I am the proud owner of a V&A membership card. Yes, I join the flanks of those who rise and peruse in museums. It’s the first time I’ve had an annual membership of a cultural venue. I’ve had the cinema, and have the gym’s but never a place so far away.
Today after dropping off my canvases for the forthcoming exhibition at the Claremont Project in the Angel, Islington, I went via Kings Cross to South Ken. to queue for the Shoe exhibition. There was no queue. The place was quiet: Alexander McQueen’s exhibition, gig, has just finished. I saw it twice.
Did the shoes in 5 minutes. Kate Porter lent her shoes to the V&A. There was a film about shoe-making/cobbling and familiar styles sat next to “Lotus Flower” shoes, those tiny things worn by culturally-mutilated Chinese women. Glad it was free for me.
I was on a University mathematics course years back and my chosen project was “shoe-making”. I interrupted the cobblers in Lea Bridge Road, none of whom spoke English, and copied their templates then wrote notes about Empire -made size 8 shoes being smaller than those manufactured in England. Our tutor never hid her disappointment at the amateur research.
I remembered how I’d go to school inMuswell Hill with holes in the soles of my shoes and so my socks had holes too. There was nothing to be done. My mother took us to the Nag’s Head Holloway shoe shops once in a blue moon.
What’s all this gotta do with the price of bread?
Saw the UK Ceramics in Blue and White on the empty sixth floor of the V&A. Not absorbed that into my system yet.
Back in the room.