It is far easier to buy this kind of stuff in Hebden Bridge than it is to purchase, say, socks, or useful modern technology. This is just one of at least three shops of this kind here, and it’s not even that big a town. There is something of an optical illusion going on here — things are not quite as big as they seem…
Anyone who thinks that an ‘antique’ shop these days is a guarantee that the products for sale are somehow all going to be more than about 20 years sold is fooling themselves. But these places are good to visit, and to photograph. This place in Ramsbottom even outdid Hebden’s equivalent spot. Why this mannequin is done up in bondage I have no idea, but even she is upstaged by the Dalek behind.
From a fake old picture to some real ones. These were taken in around 1945 when my Granddad, Harold Whitworth — my father’s father — was serving in Egypt towards the end of World War 2. He’s the chap with the dapper moustache sat down next to the guy in the turban; and the one on the left of the other shot. (Mildly dubious it might be to dress as a native stereotype, but I have photos of myself doing much the same in Fiji.) Anyway, these are the kinds of family references that now seem obligatory when visiting my parents for the annual-Xmas get-together — last year it was the family tree; in 2023, the box of very old photos.
I don’t honestly remember Granddad ever saying much about his experiences in the war; he was certainly not one of those ex-soldiers who go on about it to anyone who will listen. In these pictures it all looks like an extended holiday, but I’m sure it wasn’t.
Two years ago, roughtly, I walked into this establishment intending to buy gifts for others and came out having spent far too much money on myself (see this post). Today I ignored its warmth and welcoming lighting; except to capture this shot, anyway.
More junk, like yesterday. But no one would come in if it were called a ‘junk shop’, so the word ‘antique’ is employed to give these various discarded pieces of trash some cachet. But it’s all for show. Take the false teeth visible to top right, for example. However old they are, I doubt they would be employed by a set decorator for some period movie.
I don’t normally covet material goods. People, places, experiences, sure… but not normally things. Today I made an exception. Although it’s just as well the price of this marvellous item is concealed on this shot.
This is one of those junk shops that has grandiose self-image and calls itself an “Antiques Centre” but we’ll let it off. I believe this object is an old typesetting tray, the kind of thing useful when typefaces came as hundreds of small carved pieces of metal. What practical use to anyone it is nowadays, I cannot imagine, but on the other hand it is a pretty cool lump of wood if you ask me. Not that I decided to lug it home or anything.
I realised today while having 45 minutes to wander around town that in 12 years of living in Hebden Bridge I had never walked up a particular street. So, I did. It looks like this: if one wants it to. (This image is further cropped from the first version after I realised there was a satellite dish on it!)
Get used to the scenery anyway: with only a very few exceptions (six or so), I’m staying in the home town every day for the next five and a half weeks. It hasn’t happened much lately…
Being 42 