By Amelia Tait
There is no way to say this without making you cringe with second-hand embarrassment (and possibly even pity), but as far back as I can remember I’ve wanted a slide in my house. Self-infantilisation is one of the ills that plagues 21st century society, but I’m not going to sit here and lie to you. Slides are good. They’re even better (I imagine) when they’re in your house.
Princess Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi had a slide — well, a fireman’s pole — that she slid down in the opening scene of the 2001 teen comedy The Princess Diaries. The book series that the film is based on was my favourite as a teen, though it was only years later that I finally visited San Francisco. I couldn’t leave without trekking across the city to take a picture outside Princess Mia’s fictional home — a 113-year-old San Francisco fire station.
I could pretend to love the converted fire station because of its striking burgundy and white wood-frame exterior and big curved doors. Or for its vintage interiors complete with green metal spiral staircase and gleaming 1950s O’Keefe & Merritt stove. But truthfully, I just spent twenty minutes on Pinterest to find the name of that stove, which I definitely didn’t notice as a child. There’s only one thing that’s captured my attention from then until now, and that’s the pole.
From a young age, I’ve fantasised about architectural gimmicks in domestic spaces — for this, I can thank the shortlived ITV series Home on Their Own. It is amazing to me that this is not widely regarded as the greatest television show ever made. Its premise is that parents are booted out of their house while their children redecorate. Two siblings gave their kitchen an “underwater” theme and covered the floor in sand. If memory serves, some kids set up a gun that fired ping-pong balls at their dad while he sat in his office. According to a YouTube commenter, a master bedroom was once transformed into a hamster cage.
And — burnt into my memory but sadly unverifiable anywhere on the World Wide Web — someone once installed a slide.
When people discuss their fantasy homes they often talk of solace, comfort, beauty — it’s all good stuff. I don’t know what it says about me that I want to bring the outside world in, not lock it out. Why should only outdoor spaces contain the thrill of being in a park or a fairground? Princess Mia not only has a pole but her very own sliding trap door, emblazoned with a big yellow smiley face. Why do slides and trap doors and secret passages have to remain the stuff of movies (and ITV shows from 2002)? I want them in my house!
Would I tire of sliding — would a slide eventually seem to me the same as a staircase? I imagine yes, but because imagining is all I can do (perhaps I should mention, I live in a flat) I’m going to say no. No, slide, I could never tire of thee. Down I go, again and again and again and again, in my dreams.
Photography: LMK Media; Walt Disney Pictures
The article has been amended to correct the name of the princess
