Browsing through some old images this struck me. I don’t claim it’s of any significance – although I would like it to be…!
Just round the corner from where I live, since half a year or so, sits this:
It’s a bra recycle bank. Yes, read that again: a bra recycle bank. Unwanted bras are washed (well I hope), repaired (if necessary) and re-sold via charity shops. It made me feel somewhat guilty, because I was an avid user of all the other recycling banks that live there: glass, cans, paper, old clothes and old shoes. To this one, however, I can’t contribute; I await the erection of a used razor blade recycle bank. More manly.
Then this summer I was in London for the Proms in the Park. This was great – I didn’t have time to write a about it – but that’s another matter. Beforehand we went to grab some essential shoppings – i.e. mostly beer and crisps in the neighbourhood. Or maybe I should call it just ‘hood, because this was positioned prominently right outside the Underground station:
Is that the difference between Brighton and London? Probably not, but the contrast is there anyway.