From Ships To Pubs: A London Story About Storage Chests

From OLD TWISTED ROOTS
Revision as of 12:44, 25 August 2025 by KrystleLeger680 (talk | contribs) (Created page with "When I first saw the circus clown trunk, I just stared. The red-nosed clown staring upside down across the front felt like more than decoration. It felt like a fragment of a lost world — an old fairground life. I remember when the circus came to town once a year. Posters glued to walls promised elephants, fire breathers, acrobats — and always clowns. Looking at the trunk feels like it was there backstage, stuffed with costumes and props, waiting for metal storage tr...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)

When I first saw the circus clown trunk, I just stared. The red-nosed clown staring upside down across the front felt like more than decoration. It felt like a fragment of a lost world — an old fairground life. I remember when the circus came to town once a year. Posters glued to walls promised elephants, fire breathers, acrobats — and always clowns. Looking at the trunk feels like it was there backstage, stuffed with costumes and props, waiting for metal storage trunk the show to begin. Old metal storage trunk boxes aren’t just places to keep things.

They’re pieces of history. Before plastic tubs filled every house, trunks were the way people travelled. Built solid, heavy duty, sometimes decorated with brass corners or storage trunk painted lettering.