As I walked to work this morning I snapped these shots of a wardrobe which has been literring the back laneway.
I can understand why it hasn’t been taken away already, as it’s pretty old and crappy on the surface.
But then as you look closer, you notice the Britney Spears stickers, and you really understand why it hasn’t been taken. There’d be just too much work in getting it looking good, I suspect.
As I looked at the wardrobe I was reminded of my own teenage wardrobe.
First there were Sherbet posters. Darryl, Garth, Alan etc with their hairy chests (yes, even that young) collected from the middle pages of TV Week and TV Times.
They were later replaced by ABBA (posters everywhere), until finally also discovering the delights of Corey Hart (another hairy chest poster from TV Week, or was it Smash Hits).
In these days of built-ins, I wondered if the teenage wardrobe still existed as depository of adolescent fantasy and desire?
Or maybe I’m jumping to conclusions? Maybe it actually belongs to a thirty year old gay man?
In other news, I went out for lunch with one of my former bosses today which was great, and my friend Sue has arrived from Melbourne for work for a couple of times.
Life’s good, eh?
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