Tiny stripes

I love this mitten. I reckon I could fit into it too. I've got pretty small hands.

Stop, look and listen…

…and don't forget your gloves.


I'm perturbed by the furry fabric here. It reminds me of Gonzo from the Muppets. I don't like to imagine him looking similarly sodden and lifeless.

Parklife

Fantastic positioning by the finder. Up out of the snow. At eye level. Unconventional. Vaguely rude-looking.

Found at: Hylands Park, Chelmsford, Essex

Rubber Soul

It's not just about the knitwear.

Found at: Borough Market.

'Hand me my leather…'

If you ever needed any convincing of one of my key life rules – never trust a man in leather gloves – I give you this:

It's as though this glove is attached to the arm of someone crouching behind the bench, and it's all ready to wrap itself around the neck of the first person who really needs a sit-down.

Anyone want to play a lyrics quiz with the title of this post? No, because no one's actually reading this blog yet.

Found at: London Bridge station, on the way to platforms 14-16.

Woollen roadkill

I know I'm breaking the rules already by posting a pair here. But look at the way they're clinging together in their time of peril and abandonment.

Feed the tree

If you choose to pick up all the lost gloves you see, you could spritz them with a little artificial snow and use them as Christmas tree decorations. Festive, ecologically sound and a conversation point for visitors. Don't say I never give you anything.

Found: Outside Tate Modern

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Hello. I've started a new blog. It's about lost gloves and is, therefore, fairly seasonal. I'm not sure what I'll do in the summer months, but let's ride this crazy train together and see what happens. I really wanted to call the new blog Cold Hands, Warm Heart, but someone had bagged that URL already. There are no truly original ideas. So instead, the title is a tribute to Neil Diamond, but I'm sure you knew that already. Ten Storey Glove Song didn't quite make the cut, but it's still a good song. (So is Cold Hands, Warm Heart, by the way.)

The first thing you might notice is that I've gone a bit crazy with the fonts. Sorry about that. The design possibilities on Blogger have really opened up since I started my first blog, and it's gone right to my head. And my hand. The one that clicks on things. I've chosen a snowy background as these are the kind of weather conditions when you see a lot of lost gloves lying around, but that could change at any time, depending on how soon I get bored of it.

Some gloves will be published in date order as I find them. I've had some of the pictures for ages, so I can't remember the time or place, but that doesn't mean I care for them any less. I'll post those ones gradually.

Let's start with a textbook example: the glove picked up by a well-meaning stranger and left on a wall in case the bereft owner chooses to retrace their steps.


You will notice that it is a fingerless/mitten-flap combo. I welcomed this innovation in handwear when I first came across it a couple of years ago. The maximum body-heat-generation of a mitten; then, with a flick of the wrist and a bit of fiddling about, you're able to get your keys out or swipe your Oyster card on the bus reader, fumble-free. Now, I see the loose mitten bits flapping about on myself – or someone else – and think, 'You twee, woolly bastards. Be a mitten. Be a fingerless glove. Just damn well COMMIT, will you? Stop trying to be cute.'

Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.