The Little World

It’s hard to be a classic glutton when you are trying to make a Little World. Food costs money – money that could be better spent on model kits, strip wood, and dollhouse furniture. Every triple-layer Massiveburger with extra cheese means a pot of paint foregone. A good night out with extra chips costs the same as an OO railway coach. Gluttonous modellers can only afford tiny dioramas.

Mind you, it doesn’t stop everything else hanging over the edge and chafing. Even on the ” buy-a-kit-a-week ” diet you tend to spread out after you hit 40. Wise modellers find a way to do part of the job standing up, and really wise ones do it while climbing stairs and doing burpees. Their freehand canopy painting is the shits but they end up having good looking legs.

Gluttony with liquor is also a no-no for Little Worlders. It destroys brain cells, complexions, and bank accounts. Even the heavy coffee drinkers suffer – you try doing ” N ” scale anything after three triple espressos. If the dinner table is dancing in your vision, what chance anything smaller and lighter?

As with any sin, take it moderation. Also do it over a washable surface. And throw the surface away after you wash it.

Special note: There are hobbyists who make a specialty of cooking tiny meals in dollhouse-sized stoves with tiny little pots and pans. They do not quail at baking, roasting, or frying and can then consume the miniature food with the correct knives and forks. it is utterly charming. Go try your luck on Google and see if you can find a YouTube of someone doing this.

One can also imagine the fun of making a scale kitchen that would support this. I am drawn to thoughts of the recent exhibition of Aardman animation props in Melbourne – Wallace and Gromit’s kitchen in particular.