Old postcards remind me of a time when correspondence was a simple thing. One sent letters, or, failing that, postcards – and in cases of urgency, a good ol’ fashioned telegram did the trick. (As an aside, I am obsessed with the truncation of telegram messages: the unnatural brevity, the lack of punctuation and the use of ‘stop’ in the text. Imagine Michael Jackson’s ‘Billie Jean’ rendered in telegram speech… BILLIE JEAN NOT LOVER STOP JUST CLAIMS I THE ONE STOP.)
So anyway, where was I? Postcards, that’s right. These two here I found by flicking through shoeboxes at the Camberwell Market, much as I have found other great vintage postcards at the fleamarket at Porte de Vanves in Paris. There are a number of sites where you can buy old postcards ready to go – some sites more expensive than others, but I infinitely prefer finding postcards myself. There’s a pleasure in the randomness of the search, and it’s fun digging through piles of old postcards, often with faded messages on the back. It would fit well with my romantic notion of olden times if the messages were all bittersweet declarations of love, but they’re often just as banal as postcards today. Did we ever write interesting postcards?
:: Arwen ::