I remember when the circus came to town once a year. Posters glued to walls promised elephants, smithers of stamford fire breathers, acrobats — and always clowns. Looking at the trunk feels like it was there backstage, stuffed with costumes and props, waiting for the show to begin.<br>
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Trunks aren’t just places to keep things. They’re time capsules. Before plastic tubs filled every house, trunks were the way people travelled. Built solid, heavy duty, sometimes decorated with brass corners or painted lettering.<br>
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<iframe width="640" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7GbwGfYmz08" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen style="float:left;padding:10px 10px 10px 0px;border:0px;"></iframe>When I first stumbled across the circus clown trunk, I just stared. The hand-drawn clown staring upside down across the front felt like more than decoration. It felt like a memory <a href="https://find-and-update.company-information.service.gov.uk/company/09023413">smithers of stamford</a> a lost world — a travelling circus.
