Where's Grandad?

Once, Ireland had Big Houses. Before they were set to the flame in the name of civilisation (or fell over for want of Big Incomes) every Big House contained a Small House. A Georgian mansion, fully furnished by minuscule furniture craftsmen.

Every little girl in Ireland wanted one of those Dolls’ Houses.

Eventually, those little girls became mothers to little girls of their own and were intent on making those dreams come true. Until they discovered (a) there is a reason Dolls’ Houses were found in Big Houses. They are fucking enormous. And (b) they cost all the money there is in the universe. It is possible Dolls’ Houses caused the fall of the Ascendancy classes, like front hinged Easter Island heads.

The solution: The Cardboard Dolls’ House.

Doll House Box

Folds away flat, it assures us. Check out those All Mod Cons decorative choices. Check out the grammatically mysterious promise; “A Charming House Any Child Will Wish To Own”.

Check out, above all, the gender neutral Child:

Dungarees are for everyone

The problem with replacing boring old wood with thrusting and modern laminated cardboard is that… well, let’s just say that entropy increases.

One Careful Owner.

The once verdant foliage has bleached to a cold and eerie blue. The roof, held in place with slots and tabs, sits askew on the building, speaking of a thousand indoor storms.  Even the upstairs windows are weeping at what time has wrought. But there is worse to come. There is the interior view.

The Old Murder DollsHouse

Oh Lord. This is where two generations’ dreams have gone to die.

(by Simon McGarr)