Best Buddies

My lunchtime amble took me down Hockley today. It's a good area for shopping, people watching and events.

Unfortunately none of those things happened whilst I was there, but I did notice this photograph on the pavement that had been thrown away for some reason.

I casually picked it up to see if there was any names on the back. There wasn't. Only the word 'Agfa', just to prove that it was a real photo.

So I wonder who these two girls are, when it was taken, and how their picture ended up on  the pavement of a Nottingham Street?

They are probably school or college friends. Possibly taken several years ago, when thin eyebrows were popular. Now girls have brows that look like they were painted on with a bingo dobber. Thick lines. I don't think it's a good look at all, but women keep doing it. Why?

Rolling Along

I have never been to a school prom before. Certainly such things didn't exist when I left school nearly forty years ago. You just left and that was that. Most pupils were happy to see the back of school life, I know I was. It didn't help changing schools at 14, as I was always treated like an outsider, so I was only too pleased to hear that final bell sound the end of team and the beginning of my working life.

Nowadays it seems that it's a big deal when the days of formative education comes to an end. It's party time. And the former pupils really go to town on outfits, make up and getting there. It's almost the same as a grown up one, but without the alcohol.

An Italian fashion designer whom I know, asked me if I could go and take some photos of a dress that he had created for his girlfriend's niece. I said sure, why not. Something different to shoot.

The party was taking place at a local hotel, and fortunately it was sunny with some early evening sun. When we got there, I just couldn't believe how many classic and modern cars had been especially hired for the occasion. One after the other kept appearing and dropping off the sixteen year olds. Some of whom looked a lot older and very grown up. No one turned up in their dad's Ford Fiesta or Honda Accord, I can tell you.  And you can't really beat making an entrance in a vintage Rolls Royce, can you.

The dress looked amazing on the niece. You'll just have to take my word for it, as I can't show you what it looks like, or how glamorous the niece looked. She could have been mistaken for a model.

Act Of War

This year marks the 100th anniversary of the start of World War One and those terible four years of battle with soldiers stuck fighting in trenches around France.

This horror of this time was brought to life tonight with the Nottingham Playhouse Youth Theatre's production of 'All Quiet on the Western Front' at the rather unusual, but very atmospheric old Barton's bus garage in Chilwell, and is part of the NEAT14 festival.

The play is based on the 1929 book of the same name by Erich Maria Remarque and has been adapted by Robin Kingsland. He was actually in the audience to see how the first night went and the audience's reaction to the unfolding tale.

He didn't have to worry at all, as the young cast did an excellent job of portraying people of the same age who had to face death, injury and destruction on a daily basis. To show that these soldiers were still  basically of school age, they carried large T squares and rulers instead of guns.

What makes the story really poignant, is it is told through the eyes of the German side. How they were just ordinary schoolboys like the English 'Tommys', and who had been encouraged to enlist and fight for their fatherland, but they didn't really know what they were fighting for.

The final scene is quite profound, and there was an almost stunned silence when the lights finally went out, and before the applause started.

The play runs until Sunday and is well worth seeing. But if you do, take your own cushion, as the old wooden seats available are very hard.