The first time I saw a toaster was in the early 2000s. I had a shitty job at a small advertising agency and was hungover about 98% of the time. The toaster was painted on the inside of a window between Old Street and Moorgate and it used to cheer me up on the way to work. The building looked sort of official and I always wondered how someone had managed to paint it there.
Over the years the toasters seemed to follow me around London. Stickers on tubes, lamp posts, escalator risers. The triptych on the 141 bus route on New North Road. The bright orange flash of toaster along Hackney Road. The flying toasters across the Four Vinters at the top of Kingsland Road that got badly painted over to form an ever changing canvas of Rothko-esk weirdness.
I haven’t seen a new toaster for ages, just the ghosts left behind by stickers and paint overs. I thought perhaps the toaster crew had got older and were now pretending to be grownups, like me. Then yesterday I was running the Parkland Walk and HELLO! This spanky new toaster sprayed under the railway arches. Like meeting an old friend, it made my day.