One day, going shopping in Islington, I passed a small shop that I had no idea existed. It was shut, but some china in the window caught my eye and, although I don’t know much at all about 19th century china, it hooked me sufficiently that I returned the next day. This time it was open and I was told that the china that had taken my fancy was some ‘gaudy welsh’. You may well have heard of it, but I hadn’t and it seemed an unusual use of the word ‘gaudy’, so I looked it up. It originally meant ‘brilliantly fine or gay, showy’ and although it has now come to have the sense of being overdone and tasteless, the original word immediately struck me as completely appropriate: the joy the artist had so obviously taken in the painting of the design made the tulips dance across the surface of the china.
It turned out that the shop was closing down that day, so if I hadn’t been so determined to go back the day after I had seen it, I would have missed my ‘gaudy welsh’; I took that as a sign and kept one piece for myself.