The Tiger trap

There is a Tiger on the loose. It is stalking our high streets. It is prowling our train stations. It has cubs in every shopping mall. It is the Tiger of Tat. And when it roars, it roars: BUY. Tiger, a home accessories chain which opened its first UK shop in 2005, is an emporium of the ephemeral, a grand bazaar of the banal. Here is everything you never needed: oddments and sodments, party bits and barbecue bobs, plastic flotsam and cardboard jetsam. Come buy, come buy! Whoopee cushions and avocado stress-balls, spangled hula hoops and fingerless yoga mittens, cheerleaders’ pompoms and sequinned bow ties. There are walls of coloured playground ‘slime’, tubs of gunk in lurid colours.

Everything is something else. A Sellotape dispenser in the shape of a frog. A duckling nailbrush. A banana pencil case. A pineapple lamp. There are lid-lifters — when a wooden spoon won’t do — like warthogs, and spatula rests — who knew? — like sharks.