Now you see him now you…hang on, is that? Yep a giant bunny in a smoking jacket who is theatrically drawing my portrait and grimacing at the fur collar of the girl standing next to me. ‘It’s mink!’ she frantically mimes through Wieden & Kennedy’s shop window on Hanbury Street. ‘Minks are bastards’ he mouths back.
I’m witnessing some of the day-to-day activity taking place outside Imaginary Friends, a rather bizarre shop front exhibition that takes me back to long days spent in the airing cupboard as an only child. Back then, my imaginary friend was a replica of the devilish dog that encouraged Tintin’s canine companion Snowy to do naughty things (don’t worry, no one else understood that either).
From now until Sunday your imagination takes the form of a wine glugging, abusive life size bunny rabbit (aka recent Central St. Martin’s graduate Jack Bishop).
I managed to catch him on a carrot break.
LJ: I say ‘carrot’ you say?
IF: Parrot? Ok it is the main component of one’s diet but I much prefer Beef Wellington. I shall not be marginalised.
L.J. Can you be taken for walks?
I.F. Of course I can darling. I’m imaginary after all, I can go anywhere you chose. Usually down the local.
L.J. Do you get along with cats?
I.F. So-so. We have a mutual respect for one another.
L.J. Do you breed well with Holland Lops?
I.F. Most definitely. Although my ideal breeding partner would have to be Jessica Rabbit.
L.J. Of course what a babe, got any celebrity bunny mates or rabbits in high hutches?
I.F. Well Harvey is a dear friend as we’re very alike. I used to be drinking buddies with Bugs but…(he drifts) he said a few things about me…said I drank too much. Lightweight.
L.J. Oh dear, well hopefully you’ll settle your differences over a good carrot or a nice seed selection. What are your thoughts on the following high-profile bunnies?
L.J. Peter Rabbit?
I.F. Wet lad.
L.J. Easter Bunny?
I.F. Fatty boy (all that chocolate).
L.J. Energizer Bunny?
I.F. Good Kid.
L.J. Nesquick Bunny?
I.F. He’s sold out. Such a shame. Corporate bastard now.
L.J. Got any plans for Easter?
I.F. (He humphs dismissively) I’m not the religious type. I’ll most probably be alone listening to Smokey Robinson and Sam Cook, drinking fine wines.
L.J. That sounds fun, I’ll be your friend if you want.
I.F. You fool! I can’t chose to be someone’s friend, I’m imaginary, they decide what I am to them, it’s annoying. Sometimes I feel degraded. I’d much rather be on my own.
With that he lolloped back down Brick Lane.
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