Unsung icons: Street signs
Do their bossy bit around the house
If you’re under 30, the very idea of a street sign is fast approaching anachronistic territory. After all, you have a 5G machine in your pocket, which not only has all the world’s maps on call but can direct you between any two points via both a moving dot and voice commands. But for those of us who wouldn’t leave home without a Gregory’s or Melway guide in the car, they were crucial.
They were, in design terms, near faultless – a sublime blend of attention-grabbing form and function. They radiated a sense of utilitarian, semi-official cool, what with the combination of visiblefrom-a-long-way-off colour schemes and no nonsense fontery (okay, we know it’s not a word, but it should be).
All of this is, of course, a paltry justification for why as most every Australian home at some point had one of these metal numbers filched from a quiet street corner or his or her not particularly well-guarded building site. For a petulant teen just asserting their own identity and a furtive need for privacy, the stridency of a fair dinkum ‘No Entry’ or ‘Stop’ declaration was an undoubted step up from a handwritten A4 sheet. The fact that they somehow grated against your olds’ carefully considered colour scheme was just a slightly rebellious bonus. If you were especially light-fingered and wanted to make even more of a statement, ‘Wrong Way. Go Back’ let everyone know where they stood. Or at least on which side of the door.
Another popular iteration – especially in share houses that featured an international occupant or seven – was a black and yellow wildlife alert warning of the proximity of wombats (adorable), kangaroos
(drive very carefully), saltwater crocs (actually scared) or box jellyfish (now you’re making things up).
When it came to the specific names of streets, the cachet was kicked up a gear. There were several categories at play here, the first being the single entendre. Please forgive the puerility of the remainder of this paragraph but we are simply reporting facts: In Mount Gambier, council officials found they had to replace the Gooch Road sign with disturbing frequency, and in a family friendly publication such as this, we unfortunately can’t explain why. Perhaps you can ask your nephew at the next family gathering.
Meanwhile over in Perth, Cockman Road and Stoner Avenue got such a thorough seeing to that exasperated public servants had to remind wannabe thieves that they were in fact committing a crime. In Byron Bay, the council simply gave up replacing signs bearing the legend Parkway Drive – which also happens to be a local metalcore (again, ask your nephew) troupe – and simply etched the words onto the tarmac. Good luck with that one, vandals!
In addition to being somewhat adolescent, street signs could also be fetching additions to your living area. Particularly the older cast iron versions with raised letter that had been blistered and rust-licked by seasons too numerous to count. And if you lived on, say, Jacaranda Street, and had a sign that mirrored this, you were doing pretty well. And, honest, Ms Council Ranger, I just found it on the side of the road.
Street signs could also be properly sentimental. As we’ve upgraded, sea-changed, tree-changed or downsized, many Australians have sought to carry with them a souvenir of previous parts of their lives. And so, a sign could remind homeowners of the ‘insert avenue name here’ years where they perhaps were just starting a family or relationship, setting up a business in the garage, embarking on a first hands-on renovation or just finding their own aesthetic.
It’s this instance of sign plunder that perhaps resonates most. Hauled from suburb to suburb, city to city, country to country, they become more than mere typography or geographical references. Rather, they serve to remind just how far we’ve come. And in so many ways.
“IF YOU WANTED TO MAKE EVEN MORE OF A statement, ‘WRONG WAY. GO BACK’ LET EVERYONE KNOW WHERE THEY STOOD. OR AT LEAST ON WHICH SIDE OF THE DOOR”