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Yes, that’s a man in a kilt.

No, I don’t know why.

Ever since I bought my flat, I’ve been a little obsessed with rundown old buildings. I had to have work done on the roof; now I look for slipped slates everywhere. I spent a fortune replacing rotten windowframes; now I look for signs of damage all around me.

This place in particular breaks my heart. Whenever I pass it – and the scary old men who drink inside it aren’t standing at the doorway, smoking and swearing – I stop and gaze at it mournfully. Look at all the slates cascading down the roof. Look at the crumbling windowframes and the cracked panes of glass. I know it would cost a fortune to repair, but I also know it’s such a beautiful old building in such an important location that the owners would be hard pushed not to get grant funding for the work. I wish they would.

When I was about nineteen, I attended a surprise Significant Birthday celebration for my then-boyfriend’s aunt in the function room upstairs. There were sandwiches with the crusts cut off, balloons, excitable children, and countless drunken uncles asking me when I was going to be made an honest woman of. My then-boyfriend and I snuck off a little before midnight to watch Fight Club at a cinema which has now turned into a gym. But former cinemas could be a whole post unto themselves…

In the mean time, for beautiful shots of rundown buildings, take a look at The Kingston Lounge. If I was wealthy, I would buy so many of these prints.

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