“A thing worth having is worth dusting”
The above quote from Sir Hugh Casson, architect and Festival of Britain director, caused me some amusement in my youth. I’ve never been a decent curator of nice things. I was always bemused by magazine ads for companies such as The Franklin Mint, showing an attractive woman in an attractive home, with a rictus, Stepford Wife type of grin, admiring one of her limited number collection of miniature porcelain bells, all provided in a hand-carved, Genuine English Oak, wall-mounted presentation case. Possibly, of course, I was conforming to a sad stereotype and you might suggest that, though unable to understand girly enthusiasms, I’d still happily sit in a smug, testosterone-filled fug in my hypothetical motor house, master of a collection of finely-fettled classic motors and a bulk dispenser of Swissvax.
But I’m not sure that’s the case. At times I have bought objects that appealed to me then, years later found them still in the original box – as I write there is a nice scale model of an Alfa Giulia Berlina bought on Ebay in 2013, Continue reading “Concours Queen or Oily Rag”
Driven To Write 