I’m enjoying these personifications of the London Tube lines by the manga artist Inko. Part manga heroes and heroines, part flower fairies, there are plenty of witty touches that will keep any Londoner chuckling. Have a look at Inko’s website here for more.
Thanks for the boogie ride. Anita O’Day.
I liked Cynthia’s witty and expressive illustration for the New Yorker book list, so here’s a couple more looks at her style from her Instagram feed.
The perm and SPF 1000
Really enjoyed both this interview with Bridget, and Rachel Harrell’s illustrations for Bridget’s book The Secret Art of Being a Grown Up.
It covers everything from reasonable expectations to how to open champagne to going to bed on time (yes, it works).
Everyone would have their own list of life wisdom, but I liked Bridget’s calm tone and witty illustrations.
Lots of commentators compare these books to Meet Me in St Louis, and as well as the period details (the hairstyles! the dresses! the slang! the excitement over a telephone!), what I love most is the inherent optimism – progress is always good, and friends and family remain stable whilst welcoming new developments – but also the complete acceptance that a job, writing, singing, making your own mind up, are all important to a girl and in no way conflicted with the rest of her being.
I find it depressing that a modern book wouldn’t show this, or would have to make a big point about it. Written in the 50s about the 1900-1910s, Betsy, Emily and Carney are in fact far more progressive than any characters today.
This is spring:
A walk in the park with friends, March 2017.
Fribble: Regency slang for an airheaded fellow.
As regular visitors will know, I do like a pom-pom. This pair is from Lux Tots.
never in my life have I seen
as handsome a rat as you.
Thank you for noticing my potatoes.
Oh Rat, I am not rich.
I left you a note concerning my potatoes,
but I see that I placed it too high
and you could not read it.
my wife and I are cursed with possession of a large and hungry dog;
it worries us that he might learn your name –
which is forever on our lips.
Oh Rat, consider my neighbour;
he has eight children (all of them older
and more intelligent than mine)
and if you lived in his house, Rat
ten good Christians
(if we include his wife)
would sing your praises nightly,
whereas in my house there are only five.