Jersey is one of those funny little islands in the English Channel that are closer to France, and part of the UK, but get to put out their own stamps.
Interestingly, this practice began during the Nazi occupation of those islands, when they were cut off from the mother country. This is just one of the reasons why nerds who are into postal history find them so delectable. (If you think you might be one of those nerds, you should check out the Channel Islands Specialists’ Society.)
I’m not one of those nerds, but I do like how these islands churn out pretty stamps, because, let’s face it, what else have they got going on? I mean apart from tax avoidance schemes.
Recently Jersey jumped on the retro stamp bandwagon with a 1960s Popular Culture issue.
I love the Hendrix-inspired psychedelic guitar player with his groovy vibes and his remarkable fused fingers on his strumming hand.
The models (or are they just ’60s housewives?) on the fashion stamp take me back to a childhood spent rifling through Grandma’s sewing pattern magazines.
And it eludes me why more stamp administrations don’t honour the cheese and pineapple stick on their postal stamps.
The colours are a riot, and that font – so 60s, almost the Goodies’ titles font on a stamp.
But I am so here for this utterly ridiculous acid trip of a stamp sheetlet. Looking like somebody swallowed a reel of Yellow Submarine and regurgitated it, it owes more than a nod to the criminally under-recognised Heinz Edelmann. I hope his estate is getting a kickback.
A two quid stamp is hiding in there somewhere. You can pretend the Queen’s head is Waldo or Wally or whatever they call him in your neck of the woods. In fact, we can play it now. Can you find a man dressed like a Beatle on the front cover of Sergeant Pepper’s? Can you find somebody being interviewed?
What a shame that this entirely philatelically-motivated delight will never, ever be seen on genuine commercial mail.
Not to worry. It’s still bloody brilliant.