The Limbo Connection's photos

Anne's life had changed so much that earlier worries concerning custody of the picnic hamper and the tidiness of the tent interior had been forgotten. All she had now was an old Start-Rite shoe box containing things she felt were somehow important: an old copy of 'Bunty' with its back page which featured a cut-out doll and paper clothes bearing a handwritten addition 'We are lesbians'. She could not remember who had written it. There were several old bus tickets with the words 'Send Your Parcels By Country Bus' printed on the back of a few. A small well-thumbed booklet about hygiene in adolescence had an obscene drawing scrawled on the back cover with the name 'Peter!' added underneath. There was an almost exhausted orange-coloured lipstick in a tarnished gold-coloured tube with a broken push-up slide. It had a pleasant smell. Stuck to an oozing bar of Highland Toffee was a ten-shilling note. They appeared to be inseparable. And there was The Photograph. Snapped at Lulworth using Julian's expensive camera it showed George wearing a one-piece swimming costume crouched down by a dripping Timmy and smiling broadly. George could no longer get away with wearing just boys' swimming trunks, which irked him occasionally. Anne gazed at it often wondering did she admire George because George masqueraded as a boy, or was it because she knew full well that George was a girl. It was a mystery with the answer as yet unrevealed.

Wednesday, 12th March, 2014. Mid-afternoon and a bright spring day, yet quiet considering that Wells is a favourite place for tourists. Too early in the year, with weather being unpredictable and plans better laid for later days.

A spooky experience in which a ladies' underwear model from the 1960s is discovered in a contemporaneous edition of a television guide aptly featuring a drama entitled "Haunted House". Wooo.

Photographed with a Nikkor 200mm f/4 AI lens on a Nikon D2Xs.

Women have a lot to put up with. It is surprising how many of them will accept this.

Peter Pan Foundations, Shepherd Street, Mayfair, London. 1966 'She' magazine advertisement. With some adaptations, including small ads from an 'Evening Standard' of similar vintage.

One of those rare occasions where Peter Pan Foundations meets the CND. Both of them prominent in their own way in the 1960s.

The Carl Zeiss Jena 50mm f/2.8 Tessar is a fine lens. Once I believed it was superior to the Praktica 50mm f/1.8, which also was manfactured in East Germany. But now I have revised and reversed my opinion. None of the foregoing has any relevance whatsoever to the photograph above.

The twitching of venetian blinds to see what is going on in the neighbourhood is not limited exclusively to those of retirement age.

They have been there, in the recesses, occasionally coming into view, then receding. Some are better remembered than others, but collectively they clamour for recognition, reorganisation, exposure, their moment in the limelight. It has come, at last.

This was photographed with an AF Zoom-Nikkor 28-80mm f/3.3-5.6G lens, a kit lens of unexpected optical ability, and inexpensive as well.

There are four bins I have to remember to put out at the correct intervals on their appointed days. Now there is a threat to introduce a fifth category of bin. All this is perplexing to residents of terraced houses letting out straight onto the footpath or street. Photographed in available light using a Fuji X-E1 with a Pentacon 50mm f/1.8 lens on an adapter.

She had escaped from that dreadful place which Julian had had her committed to. Timmy had been in touch, bringing a purse containing sufficient funds for a train ticket to Kirrin Halt. Anxiously she padded up and down the platform until the train arrived.

As we know, there are known knowns; there are women we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some women we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the women we don't know we don't know.