From Ships To Pubs: A London Story About Storage Chests

When I first laid eyes on the circus clown trunk, I just stared. The painted face staring upside down across the front felt like more than decoration. It felt like a memory of a lost world — a carnival gone by. Chests aren’t just wooden boxes. They’re time capsules. Before suitcases rolled through airports, trunks were the way people travelled. Built solid, art station portfolio heavy duty, sometimes decorated with brass corners or painted lettering. I still think about when the circus came to town once a year.

Posters glued to walls promised elephants, wooden storage trunk fire breathers, acrobats — and storage trunk always clowns. Looking at the trunk feels like it was there backstage, stuffed with costumes and props, waiting for the show to begin.