The Lion, the Witch and my Wardrobe

When you’re an adult, a wardrobe is just a piece of furniture. It’s somewhere to hang your clothes and store boxes of old photographs from when you were young and energetic, not to mention packing a full set of hormones. To a child, however, it’s a porthole into another world especially if they’ve read (or seen) The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe..

The plot, of course, is that four children are evacuated from London in World War Two and sent to live with a professor who lives in a large country house with big wardrobes. The youngest child, Lucy, has a root round the Prof’s house and finds a wardrobe which also happens to be a portal to a magical land called Narnia. Having pushed past all the moth-balled infused fur coats, she wanders out into a forest where there is a lamppost. Here she meets a dodgy looking bloke who invites her to his house for tea (always say no, kids) but it turns out that this bloke, Tumnus, intends to betray her to Narnia’s resident evil overlord known as ‘the White Witch’. The White Witch has ruled over Narnia for, like, ever, keeping it in a permanent state of Winter. This is to keep the Narnians in their place though it may be due to a bad case of hayfever she had once, who knows? Anyhoo, old frosty chops has an intense dislike for humans so the Narnians are under orders that, should they happen across one of the blighters, they are to turn them in or she’ll start removing fingers/claws/whatever. Tumnus is well up for a bit o’ betrayal in the beginning but changes his mind when he realises he likes Lucy. Oops! Now he feels proper shit that he wanted to hand her over to the Refrigerated One so he does the decent thing and takes her back to the lamppost which is where it all goes tits up. You know how it goes…

When I was about 8 years old, Mum and Dad bought a wardrobe for my room, well, actually it was a combi-robe which was a combined unit of a mirror, shelves, drawers and a single wardrobe. However, to me, it was more than a piece of furniture..

I liked to sit in my wardrobe.

There, I’ve said it. It’s out there.

Thing is, I used to feel safe in there, especially if it had been a bad day at school.

It was a confined space, even for me who was of Borrower proportions, but I could sit in my little wardrobe, close the door, and cry it all out..

I was also familiar with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by then, having read the book and seen it on TV so I would re-enact it because my imaginative play was always about acting out what I’d seen in life or on TV.

The concept of a magical world being accessible from inside my wardrobe fascinated me. What would I have given for it to be true? Only, in my magical world, evil witches wouldn’t be allowed because there was one of those at school masquerading as a teacher.

A few years later we moved house and two things stopped me throwing the MOTHER of all meltdowns. One was the promise of the new Adam and the Ants LP and the other was the walk in wardrobe in my new bedroom. Never mind sit down, I could go horizontal in this one. WOOHOO! The wardrobe also had pretty brass knobs on which I liked to mess with..

One of my favourite wardrobes, EVER, was my Nan and Grandad’s because it was JUST like the wardrobe in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and yes I did shut myself in it until the whiff of moth balls put me into a coma, Not sure about Narnia but I did find a nice clasp-handbag filled with various corn plasters and a few furry Polo mints..

It was easier to re-enact the story in an 1800s Gloucestershire house than in my 1960s built bedroom. More authentic. Well, as authentic as it can be until your mum walks in and bollocks you for ‘rooting’ through your Nan’s things!

I’m not sure how old I was when I finally stopped sitting (not a typo) in wardrobes. No doubt marriage and motherhood left me with little time to indulge my love of wardrobe interiors. Also, they were jammed full of cricket paraphernalia, old shoes and other such crap that builds up when one has to share their life with another human being.

Then there was that incident where one of the kids mistook their wardrobe for the toilet. *shudders*

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Narnia existed though, eh? Without the resident bitch, of course.

How fabulous would be to have a really shit day and declare, ‘SOD IT. I AM OFF TO NARNIA!’ Though knowing my luck (and tendency for catastrophic thinking) I would most likely step out into the forest and be instantly mauled to death by a psychotic beaver..

Maybe I’m too old for sitting in wardrobes, but I will never be too old to revisit Narnia via the book..

See you there?

“I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand a word you say, but I shall still be your affectionate Godfather, C. S. Lewis.”

C. S Lewis ~ The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Creative Commons Image Via Pixabay








9 thoughts on “The Lion, the Witch and my Wardrobe

  1. I used to sit in my wardrobe all the time. Hide and seek wasn’t a strong point.

    But I’d also hide in there if I didn’t want to go somewhere. Like church. Or Cubs. Thinking my mum would peep round the door, not see me and assume I’d gone out so leave without me. Her 7yo son!? I still remember thinking, “she’ll think I’m at school”. On a Sunday morning?!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I used to try and avoid going to Sunday School too. Didn’t like it and my tights always wrinkled up like Nora Batty’s. Ooh I’m having flashbacks lol


  2. What a lovely relationship you had with the wardrobes in your life, never even thought of them like that! In fact, I would need a dust mask to cover my mouth & nose, inches of dust at the back of the wardrobe, rubbish stuff on the floor on it. As you can tell, no designer clothes hanging in mine, M&S, Next and the probably some supermarket clothes…….I’m not selling myself well here am I ….. 🙈
    Also, Narnia scares me a bit, being away from my Dad & Mum who looked after me would have been awful but I understand why escapism from your worries and anxieties would give you relief Tracy ❤️
    I reckon you need to draw a design and contact Ikea, I bet there’s a niché in the market for Narnia wardrobes 😍
    Big loves 😘💞xxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    • I bet your wardrobe is spotless lol. You too posh to be dusty. 😉 I also use a wardrobe in my relaxations only I walk through it onto a beach or some moors. I like and dislike my mind in equal measure lol. Lufs you m’dear xxxxxxx


  3. The Great Sound of the Stone Table
    The point in the aural text of “The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe” when the cracking and crumbling of the stone table, it gives off a sense that a big event is going to happen. Then the cracking is followed by complete silence. After the silence is there, the idea that there is this feeling of intensity among the scene. Not a sound is heard as the next event will commence. The silence gives the readers something to keep listening to as the next series of sounds and music will commence. This scene is important because it is when the true magic will be explained and people get a sense about the true purpose of the stone table.

    This is my favorite part of the aural text in the aural text of the lion the witch and the wardrobe.

    Liked by 1 person

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