eight laundrettes

It began on an aimless walk out of Wigan on through Frimley, I found heaven on earth in the warm enfolding arms of the Washeteria. A perfectly preserved fascia, interior and machines, more by diffident neglect than good management. Signature wood effect and patterned Formica panelling, over earnest signs demanding the highest standards of personal … Continue reading eight laundrettes

Suds Laundrette – Levenshulme

We have entered a new age – the age of the A6 based computer generated A4 Blu-Tack attached laminated print out. An informal typography for the age of informality – long gone the etched plastic, hand rendered fascia days of yore. This is now one of many launderama dramas – my sole intent to record … Continue reading Suds Laundrette – Levenshulme

Laundrette – Welshpool

When walking the streets of Welshpool, one often finds oneself outside. Outside a launderette. I paused. The porch was decorated by the most enchanting mosaic, Vickery and Co. Hosiers, Hatters and Outfitters. Politely, ever so politely, I asked the two local lads if they would step aside from their porch perch one moment, I snapped. And … Continue reading Laundrette – Welshpool

Laundrette – Emlyn West Wales

You could be in the middle of nowhere. You are in the middle of nowhere. Though never six feet from a rat, or a mile from a main road. Moments away from a laundrette. Imagine my amazement, on arrival in a town straddling the border of the counties of Ceredigion and Carmarthenshire in west Wales and lying … Continue reading Laundrette – Emlyn West Wales

Laundrette – Rhayader

There is a sign. An Illuminated sign. There are signs. Handwritten signs – notices, instructions, scribbled hurriedly, underlined, highlighted, boxed for emphasis. Taped up. There are machines, top loaders, best left half empty. Terrazzo floor, leatherette banquette. Out of disorder comes out of order. Close the door when you leave

Ashton under Lyne – Laundrette

Cycling along Curzon Road one sunny Sunday afternoon, I found to my surprise, facing me across the Whiteacre Road junction. – An empty yet extant launderette. One lone drier tumbling, lonely – an absence of presence, save myself. The usual spartan interior almost unkempt, enlivened by four legged, almost alien, ovalish plastic laundry baskets. A sunlit shimmer … Continue reading Ashton under Lyne – Laundrette

Launderette – Hull

Whilst walking down Beverley Road I caught sight of of you out of the corner of my eye – my left eye. My beautiful laundrette: In this damn country, which we hate and love, you can get anything you want, it’s all spread out and available. That’s why I believe in England. Set back slightly from the road and … Continue reading Launderette – Hull