The kind of souvenir postcard you can still buy in the famous beer cellars of Munich (although the modern versions are a little more colourful). What makes this unused postcard particularly poignant is the date written on the back in pencil : August 28th 1938 (by chance, 77 years ago today). But think what a year would bring!
Thursday, 27 August 2015
A scan of a postcard I acquired from somewhere or other - but who knows where. The enlarged image reveals a sign saying "Margate College London Offices 1928" which is intriguing as I can't find any mention of such an institution. But it gives us a date which looks around right. Any bird flying these skies today would need the ability to dodge in and out of the skyscrapers.
Wednesday, 26 August 2015
A scan of a picture which arrived in a job-lot of old photos bought on eBay. A British battleship from sometime around the turn of the twentieth century. The occasion would appear to be some kind of naval review - the ship is all dressed up in her Sunday best.
Tuesday, 25 August 2015
A scan of a 35mm negative I shot forty-some years ago when I was living in North Staffordshire. This is the Trent and Mersey Canal at Etruria, the home of the famous pottery of Josiah Wedgwood. Today it is far more colourful - willow pattern bone china compared to cheap stoneware.
Monday, 24 August 2015
Sunday, 23 August 2015
Friday, 21 August 2015
This is a scan from one of my 1905 editions of Punch Magazine. As far as I can work out it represents Alfred Lyttelton (the "current" Colonial Secretary) and Joseph Chamberlain (the "past" Colonial Secretary). The thing I love most about it is the description "a pencil Kodak" - what a wonderful phrase that is. Kodak cameras where just capturing the world and pencil sketches must have seemed things of the past. Just like Kodak cameras now.
Saturday, 15 August 2015
A photograph of an unknown man, a man of consummate style, a man who came to me via a plastic bag full of old photographs. He doesn't deserve to be nameless, he deserves a back-story as finely designed as his clothing. He was an accountant, a town hall official, maybe a solicitor. He lived in a smart villa in the suburbs. He married and had beautiful children. He perished in the mud of Flanders.
I can't quite make out the caption on this old photographic postcard which was part of a job-lot of unknown old photographs given to me by a Welsh cousin. It seems to be the Lintz Wesleyan Women's Something-or-Other. Any attempt to interpret the caption pales into insignificance compared with an attempt to try and work out what on earth they are doing and why they are dressed as they are. Maybe we are better not knowing.
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