Give Greece A Chance

Today, another entry for the international dossier. Captured by my mum, on holiday in Greece.

She says: 'The attached was taken as I exited the tomb of Clytemnestra at Mycenae. As you know, but I admit I didn't, she was not a nice woman. I don't know if the missing digits are significant.'


I don't know either, but I know that I like the diamond knit. Reminds me of school socks. Not in a weird way.

Found at: the tomb of Clytemnestra, Mycenae, Greece

White Lines (Don't Do It)

I've got a bit behind with the glove posting lately, which is a shame because this one, from Ceddis in Edinburgh, is a beauty.

I particularly love the composition of this – the white line stretching into the distance, and the sinister shadow-people. It's a bit 28 Days Later. Probably. I haven't actually seen it.

Found: On the bike path, next to the Serpentine, Hyde Park, London

New York, New York

Sound a tiny toy trumpet because today Glove On The Rocks Inc. is thrilled to reveal its very first international contribution, sent to us by Dauré all the way from New York City. Yes, the New York City THAT IS IN AMERICA.

These gloves sit jauntily on a pair of brooms on a street sweeper's cart. Maybe they actually belong to the street sweeper. But I prefer to believe they were lost and he gathered them up and displayed them as some kind of trophy. Because who can resist a picture as fabulous as this? Not me, that's for sure.

Found: 5th Avenue, New York, USA

York This Way

You know how it is. You wait ages for a stray glove, and then, on a glorious walk in the March sunshine, three come along at once. That's exactly what happened to Lizzy. Here are her findings:





The last one is my personal favourite. I love the way this leather and leopard-print number (pretty slutty for a glove, I'd say) is appearing to cup the arse area of the jeans it's draped over. Cheeky.

Found: Various locations (including Debenhams), York

Back In Black

It's been a while since we saluted some sinister leather numbers, but these, sent to me by Helena, are perfect, tiny, examples of the murder-friendly genre.

Helena says: "How very careless to lose both of them, and they clearly start them young with their murdering in Chester However, I fear the owner may have to retake their 'Murder: Necessary Equipment 101' module. Sigh."

Sigh indeed. Sigh and shudder.

Found in: Chester

God Save The Queen

Today's offering was sent to me by my dear godmother.

With the impending nuptials of our prince, the purple and gold colour scheme seems positively regal.

And the way the glove is positioned makes it look something like the waving hand of our cherished monarch.

Found at: Queen Square, London W1 (even the location is appropriate)

Dog Days Are Over

Here is the second in our two-parter from InvisibleWoman. She describes it thus:

'A tribute laid on the grave of a long-dead pet in the grounds of my local park, probably put there by a descendent so that the poor dead hound can feel a ghostly pat on the head now and again.'

Found at: Wollaton Park, Nottingham

Long Road Home

This the first of a double bill from one of my favourite readers, InvisibleWoman, who risked life and limb to bring this lost glove to wider attention.

She says: 'I felt a complete and utter Charlie standing at the side of a busy dual carriageway taking a picture of this strangely defiant gauntlet (I definitely get the impression of a two-fingered salute going on here). Thankfully, I have one of those new-fangled camera phones so I could pretend to be sending a text so urgent it required me to get off my bike and stand at the edge of a busy road. I did consider waiting for a bus to come thundering past so I could add dramatic effect to the picture, but you know what buses are like when you want one, and I couldn't trust myself not to get flattened at the same time.'

InvisibleWoman, we would, of course, rather you were alive to tell the tale than we caught a fleeting flash of bus.

Many contributors to this blog speak of feeling a bit of a chump as they take pictures of bedraggled fallen gloves in public. I understand this, but I believe you should think of yourselves as pioneers. They all laughed at Christopher Columbus [I am quoting George Gershwin here, or possibly his sister Ira] when he said the world was round. They all laughed when Edison invented sound.

But one day, when you're shame-facedly taking that picture, people will stop you on the street and say, 'Oh, you must be taking a photo for Miss Jones's blog. Not the main one. The other one she does when she fails to get round to posting anything on the first one and is trying to quickly make herself feel a little bit less shit about it.' And then you will laugh and shake hands and maybe go for a drink or fall in love. And man shall speak unto man – or woman – and nation shall speak unto nation and everything will go just a little bit better. Because of you. And – pardon my boldness – because of ME.

Barstruck

This, sent in by my friend Miss L, is another one to file under 'creepy'. I think it's the rusting window bars, which carry an air of gloomy orphanage.

Perhaps the owner of the mitten was planning a breakout and was well wrapped up in preparation, but at the point of escape was hauled back inside by a mean old matron. This sad striped number was left on the windowsill as a stark warning to anyone planning to do the same.

Found: on Arabin Road, Brockley, south London

Piccadilly Palava

This from my dear friend and occasional colleague, Ms B:


A sheepskin number spotted on our glorious underground network, in what I would refer to as a 'vomit corner'. Let's hope it escaped unsplashed from any late-night unwellness.

Found: Eastbound Piccadilly Line platform, Green Park station, London