Growing up our kitchen always had a few quirky tea towels bought as souvenirs of some far-flung outpost in back-country Australia. Maybe we’d bought one on one of our family road trips when all six of us were all crammed into the old station wagon for hours and hours on end. Or maybe it had arrived in the post from one of our aunties along with a postcard. I miss getting those postcards…
New prints in time for…
