Trapped in the Glass

Trapped In Glass

Trapped in the Glass – Victoria & Albert Museum

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2 thoughts on “Trapped in the Glass

  1. When I was a kid in Boston, I had this impression, soley from reading, that every practically kid in London had to haul on his ‘Wellington” and go to the “Victoria and Albert ” every time it rained. Bad weather = Victoria andAlbert. I recall several literary children claiming that one more gaze at some dollhouse would drive them “daft”. Someone would get drenched by a passing ‘lorrie” on the way home, and the youngest dismissed as a ‘hopeless little rotter”. Everyone would be ‘out of sorts’ until they stopped for ‘high tea’ on the way home, with sausage as well as bacon, two kinds of cake and those special chocolate biscuits of which “Edmund was particularly fond”.
    It all seemed extremely glamorous when I was nine. Even after I learned that raincoats, trucks, and cookies were being discussed, the language remained evocative to suggest an entirely separate world…well, at least until I was twelve and started listening to the Sex Pistols..

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