At pre-school age, I hadn’t understood how Tigermoth would influence me. One Sunday afternoon, after watching a television programme on the glorious First World War plane, I decided I was no longer Evelyn Paterson Mackay, but Tigermoth.
I announced it to the world. Well, to those gathered around the television at least. Mother ironing, father making his way through the Sunday Post, sister eagerly reading anything and everything that fed her thirst for knowledge , and brother John finalising his Airfix model, more inspired than ever to complete his task and keep it away from any ‘helping hands’.
My announcement was met with bemused responses and quickly dismissed. The following Monday, however, I set about establishing my new found identity. At the supermarket I said ‘hi’ to the check-out girl and to our lovely old gentleman neighbour Mr Campbell, announcing myself as Tigermoth.
My mother initially laughed it off, until while introducing me to an old friend in town, she became exasperated. ‘Stop it, your name isn’t Tigermoth. If you’re not careful it will stick!’ From that day, Tigermoth shrank back inside me. Still there, but hidden, just waiting to spread her wings and fly once more.
So when I am asked, ‘Why Tigermoth?’ I have a story to tell.
But to me Tigermoth is more than a cool name. More than a story and more than a half remembered TV documentary. It’s about discovery, innocence, long 70’s summers and of being so excited by a wonderful elegant aircraft that I wanted to embody it.
Come with Tigermoth on a journey to rediscover elegance, beauty, nostalgia and fun, wherever we find it.