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…
Thursday market manoeuvers. “I know it’s in here somewhere — I just have to move a few things around to find it…”
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.
Rarely has it been more welcome to be spending the night at an airport hotel and then undergoing an airport transfer, back in Cape Town. Which, as airports go, is quite manageably sized and decent: better than most. I suppose most of this stuff may genuinely be ‘African’, but it’s still an imagery for travellers rather than anything culturally real.
This was one of two photos that I took today which I like despite their technical deficiencies. I was more or less trying for this effect. My third day in a row in Manchester (and blog-wise that’s the first time that’s happened in 2024), but I was not there to work, nor, like the great majority of the people in the city centre, to shop. Instead I was going to the football and just passing through on the tram, nicely insulated from the rush — and the rather poor weather — outside, at least for 45 minutes or so.
Another day spent almost entirely in my office at home, working, and not emerging until after the sunlight was mostly gone. The Friday market in town was still open at this point, though only just, and I’m sure this guy is considering packing up his clocks and jewellry and calling it a day.
I go monochrome here simply because it feels right for the shot and it stops the bright green stripes at the top dominating it. It is not a ‘Black Friday’ reference. I hate that bollocks, in fact: especially because, as various recent conversations about this marketing wheeze have proven, virtually no one in the UK — consumers, retailers, the media, anyone — actually understands the derivation of the term. Be honest — do you know where it comes from? (American readers don’t get to answer this.)
According to the advertising for this stall on Hebden Bridge’s Friday market, Norwegian socks are the best in the world. Who am I to argue? It does get pretty cold and wet in Norway. Anyway, if you want them, you now know where to come and get them (outside Norway).
I know this blog has had its banal moments over the last 12.6 years but depicting the weekly supermarket shop is pushing the boundaries. Yet it was (mildly) interesting today if only because it took place in a different venue from normal, for the convenience on the day: and the trolley park caught my eye. I like the deep blue colours that contrast the dominant greyness. But is it exciting? No, that I am not claiming.
Believe me, I’m one of these middle-aged guys who has gone the other way when it comes to hair loss, and I don’t need any. Not on my head and certainly not on/in my eyebrows, ears and nose, thank you very much. But clearly there is a market for the stuff, at least among the women who shop in the Arndale Market, Manchester. And there was me thinking they did it naturally — like me (last haircut, 2/10/19 and still counting).
Now here’s the polar opposite to Monty Python’s Cheese Shop. If you don’t get the reference, just be comforted by the enormous variety here. Time to buy some Xmas presents — and maybe squirrel a few away on my own account.
Being 42 