The iconic phone box

I'm old. So old that I have plenty of memories of standing in a yellow "Telefonzelle" (literally "phone cell") for a phone call, either because I didn't want anyone to listen in at home - calls to my boyfriend - or because I was out and about. Yes, so old that I spent half of my life without a cell phone.
Not all of those memories were good ... like the time I called the ex to tell him I flunked my first driving test. Others were weird ... like the time I had a kind of party line effect and one person didn't understand that I had not even called them.

I remember the times when there were no telephone cards and you could only pay with coins, even those when a local call was really cheap even if you talked longer than a few minutes.
At the time, you could still see the coins you put in run down the chute behind a little window. Making an international call made your money disappear faster than ice in hot water.

That brings back memories
although my very first ones are
of black phones.

The wrong telephone model, but
the right phone box (on the right).
Picture by Juergen Rosskamp,
 CC BY-SA 2.0 DE 
via Wikimedia Commons

The title, however, may give you an idea of "the iconic phone box" (hint: not calling it phone booth) I really want to talk about.
It's of course the British phone box in red - the K series from K1 to K8 (K standing for kiosk).

K2 and K6 (the most common model) telephone
 boxes in Smithfield Market
Picture by Mike Quinn, CC BY-SA 2.0,
via Wikimedia Commons

As you can tell, however, it's not a Random Saturday post which is a sign that I'm not going to talk about its history in detail.
Instead I'm going to show you my latest Lego project.
I've had the set around since October 2025 and there's a reason why I had completely forgotten about it until now.
Now it was high time, however, to get the (Lego) box off the floor and the (phone) box on my shelf.
At least, I kept telling that myself for a few weeks. Until we had a partial power failure in the house. To distract myself during waiting for either a technician fixing it remotely or having to come to us to check it out, I finally grabbed the box and started.
Two days later, they found the problem hadn't been solved and turned the power off for repairs (actually the whole block had been affected). So cut off from everything (except contact via my 18 year old cell phone which was charged for a change), I managed to keep going. Silver linings, eh?

This phone box is based on the K2 kiosk.
There were telephone kiosks even before the K1 which was made from concrete with a teak door.
Only with the K2 which was designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott (like the cheaper K3 and later the K2 successor K6) and chosen by the GPO (Post Office) out of five models in 1925, phone boxes got their red color.
The first K2 was erected in Charing Cross Road 100 years ago - in March 1926 -, the others were set up mostly in London as it was a costly design.
Today, around 200 of them still exist and are listed Grade II (buildings etc. of special interest in a national context).
If you are interested in more details, check out the article cited below.

It almost took me 100 years to build the kiosk, at least it felt like it - all my own fault too as I had to bring in the wrecking ball more than once to fix a few very stupid mistakes. But hey, I have those inexplicable bouts of patience and determination, just ignore the bite marks in the bench and the tears on the phone box, please 😜

I love the fence, it reminds me of some in front of
houses in my old neighborhood which I loved even as a child.

Detail views

K2 interior for comparison
Picture by Murgatroyd49,
CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The phone box has a light brick. You press a button on top of the kiosk
and it lights up. It was hard to press the button and take a good picture
of the whole kiosk in the dark at the same time, but you get the idea.

It will look really good next to my London bus, don't you think?


Source and further reading (very interesting article):

Nigel Linge, Neil Johannessen, Andrew Hurley, Andy Simmons & Andy Sutton: Sir Giles Gilbert Scott’s K2 Telephone Kiosk — A Design Classic. In: Industrial Archeology Review, 46, 2024, 2, pp. 87 - 98. DOI 10.1080/03090728.2024.2410137 (open access)

Silent movies - A trip to the moon

1902 was a good year. My grandmother was born which also made me possible and therefore this post, and Richard Steiff designed their first teddy bear, the PB 55 (I'm not going into the discussion who invented the teddy).
And it also was the year for "Le voyage dans la lune" to come out, in English known as "A Trip to the Moon".
It's incredible 15 1/2 minutes long which was quite long, practically feature-length for those early days of film.
What's happening, you may think, so much for attention span! Is she already getting tired? Will the next one be even shorter? Let's say that's not the plan, but you never know what happens.

Not only does this film takes us to yet another genre, science-fiction, and is regarded to be the first one in it, but it's iconic - in fact it's where it all began.
Of course that doesn't mean it's the first movie ever as we all know, but those coming before were short documentations of everyday life, such as the famous train arriving at a station, by the Lumière brothers.
Enter the stage - Georges Méliès.

