I confess to a fascination for mannequins. Peckham often satisfies this particular interest, but with an added twist of zaniness. The model may have one leg, no legs or no torso. It may have a head but no hair. A mannequin might be perfect, except he has no arms. Still, he stands doing his job. Yesterday I spotted one of a child (headless) that I’d seen in an arcade months ago. She now stands in a different arcade, but wears the same polka dot dress. It was like seeing an old friend who had not changed with the passage of time.