Is it right to assign the name 'ghost sign' to something that has been deliberately disinterred? Where the traces of yesterday, accidentally preserved elsewhere, merge with retrostalgic acts of preservation? I guess peeling back layers of paint and preserving a formerly superseded image, as in below, is a kind of archaeological kindness, a kiss of life for the formerly dead and buried.
Today I found and snapped the two shops below. The first shopfront, now a French pâtisserie, is fittingly located opposite the cemetery in Nicholson Street, Carlton. The second - the remains of the milkshake - is also in Carlton and is also a café. (The kids hanging out in the pic are my two. They would have have loved the shop's former offerings):