Amongst our very few purchases at yesterday’s Christmas Fair in Newmarket was this set of greeting cards, which somehow epitomises the whole spirit of the event—old-fashioned (the Dad jokes genre), silly and light-hearted. While I was looking at Oliver Preston’s stall with its cards and other stationery (notebooks and the aforementioned tea towels), L. muttered that he had never heard the name of the artist. ”Yes, that’s me,“ someone next to us said, and that was indeed the author, Oliver Preston himself. Both L.and I felt a bit embarrassed, but Oliver chuckled and replied that it’s nothing and we are not obliged to know the names of all local artists at all. Yet we loved to learn of another one. And, of course, all his characters look exactly how we envisage an average middle class Brit—wearing tweed, a bit confused and slightly frustrated, paired with lovely dogs.
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