Last night, F, W and I went out for italian, at Giorgio's a new place in Tribeca.
I'd spent the day partially admiring stationery at Stapes: I didn't buy anything, but the joy of all the different kinds of stationery totally reminded me of being a kid, and loving Hello Kitty and all other paper-and-pen related nirvana-gifts.
Bizarrely, F and I got to discussing Cheadle-related stationery last night, and reminisced for some time about "Watling Stationers" on Wilmslow Road (as well as Marsh's on the High Street) and the really frum guy behind the counter there. Both of us realised our earliest stationery-related memories were forged checking out the red pencils after cheder on a Sunday morning.
Of course it's long gone. Cheadle, like most other faux-suburban places now has a high street replete with charity shops, building socieites and... that's it, really.
Maybe the next generation will only ever know from chain stores. Their chain stories will be generic, the same as every other kid growing up at that time, whatever place ("remember how Sainsbury's used to stack...."). The uniqueness of our memories is a marker of our age; kids of the seventies who about independently run shops, and owner managers (Alan Butler at Butler's the newsagents). Nowadays, it's all like, do you know Mr Tesco and Mr M&S?
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