Little did we think as we stuck posters to our bedroom, bedsit and halls of residence walls that we were initiating what would become a rite of passage and a marker of our progress through life. We thought our choice of poster said a little bit about ourselves and our similarity to or our differences from other tribes.
There wasn’t much choice, back in the day. Alberto Korda’s renowned photo of Che Guevara was a safe option, indicating right-on credentials.
Posters of Marcel Duchamp’s Mona Lisa with beard and moustache hovered on the borderline between being knowing and just following the herd. Van Gogh’s Sunflowers indicated a desire to be thought of as arty, while anything referencing Lord of the Rings screamed fey and fanciful and to be avoided.
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