A day or two ago I stumbled on these - or rather, the pictures of them. I found the objects themselves at around Christmas-time, in the antiques centre on Topsham Quay - not possessing enough funds to buy them or anywhere suitable to put them, I had to settle with photographs alone.
The pig was perhaps one of the most satisfyingly chunky, realistic money-pigs, too heavy for me to shift - so perhaps it would be a perfect doorstop, or a cheeky swear-box, or a seriously safe place to keep a spot of cash, given that nobody would be able to run off with it in a hurry. Though I have to say I rather liked it in combination with the big grey flagstone floor it sat on, it could just as easily fit with bare oak floorboards...or atop a chunky plan-chest in a minimalist room...or at the side of a hearth, a quirky companion to a startled china dog missing its twin? The birdcage, admittedly, could be unashamedly shabby-chic, or a spot of classic English (fitting well with Topsham's creamy Georgian houses and airy estuary), with the prerequisite ribbon bows, and lollipopped bay trees, battered brown bear sitting inside it looking very affronted, with its posable limbs askew. Possibly. It seemed to work better amongst the dark dusty antiques, the garden shears, the flowerpots. This isn't, after all, a replica to be picked up for £10 in a modern boutique. Rather, it smacks of some durability; set off its sweetness against some bright taxidermy birds, or place it somewhere unexpected - a kitchen, an entrance hall. Indulge it as ornamental, certainly, but not as sickly sweet.
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