Before health and safety became digital printouts, someone bolted this fire-engine red enamel sign to a factory gate in industrial Japan. The message—"Work in Progress, No Entry"—remains urgent after decades. The medium—porcelain enamel fired onto steel—was chosen because nothing else survived the chemical plants, shipyards, and construction sites that drove Japan's post-war economic miracle. This sign measures 9 × 30.5 centimetres, the compact format indicating it mounted on equipment or machinery rather than buildings. The Japanese text "作業中立入禁止" (Sagyōchū tachiiri kinshi) translates literally as "During work, entry prohibited," but the cultural subtext speaks to Japan's manufacturing discipline—the notion that active work zones demand absolute respect, that safety isn't negotiable. These weren't decorative; they were functional tools that saved lives. Porcelain enamel signage dominated mid-20th-century Japan because the medium outlasted everything else. The process involved fusing powdered glass to steel at extreme temperatures, creating a surface that resisted rust, chemicals, UV degradation, and physical abuse. Paint faded. Paper disintegrated. Plastic cracked. But enamel held its colour through typhoons, industrial solvents, and decades of neglect. This particular sign bears honest patina—surface rust at the edges where the enamel has chipped away, a gentle warping to the steel base suggesting it endured years bolted to vibrating machinery or exposed to temperature extremes. The red remains vivid, the white text legible, the functional purpose intact. For collectors of Showa-era industrial design, these signs represent an aesthetic intersection: utilitarian purpose meeting Japanese graphic sensibility. Notice the typography—bold, sans-serif, designed for instant recognition from distance or poor lighting. The colour choice wasn't arbitrary; red universally signals danger, cutting through visual clutter in chaotic work environments. Someone designed this sign with both urgency and restraint, balancing alarm with clarity. In contemporary European interiors, particularly loft conversions and industrial-chic spaces, authentic Japanese signage provides narrative depth that reproduction pieces cannot match. This sign carries actual history—it prevented actual accidents, witnessed actual industry. Mounted on exposed brick, steel beams, or concrete walls, it converses naturally with mid-century furniture, vintage industrial lighting, and collections of authentic ephemera. It's small enough to avoid dominating a space but distinctive enough to anchor a vignette. Condition reflects authentic use: the enamel shows age-appropriate chipping at corners and mounting holes, the steel base has surface rust, minor dents suggest impact history. This isn't museum-pristine; it's survivor-grade, which many collectors prefer—evidence the piece fulfilled its intended purpose before retiring to private collections. No structural damage compromises display; the mounting holes remain functional for wall installation. The market for authentic Showa industrial design has strengthened as collectors recognize these pieces won't be manufactured again. Modern safety signage uses printed plastic or vinyl—cheaper, disposable, designed for replacement. These enamel survivors represent a manufacturing philosophy that assumed longevity, that respected materials, that took signage seriously enough to fire glass onto steel. If you collect Japanese industrial design, post-war typography, or simply objects with genuine patina and purpose, this sign offers authenticity that reproduction cannot approximate. Shipping & Handling We ship worldwide via DHL or EMS with full insurance and tracking. Metal signage is wrapped in protective materials and boxed securely; combined shipping available for multiple wins. Local customs duties are the buyer's responsibility. Seller Guarantee We specialise in authentic Showa-era industrial objects and guarantee this sign's period authenticity. Questions welcome—we reply within 24 hours. 1096