GLOVE & HILARY

Aged twelve Hilary travelled with her family from her native Australia to Seville. Her father took her to a small family run shop where he’d always bought his gloves. He treated her to a red goatskin pair lined with rabbit fur. They were too beautiful to wear so she’d occasionally pull them out to look at but return them safely to the drawer where they lived. Five years later her dad died, the gloves became even more precious. At aged twenty two Hilary moved to England, she took the gloves with her and, prompted by the cold, began to wear them. She loved them even more as they softened with the patina of use. Travelling to Eastern Europe to visit her boyfriend she realised that she was missing one. After contacting the airport’s lost property she resigned herself to it’s loss. The single glove now serves no practical purpose but is an especially poignant talisman to her dad.

13 Feb 2011