Let me introduce you to one of my favourite books*:
Tokyo Style
ISBN 7636-1510-6
Tokyo Style
ISBN 7636-1510-6
Whenever I get depressed by the state of this house, or pissed off by pictures of people's perfect 'desirable homes' in the Interior Design Porn sections of the newspapers: 'Designers Tarquin and Jocasta's spacious town house ticks all the right fashion boxes but retains a traditional family feel', I go look at his book. I have no idea why it was written, or what it's about - all the text is in Japanese - but it cheers me up no end.
It's a small book (150mm x 100mm) and contains some 250 pages of full colour pictures of some of the messiest, most lived in, and cluttered interiors I have ever seen. Rooms stuffed to the gunwales with unmade beds, sinks full of unwashed pots, and piles and piles and piles of STUFF.
I love it. It is a truly inspiring work.
I found it - or Merriol found it, we still arm wrestle about who actually owns this book - in a charity shop in Fort William. No idea how or why it got to the Highlands of Scotland, and was then abandoned by it's previous owner, but I'm glad it did. Just like I have no idea how an ancient Boots Randolph LP came to be tucked in between all the usual 80s easy-listening, middle of the road dreck that usually fills their boxes today. I bought it knowing, in my eclectic little manner, that Boots Randolph was responsible for one of the greatest bits of trash music ever. The immortal Yakkity Sax, a piece of music that can make anything funny. (It convinced the world that Benny Hill was funny for years.)
The LP is now resting in pride of place on top of one of my piles and piles of stuff.
*Or, more precisely, reintroduce you; I mentioned it in the blog last November.
It's a small book (150mm x 100mm) and contains some 250 pages of full colour pictures of some of the messiest, most lived in, and cluttered interiors I have ever seen. Rooms stuffed to the gunwales with unmade beds, sinks full of unwashed pots, and piles and piles and piles of STUFF.
I love it. It is a truly inspiring work.
I found it - or Merriol found it, we still arm wrestle about who actually owns this book - in a charity shop in Fort William. No idea how or why it got to the Highlands of Scotland, and was then abandoned by it's previous owner, but I'm glad it did. Just like I have no idea how an ancient Boots Randolph LP came to be tucked in between all the usual 80s easy-listening, middle of the road dreck that usually fills their boxes today. I bought it knowing, in my eclectic little manner, that Boots Randolph was responsible for one of the greatest bits of trash music ever. The immortal Yakkity Sax, a piece of music that can make anything funny. (It convinced the world that Benny Hill was funny for years.)
The LP is now resting in pride of place on top of one of my piles and piles of stuff.
*Or, more precisely, reintroduce you; I mentioned it in the blog last November.
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