would translate into a photograph. I didn't think about it at all.

 

Why am I posting this if I don't particularly like it? Well .. I think it acts as a supplement, telling me what not to do while assuring me about how far (or not so far) I'm come.

My father always supplemented our family car with a cheap used pick up... we would use it to take our solid waste junk to the dump locally but would take a beer or two for the John who ran the dump. John would let dad scrounge for stuff that he could repair and used.. We got washer motors so he could build a window cooler... before AC that was the only way we kept cool in the dry hot summers. I would go with him and loved to hunt for dump treasures. I got older dad would let me drive a bit off road before I was old enough to legally drive. I could drive and shift back when most of my friends learn on an automatic trans...

Lijnbaansgracht 12/08/2022 14h31

Street art Frankey gives the city small inconspicuous surprises. Sometimes quite large, sometimes very small. Every week a photo with one of his recent works appears in the supplement to the newspaper Het Parool. A great opportunity to take a closer look at his work. Sometimes you have to search to find it and sometimes it is already gone.

An aquarium appeared on the Brouwersgracht.

 

AQUARIUM

Brouwersgracht, Amsterdam Centrum

July 2022 (Het Parool 30/07/2022)

 

Streetart Frankey

Streetart Frankey (pseudonym of Frank de Ruwe) is a Dutch artist who wants to positively influence the street scene with relatively small and often inconspicuous works of art.

He grew up in Nijmegen, father was an inventor at Philips Netherlands. He studied at Delft University of Technology (Industrial design). In daily life director of and working for design collective Natwerk. In Amsterdam, many of his works in the street art category can be found on buildings, streets and bridges, often in addition to existing building elements. He himself about his work;

"I want to push boundaries. Art has no boundaries, that's why I like it so much."

In 2019, a special page has been dedicated to his art in Het Parool for a number of years; first he took care of that section himself, later he had to leave that work to others because of busy work. A little later his work Eberhard van der Laan appeared above the entrance of Paradiso.

One of the works that inspired him is the Boomzagertje in the Leidsebosje, a work by an as yet unknown artist.

[ Wikipedia ]