Public domain via Wikimedia

Méliès was born into a wealthy family, his father had a high-quality boot factory. When he was sent to London for work and to improve his English, visits at the Egyptian Hall sparked his passion for stage magic which didn't stop when he returned to Paris. After his father retired, Méliès sold his share to his brothers, bought a theater, and began creating illusions of his own.
Attending a private demonstration of the Lumière cinematograph led to Méliès buying an Animatograph film projector and modifying it into a film camera. Unlike the Lumières, however, who wanted to save the medium for scientific and historical study, he used it to bring his magic and special effects such as the stop trick or superimposition - which he also often invented himself -  onto the screen and to cater to the fairground and music hall crowd. He also often acted in his own films.
Unfortunately, his career declined over the years due to problematic deals which finally led to his ruin, so he had to earn his livelihood at a candy and toy stand. Even after his work was rediscovered and appreciated again, his financial situation did not improve until his death.

Back to our moon trip.
The story is told rather quickly as early Méliès films didn't have an elaborate plot.
A group of scientists - looking more like wizards with their pointy hats and robes - fly to the moon in a space capsule launched by a cannon and with a military group of ladies in shorts (that would have reminded me of the shorts we wore to sports in school in the early 70s if they had been black) cheering them on.

Even if you don't know the film, you probably know this picture, the Man in the Moon hit in the eye by the space capsule (we never learn if he has recovered from this traumatic incident; also I can never help being reminded of the moon from The Mighty Boosh which simply must have been inspired by this one).

The scientists get out, watch the Earth rise, and fall asleep missing the celestial and magic scene above them until they get woken up by snow.

They explore the fantastic moonscape until they meet the moon's natives, kill some of them - at least that's how I interpret them going up in smoke -  but finally get captured.
They manage to escape and run back to their capsule followed by natives with big spears.

Are you confused by the mix of black and white and color
in the screenshots? We'll be getting to that.

They kill some more, but one of them jumps on the capsule before the scientists leave the moon and dive into the ocean. The space capsule is towed back by a ship and the scientists, showing off the native who miraculously survived the fall as well, are welcomed home enthusiastically.

The movie was inspired by Jules Verne and H. G. Wells books. Humankind has always been fascinated by the moon and there are many tales woven around it, new and old ones, so I'm not surprised Méliès liked the idea of going to the moon and find it filled with wonders.
I'm not sure how much his scientists really appreciate that thought, however. As mentioned in one blog, "film historian Matthew Solomon points out that Méliès' 1890s political cartoons mocked militant nationalism and bullying colonialism". I think it's safe to say that the wizardy costumes already show that Méliès didn't take them too seriously, also the professor (played by himself) simply draws an arrow from Earth to Moon and off they go where no man has gone before. Who even designed the capsule? They more or less just stand in the way when it's being built.
Then, instead of doing some serious exploring, they immediately get distracted by a moon native, start killing a few, escape, kill some more and shove off, only to show off the one native they brought home in a very undignified way.
Sounds rather familiar, doesn't it, especially for a time when there were still "human zoos".
And for those who didn't notice that, it was just fun, whimsy, and magical.

Méliès had some of the prints hand colored - that explains the screen shots, you can see the movie in black and white here or the colored version here - and one of those was found in Spain in 1993 and restored which took years. There's a documentary about it which I haven't seen (yet), but would love to.
Hand colored means someone actually painted frame by frame. The sets themselves had been painted in black and white for better contrast in the film.
Try both versions and see what you like better. I think here the colors add to the magic and dreamy mood.

The film was a success with the audience. Unfortunately, that also contributed to it being heavily pirated in the USA (yes, Edison was included, too) and imitated which resulted in big profit losses for Méliès who had not only put a lot of time, but also money into it.

If you are interested in the medium film at all, give this a try (and the two videos in the sources which tell you more about the film, but also the man behind it). It's worth it.

Sources:
1. A Trip to the Moon: Film History #1. On YouTube, channel "A Matter of Film"
2. The Father of Special Effects: Georges Méliès. On YouTube, channel "This is Barris! - French History"
3. Fritzi Kramer: A Trip to the Moon (1902): A Silent Film Review. On "Movies Silently", March 29, 2015
4. Daniel Stride: Review: A Trip to the Moon [Film] (1902). On: A Phuulish Fellow, July 19, 2020
5. Dan Stalcup: Review: A Trip to the Moon (1902). On: The Goods: Film Reviews, November 20, 2020