When I had a proper job in an agency, it was the custom on Friday afternoons to get shed loads of sweets in, usually a precursor to one of the juniors being sent out to the local off licence, itself a limbering-up period before hitting the pub in St.John's Wood. So I thought I'd revive the sweets end of things by sharing these jars of goodies with you, shot through the glass of Britcher & Rivers' Rye sweetshop. They remind me that Fox's Glacier Mints were made in Leicester and had a neon polar bear on the gable end of their factory (or did I imagine it?); that one of my favourite Liquorice Allsorts is available on its own as a Pascal Spog; and that I never did see the point of trying to eat a plastic space ship with a tiny spot of sherbet in it. Have the Anglican brethren amongst us noted how much communion wafers have the same pointless flavour? Minus a holy shot of sherbet, of course. However much we're reduced to picking up Revels and Maltesers when we're queuing-up to mortgage ourselves for a gallon of petrol, or slinging catering-size bags of Jelly Babies into supermarket trollies, isn't it encouraging that there are still shops like Britcher & Rivers that unscrew jars of sweets and dish the contents into metal weighing scoops? I'd say more, but it is Friday and at least one local round here opens at five. Have a good weekend.
I am a designer, writer and photographer who spends all his time looking at England, particularly buildings and the countryside. But I have a leaning towards the slightly odd and neglected, the unsung elements that make England such an interesting place to live in. I am the author and photographer of over 25 books, in particular Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2006), More from Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2007), Cross Country (Wiley 2011), The Cigarette Papers (Frances Lincoln 2012), Preposterous Erections (Frances Lincoln 2012) and English Allsorts (Adelphi 2015)