The ‘C’ word has been slouching towards the front of everyone’s mind for a while now, given that the festive season begins these days at, or before, Halloween.
As our photo from 1959 shows, a Christmas shopping rush is nothing new. But it also shows that in the old days, it used to happen in the days leading up to Christmas. This photograph was taken on O'Connell Street a mere six shopping days before Christmas. (As opposed to 33, which is how many are left right now, in case you're wondering.)
The picture is a suitably seasonal miracle. At first glance it’s the sheer number of pedestrians that impresses itself on the viewer, beautifully captured by the wide angle, but given depth by the view along an almost equally crammed Abbey Street – instantly recognisable from the signs for Mooney’s wines and Madigan’s Pub – which runs at a diagonal away into the distance.
Look a little longer though, and individual stories begin to emerge from the throng. In the centre of the shot, beneath the sign offering “Prams linos carpets”, is a woman whose finely chiselled face is shadowed by shop-until-you-drop exhaustion.
On the left, two women – mother and daughter, maybe, or sisters – hurry across the road in a blur of anxiety. Just behind them, two ladies in headscarves link arms, engrossed in conversation and oblivious to the uproar around them.
To their right, a tall man in a tightly belted overcoat is as solemn as if he were at a funeral. Is he a shopping spy? Or just worrying about what he’s going to get for his mammy this year?
The whole picture is an intricately woven tapestry of such miniature dramas. It’s better than a film: I could look at it for hours.
