02.23.06

Good and bad signs

Posted in Signs of London at 1:03 pm by Jon

In a moment of quality I wish he would extend more frequently to his floral selections themselves, our local florist has on his van the very smart:

ALL STEMS FROM COVENT GARDEN

At the very opposite end of the scale, a local barber has decided that he really grab a piece of this upmarket “hairdressing” malarkey. Sadly, his sign doesn’t really do his bold offer any justice:

ANY HAIR
CUT ANY
STYLE ÂŁ8

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07.12.05

Tube posters to avoid

Posted in London, Signs of London at 12:15 pm by Jon

Notable posters on the Underground, No. 1.

The advert for Iain M. Banks’ new novel, The Algebraist:

Have your mind blown to smithereens.

Thanks for the offer but, right now, probably not.

01.14.05

Footnotes and Queries

Posted in Forteana, Dreaming of England, London, Signs of London at 10:46 am by

The graveyard was first uncovered during work on the Jubilee Line extension in the 1990’s, when workmen unexpectedly started digging up human remains.

A little historical digging then revealed that this had been an unconsecrated, and therefore uncelebrated burial place for the prostitutes or “Geese” of Southwark, who had worked the many brothels, stews and bawdy houses of this area in the 14th 15th and 16th Century.

I’d never heard of Robert Elms’ Footnotes and Queries. More fool me.

He covers all kinds of London hidden history and geography, from the sorry story of Borough’s Crossbones graveyard (above) to the supposed system of Masonic temples in Picadilly:

This query came from a listener who had been taken to the top of Lillywhites store on Piccadilly Circus about ten years ago. A friend of his worked at the store and took him to the very top of the building where most staff never went.

Here [on the top floor of Lillywhite’s store] he was amazed to see a large ballroom, and even more intriguingly a Masonic temple decorated in full symbols and signs. This though was not all, he was told that there were a series of Masonic temples around Piccadilly Circus, which together created a Masonic symbol that could be seen from above.

The supposed pattern seems to be a construal added by shop workers familiar with London psychogeographers (the theme appears not only in Alan Moore’s From Hell but earlier in Iain Sinclair’s fiction). I do like the idea of each venerable department store having its own Masonic temple. The idea reeks of old-fashioned capitalist power.

10.14.04

Cover his face

Posted in Signs of London at 4:08 pm by

The hairdresser and I were just discussing how the next trick for any hair salon worth its salt will be a massage chair when I spotted this fellow sauntering down the street. Full camouflage fatigues, wearing a fencing mask.

To my slight surprise, there are no reports of any local post offices being turned over today.

07.30.04

Counting the signs of progress

Posted in Signs of London at 1:00 pm by

I’ve occasionally toyed with the idea of either photographing or recording every piece of street furniture on a single pavement. That is, every manhole cover, bin, pipe, every little metal thing under your feet that defies or eludes explanation. I haven’t done it yet largely because there are so many even on a short stretch of pavement. Try counting up next time you walk down your road.

Some measure of the effect, though, can be gained from taking a look at Diamond Geezer’s tally of all the signs currently up at Bow Road tube station while it undergoes redevelopment. Obsessive, yes. It’s also fantastic. I’ve seen much much less interesting lists being displayed in funky London galleries.

(Safety) hats off to DG for that one.

04.23.04

Blue Plaques

Posted in Signs of London at 1:05 pm by

Blue plaques in London (via Ben Hammersley).

It’s a bit messy, but all it’s really missing is a big navigable map.

03.30.04

Chipping in

Posted in Signs of London at 12:33 pm by

I wanted to talk about the semiology of keeping a level gaze (yes, really) but I just don’t have the time right now.

Instead, let me share my favourite chip shop name. It’s not The Sea Cow, nor is it the yet to be named Rick Stein chip shop that will mark the man’s final and complete ownership of the town of Padstow.

The best named chip shop in my view is the grubby little place tucked under the bridge next to Waterloo station. It revels in the endlessly inappropriate and meaningless name of ‘Fishcoteque’. The absurd intimation of fun it offers gives me a laugh every time I see it.

I am looking forward to the second branch, which can only be called ‘Fishco Inferno’.

03.24.04

Hitting the high notes in Southwark

Posted in Signs of London at 6:52 pm by

Continuing our shared enjoyment of local newspaper headlines, the Southwark News today offers:

QUEEN OF THE NIGHT TO VISIT DULWICH

Excellent. That’s where she is then.

It’s funny, because only last week I saw Figaro and Don Giovanni arguing outside a chip shop in Camberwell.

