I don’t know about you, but when I was a kid I was convinced my toys came to life every time I left the room. I was so certain of it that I used to do things like measure how far from the edge of the shelf they were so that I could check whether they’d moved when I came back. I knew if I persisted I’d catch one of them out eventually. This plan was obviously flawed. It didn’t take into account mothers coming in to dust, little brothers coming in intent on destruction, and a cat that was not adverse to knocking over toys in her way as she patrolled the shelves.
Not that it mattered. I didn’t need the proof anyway. I knew.
Interestingly, I never put much thought into what they said to each other while I was gone. I think I just assumed they all spoke about me because…well…what else would they talk about? When you’re eight years old and the only girl in your entire family you just expect that everyone is as focused on you as you are yourself! Except for the Barbie dolls. I was certain all they did was have sex. Not that I really knew what sex was then, but I was sure that’s what they were doing together. Why else would Barbie need so many stilettos and evening gowns? And yes I did get my sex education from secretly watching midday television during school holidays.
ANYWAY – enough about how weird I was as a kid. That’s established fact. What I want to show you is the work of Aled Lewis, a designer, illustrator and author based in London who evidently spends his spare time nerding out over Star Wars and video games, and creating hilarious dioramas with oddly juxtaposed toys.
In 2013 he released a book of images (which you can get here if you want) with perforated pages and toys more temperamental than one of my Barbie dolls waiting for a call from her Ken.
These are some of my favourites:
All images taken from Aled Lewis website.