Press once for attention

This bell is at the front door of the Royal Academy of Arts in London. I love the way it's been worn away by years of impatient bell-pushers. It makes me want to press it and run away.

Street Street?

I know Manchester, so I know this sign is telling me that Princess Street is to the right and Brook Street to the left. But the unfortunate use of justification might misdirect strangers to Princess Brook and Street Street. Come on, folks, align to the left!

Spotted in Southampton

Well, it made me smile.

Crossbones graveyard

Down a quiet road in Southwark, London, Crossbones Graveyard is marked by this modest sign.

First recorded in 1598, the graveyard is the final resting place for the prostitutes who worked in Southwark’s brothels. Somehow the sign, in its rough and ready state, is a touching tribute to the struggles of the women buried here.

Activities forbidden within London’s city walls flourished across the river in Southwark. It became home to the seedier, smellier side of life that wasn’t welcome in the city: tanneries, breweries, bear pits, taverns and brothels.

The graveyard was closed in 1853 and largely left until the 1990s when the Museum of London excavated it during the course of some London Underground work. You may have seen the BBC documentary (2010) which identified one of the skeletons as a child prostitute and detailed the difficult life she would have had.

The local community has taken this neglected burial ground of forgotten souls into its heart. There are regular vigils, offerings are left on the gates and the shrine attracts around 50,000 people a year, remembering the outcasts.

Bonus picture of the offerings on the gate

Mrs Rylands Library

This sign, with its fabulous golden lettering, is on a wonderful Victorian Gothic building in Manchester, founded by Enriqueta Rylands as a tribute to her husband, John. The library that bears her husband’s name was a labour of love for Enriqueta. Now part of Manchester University, it took 10 years to build and was opened to the public in 1900. Born in Cuba in 1843, Enriqueta came to Manchester to be a companion to John Rylands’s wife, Martha. When Martha died in 1875, Enriqueta and John married. Enriqueta began the work of building and collecting for the people of Manchester after John’s death in 1888, sharing her love of books, art and architecture. She died in 1908 in Torquay.

At the sign of the golden tooth

This venerable sign is in a Georgian gem area of Southampton. It advertises a dental practice and, despite appearances, it is modern. Historically-aware dentist Clive Marks wanted a sign that was in keeping with the 1820s Grade II listed building that housed the practice. After three years of research he commissioned the sign, based on a similar one in France. Carved from solid elm, and weighing a hefty five stone, the gilded tooth hangs proudly above the select shops of Bedford Place.

But there’s more. And, being a communications professional as well as a sign fanatic, it’s a story that pleases me greatly. 

One night about 11 years ago, the tooth was stolen; three young men were seen staggering up the street with it. Instead of adding it to the local crime statistics, the dentist, suspecting it was a student prank, enlisted the student newspaper to track down the perpetrators. That done, they had some great fun, checking dental records for anyone with an unusually large tooth missing and issuing ransom notes from the militant wing of the tooth fairies. The police entered into the fun as Nasher of the Yard. Not only did this create some great publicity, the venture raised £200 for comic relief in the form of ransom money. The dentist was generous enough to let the student newspaper run it as an exclusive, and it gained international coverage. I can’t vouch for his dentistry skills, but Clive Marks’s ability to extract good PR from a misfortune has to be admired. You can read the full story here http://bedfordplacedentist.co.uk/about-us/the-golden-tooth-story/

Please note how restrained I’ve been. I could have talked about giving my eye teeth for this story, pontificated on the molar of the tale and mentioned gaps in the coverage. I could have drilled down into the detail and filled in for padding, and I could have speculated on incisor dealing. Just be grateful I didn’t.

Mine's a pint and a wife

Sadly now closed up and in disrepair, this handsome Grade II listed building was built in 1904. The site has been the home of an inn for centuries, as the White Lion was on Stockport’s main coaching route. The pub also provided the location for a wife sale, Mayor of Casterbridge style, in 1831. It’s a shame that a site with so much history is now so unloved. I’m sorry to see the hostelry tradition disappear, but, frankly, the habit of wife sales can go unmourned.