12.27.03

Truly random

Posted in Signs of London at 5:39 pm by

What do legsore travellers think when they disembark at Gatwick airport and find that the route to central London is through the tatty sadlands of Croydon and Streatham? Streatham, in particular, has that odd narrowness of streets British cities achieve without ever straying close to either the chic or the quaint.

Streatham is the sort of place you quickly remember not to stop, unless it’s for the magnificently conceived bulk-buy Indian supermarket (AKA the cash & curry). As I reluctantly pulled the car over at a petrol station one evening last week, it was therefore only after careful calculation had shown that I would conk out in Croydon.

The forecourt was gloomy, underlit and overlooked by a dark brick building of indeterminate purpose. The sign on the pump was both grim and baffling:

A PRE-PAY SERVICE IS NOW
BEING USED AT THIS STATION,
RANDOMLY
PLEASE SEE THE ATTENDANT
BEFORE PUMPING

12.17.03

Glassing gran

Posted in Signs of London at 7:53 pm by

I’ve mentioned the perfect tabloid headline before. You may recall that ‘Sex change bishop in in palace mercy dash’ served very well right up until the 80s. In these dissolute days, I suggest ‘Asylum seekers plot Beckham kidnap’.

But that’s for the national papers. Local rags are a different matter entirely. The ideal local paper headline would involve neighbours from hell, family events, hospital, violence, some man-bites-dog type reversal and, if possible, court action.

Bearing these criteria in mind, please be upstanding for this heavyweight effort from the supernaturally talented South London Press:

GRAN ‘GLASSED AT WEDDING’

Just about everything you need in only four words. Surely the local headline of the year.

10.07.03

Hey, Stella!

Posted in Signs of London at 2:42 pm by

Unconscious street theatre, excerpt No. 1

Barrel-chested lad on Finchley Road, calling to an upstairs window:

“Stella! Hey, Stellaaaa!”

Marvellous, but I’m not holding my breath for excerpt No. 2.

09.03.03

Pound shop car

Posted in Signs of London at 4:15 pm by

The owner of the car with the personalised numberplate “99P” is evidently a master ironist with a wicked sense of the absurd.

Or a vain, humourless mug. Your call.

07.30.03

Breaking news

Posted in Signs of London at 9:24 am by

A fine example of the headline writer’s ability to spin nonsense from the ever-engaging South London Press:

Man Dies 30 Years After Car Crash

06.26.03

Fantastic creatures

Posted in Signs of London at 4:26 pm by

At the risk of appearing to spend my spare time gawping at newsagent windows, this one has a new and mysterious card of the type written in red felt tip.

It advertises:

MERMAID
4 MEN AND WOMEN
RELAXING

I’m quietly pleased that my subculture slang awareness doesn’t extend far enough to understand this, but there’s definitely something fishy about it.

06.13.03

Jack’s a dull boy

Posted in Signs of London at 12:45 pm by

Surfacing briefly for air, I realise (i) it is Friday, (ii) it is sunny outside.

This means that I can walk 50 yards to the local Friday market and grab some excellent Phad Thai straight from the wok.

While I am enjoying the sunshine, I browse the second hand bookstall. A couple of things catch my eye:

‘The Reincarnation Workbook’ - I am tempted to ask why the original owner is selling, but decide this would be Cheeky

Bertrand Russell’s ‘In Praise of Idleness‘ - normally my kindest friends would not suggest I need more idleness in my life, but at the moment an hour or two wouldn’t go amiss

06.04.03

Who’s your daddy?

Posted in Signs of London at 10:23 am by

You learn not to read the cards in the windows of local newsagents.

Barely a mile from my home, in the riotously expensive Dulwich Village, the cards advertise unwanted pine cupboards, school runs, piano lessons, properties to let in Tuscany, language lessons for the kids on vac.

My local newsagents cover French only. There are plenty of TVs on offer, but no videos. In the Village any of the elegant cards advertising massage will specify ‘Women only’. I infer that the ‘Male massage’ offered in my neck of the woods is far from analogous.

I have spotted a new, professionally printed card in a couple of windows. It stands out among the felt-tipped index cards so much that I stopped to look:

Are you the father?

Don’t get caught out.

Take our reliable paternity test.

Never forget there’s money in knowing for sure.

Unrelatedly, I think, they restarted milk float deliveries in our area a couple of years ago.

03.04.03

Hamster & High

Posted in Signs of London at 3:40 pm by

Charity shop window, Finchley Road:

“HAMSTER CAGE W BITS & PIECES”

(The “W” was a mark that might equally have indicated “in”)

Railway nuts

Posted in Signs of London at 10:06 am by

On the new sweets & nuts stall at London Bridge station:

“NUTS TO GO”