(…Or someone’s childhood. Someone British.)
Ever been suddenly reminded of something that was once an everyday part of your life, but somewhere along the way, it wasn’t anymore, and you think, ‘I haven’t thought of that in YEARS!’?
For me, it was last Tuesday, when this stamp crossed my radar. First reaction: “STICKLE BRICKS!” These joyfully-colored, spiky, plastic building blocks were a regular feature of the bedroom floor in my childhood home. But indeed, I hadn’t thought of them in years.
Second reaction: “I didn’t know they were called Stickle Bricks. How about that.”
And then came the question. What the fuck are Stickle Bricks doing on a postage stamp? I had to know more. Continue reading
Hello readers! No, I’m not dead. As my laborious day-job contract draws to a close, I’ll pick up where I left off and get back to slagging off stamps and stamp collectors. Only, I can’t right now, because some of Australia Post’s current and soon-to-come issues have me absolutely purring…
Take this Signs of the Times issue that lit me right up on September 1.
Aussie Post has touched me in the special spot with this tribute to the art of commercial neon. Not only do I love neon art – especially retro-style – but when I was a child, the long drive home from my grandparents’ house was often briefly illuminated by a swing past Melbourne’s Skipping Girl Vinegar sign. I still love catching sight of her jumping her rope, this much-loved icon adored by all despite the fact that she’s a monstrous zombie child with glowing alien eyes and vinegar for blood. Continue reading
Have you seen that scene in The Simpsons where the family discovers that Bart has a stamp collection? I can’t find the video online, so here’s the scene as found on Wikiquote.
(If you can find a link to an embeddable video, Punk will love you forever.)
This is what it’s like hanging out with certain of my uber-cool hipster friends. In their hands, the hobby that brings me friends around the world, money on the side and virtual immunity from dementia becomes fodder for mockery.
Yet when my friends aren’t working in their made-up jobs for startups that will collapse next week, they’re all about Vintage. They shave their armpits using heritage methods Continue reading