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I recently stumbled across these three youngsters in an East London warehouse. Just hanging around, like. At first I wasn’t sure what they were up to. They seemed to be guarding something.
As I got closer, I could see that they were protecting a cache of discarded pallets, which were scattered haphazardly around one corner of the warehouse floor. It appeared to be some kind of nest or ‘den’.
"Get away from our pallets," snarled one of the males as I approached. This fellow was dressed in a bright red Converse jumper, and sported a brand new pair of trainers at the bottom of his tiny legs. The shoes stayed on his feet throughout our entire encounter, even though he hadn’t tied the laces. Incredible.
"Yeah, don’t mess with my Darryl and his pallets," added a girl to his left, who clearly shared the same insouciance towards lace tying. Her legs were of a fairly normal length.
A third youth, who’d been on his hands and knees polishing the pallets, stood up to confront me. He’d clearly spent a lot of time on the floor, judging by the terrible holes in his jeans. He too wore converse trainers, but he’d had the good sense to tie them up with neat little bows. I thought perhaps he was the most sensitive of the trio.
The three stared down their noses at me. They clearly didn’t want me snooping around near their nest of pallets. I’ve seen lots of fake graffiti around Shoreditch showing how people wearing Converse shoes can concatenate into fearsome human chains, in order to ward off potential threats. I didn’t want any of that. Not a bit of it.
So I grabbed this cheeky photo and retreated. One day, I shall sneak back into that warehouse and see what they were up to. Are the pallets merely for transporting goods — perhaps Converse clothing? — or do they have some ulterior purpose?

I recently stumbled across these three youngsters in an East London warehouse. Just hanging around, like. At first I wasn’t sure what they were up to. They seemed to be guarding something.

As I got closer, I could see that they were protecting a cache of discarded pallets, which were scattered haphazardly around one corner of the warehouse floor. It appeared to be some kind of nest or ‘den’.

"Get away from our pallets," snarled one of the males as I approached. This fellow was dressed in a bright red Converse jumper, and sported a brand new pair of trainers at the bottom of his tiny legs. The shoes stayed on his feet throughout our entire encounter, even though he hadn’t tied the laces. Incredible.

"Yeah, don’t mess with my Darryl and his pallets," added a girl to his left, who clearly shared the same insouciance towards lace tying. Her legs were of a fairly normal length.

A third youth, who’d been on his hands and knees polishing the pallets, stood up to confront me. He’d clearly spent a lot of time on the floor, judging by the terrible holes in his jeans. He too wore converse trainers, but he’d had the good sense to tie them up with neat little bows. I thought perhaps he was the most sensitive of the trio.

The three stared down their noses at me. They clearly didn’t want me snooping around near their nest of pallets. I’ve seen lots of fake graffiti around Shoreditch showing how people wearing Converse shoes can concatenate into fearsome human chains, in order to ward off potential threats. I didn’t want any of that. Not a bit of it.

So I grabbed this cheeky photo and retreated. One day, I shall sneak back into that warehouse and see what they were up to. Are the pallets merely for transporting goods — perhaps Converse clothing? — or do they have some ulterior purpose?