snOOPin

back in the day, i chose to go and live in brighton for a while. Id love to say that it was for some profound reason such as its 'cosmopolitan yet at the same time bohemian atmosphere' that is sold to you in every leaflet or prospectus, but this would be a lie...brighton is by the sea...the end.
After a 3 year love affair with this city I still go back as often as I can to visit friends and take mini pilgrimages to certain places. down to the seafront so I can skate from the posh marina all the way to the skeleton of the west pier, to the south lanes so I can attempt to find the alleyway from Quadrophenia or the shop that sells venetian masks, and then to north lanes to visit the most magical place in the whole city. Snoopers paradise.

ok so...most people dont really see it as magical....more of a pretty chilly junk shop. but when I walked into this place for the first time something hit me (apart from the overwhelming musty smell). To try and describe what it was will only make me sound super geeky but ill do my best. You see..I like stuff, especially little random things with meanings practically unknown to others who may view it as tat. and snooper paradise is full of stuff.

random artifacts from peoples lives that held such meaning to one individual are now simply displayed with a small description and price. Their importance, which kept them cherised for so many years, erased in the blink of a shopowners eye.
a childs bear that stopped the terror of night time is now 'bear circa 1950 £10-slight fray in seems'. Boxes of letters and postcards telling their recipient of sunny holidays, births, deaths and tea parties, are all given a standard value of 25p. that crystal glass, given as a wedding gift and only ever brought out on special occasions can now be found on a shelf that strains under the weight of all the other prized crystal...£3 per glass.

The last time I was there, I found an old suitcase full of slides (25p/50p respectively) documenting certain moments in a lifetime where great events took place. A large number were of flower displays, nothing else, just flowers. It was this that finally made me realise what had hit me -apart from that musty smell was an huge sense of loss. Its a strange sensation to be surrounded by so much stuff and feel pretty empty.
every piece epitomises a life that was and is now lost to our bargin hunting, 'this will look great with my ikea dresser', world.

But then sometimes (and you'll have to trust me on this) it becomes a magical place. This magic will draw an unsuspecting person past the old hats and suitcases, around the lp collections and breadbins, until they spot an item that fits like a jigsaw piece into their own lives. When this occurs, there are no fireworks or flashing lights (its a very low key type of magic), pennies are simply exchanged, along with a smile from the shopkeeper if you're very lucky (mustiness and chillyness has an adverse affect on some), because of this magic, a new set of memories start to forge between the person and the purchase that will keep it cherished for another century.

a suitcase £5, will take its owner on their honeymoon and will be used after as the protector of her wedding dress and garter.
a book entitled 'one man, one rod' will be cherished by a grandson who was given it on the summers evening he caught his first fish.
and even slides of flowers will be discovered by a lady, used for her weekly arranging club that she attends with her friends and kept as their inspiration.

xXx