I was 17 in 1971 and have to admit that by then we’d totally embraced, in fact probably kick-started, the craze for hot pants.
I had a button front pink gingham mini dress with hot pants underneath that my mum probably thought achieved an element of modesty. I’d have bought it from Martin Ford or Chelsea Girl in Sutton High St, with my wages as a Saturday girl in Woolworths. Footwear was those crippling wooden Dr Scholl sandals.
In fact, looking back I’m amazed that my parents managed to turn a blind eye to this ever-increasing exposure. Of course it was all about to change when I started nurse training in London and that was me wrapped up in starch for the next four years.
Wrapped up in starch! I love that, thanks for your wonderful comment, Grace.
Gingham definitely had a moment.
Chelsea Girl was my go-to for window shopping (or shopping if I had saved up enough) during the '70s. And yes, those Dr Scholl sandals were impossible to walk in.
Oh I loved them and had flowery buckles on mine. I wore the heels down to the wood and took them to the shoe menders for repair, but it was the regular slide off the side that did for me. Probably the cause of every foot issue I’ve ever had…weren’t they supposed to strengthen calf muscles or something?
They sound very fancy! I think they were supposed to develop your muscles, but I loved the coolness of the wood on my feet. How you wore they with tights, I can't imagine!
I remember having to travel up to London to the hospital sewing room to be measured for my uniform and cape which was ready and waiting for me on Day One. We felt like imposters for a while until we’d settled into the starched collars and once we’d got past the blistered neck stage.
Oh Grace, what memories! Luckily we had soft collars as students. However from our third year we had ‘strings’, starched ribbons of cotton running from underneath the cap to form a small bow under the chin, giving a wonderfully inflamed glow to the neck. We had to sew both caps and strings into an exact design (pleats in caps) trying not to leave blood droplets on the finished item, having struggled to repeatedly force a needle through the heavily starched flat pieces of material we started with. Sewing a cap was an early lesson once we arrived at the hospital. Our uniform dresses had a slight bustle at the back, to preserve modesty when bending, and were actually quite comfortable to wear, thank goodness.
We had strings caps in our final year but minus the strings! The front edge was goffered and yes, we had to gather the back edge with a running stitch into a sort of coxcomb contraption. Totally impractical, lot of white Kirby grips involved and serving no purpose other than tradition and indicating seniority. I look back with fondness at the discipline of uniform and hair off the collar etc. though.
I remember feeling so grossed out by Page 3, pretty much from puberty onwards. I loathed Benny Hill too, that horrible little man in the raincoat creeped me out. There are a lot of things about the 70s and 80s I miss, but the normalisation of female objectification is not one of them. These days, of course, lots of women objectify themselves for money (and worse). Yay, progress! (Sarcasm font enabled).
Oh the changes in covering up and baring all over the years!!! Before a trip to Egypt a few years ago, I found a black and white photograph of my husband’s uncle and aunt on camels. Not sure of the date 1930’s probably. He had on a smart suit, stiff shirt and tie, well polished brogues and of course a hat. She was in a suit, lyle stockings, heeled shoes, a hat and pearls!!! Surprisingly they looked quite comfortable on the camels in the heat. We recreated the picture with my daughter and son in law in modern dress on camels . T shirts and cotton trousers and trainers. So funny to compare the two.
That’s so funny, Harriet. Camel-riding fashions through the ages. But of course they would have been impeccably dressed in the ‘30s! Do you still have the photo?
"Dorothy’s underclothes seemed interminable" = perfection! Love your writing Wendy, and thoroughly enjoyed this adventure in covering and uncovering taking in the sights of everyday (terrifying) sexism along the route.
Just amazing writing, Wendy. I too remember as a child the excitement that a single pamphlet could illicit from a 10-year-old-me. I think that’s why I still love magazines.
And the fascination with your aunt in the half light. I remember staying with various aunts, and spotting their underwear on the top of the ironing piles. From the beige and functional to the Lacey and impractical. All the women in my family seem to have had ironing likes, apart from me, who still doesn’t know how to iron.
Thank you, Grace. I have no time for ironing, either, and would definitely never put underwear on the ironing pile.
Nobody in my family had lacy undies. The pulley was full of massive greying pants and vests!
Yes, as a child I was ever curious and hungry for anything to read and loved flicking through pamphlets, shopping catalogues and magazines (though my friend’s dad’s magazines not so much!).
Love this so much! Those boobs in the programme are rather racy, aren’t they? I’m imagining the printers like the real life Shadrack and Duxbury in Billy Liar (that ad should definitely be buried on the moors). As for your Auntie Dorothy, it reminds me of when I accidentally walked in on my gran putting her big pink bra on - I will never unsee it 👀
The hot pants competition! 🫣🫣🫣 I remember these types of things seeming like “all in good fun” at the time, but my god that makes me feel very uneasy now!
Great piece Wendy and being a little older than you I have a personal memory of hotpants. In 1971 my then girlfriend emerged from the front door of her house on an early date wearing hotpants. At 14 my flabber was very much gasted....
Hot pants. Even the name is wrong, in that very 1970s creepy man way. Liberty bodice wearer here too, also a baby doll nightie. I remember snuggling into bed with my grandmother and encountering the massive edifice of her corsets ("stays" in Scots), halfway down the bed, taken under the bedclothes to warm up the metal hooks and eyes (because: no central heating). Also the chamber pot under the bed - the "goesunder".
"Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep" hurtles me back to first year at secondary school.
It was a different age...I look back at the insistence at being covered up as a small child, even wearing a " Liberty bodice " at primary school, which was hideous, and no one else wore. And then being encouraged to wear things in my early teens that were totally inappropriate, even being given a baby- doll nightie! Another brilliant piece, Wendy, that I greatly enjoyed reading.
Oh yes, the Liberty bodice! I had one of those. And the baby-doll nightie was everywhere: TV sitcoms, Carry On films, my mum’s Grattan catalogue had many pages of them. Just the name makes me cringe now.
I was 17 in 1971 and have to admit that by then we’d totally embraced, in fact probably kick-started, the craze for hot pants.
I had a button front pink gingham mini dress with hot pants underneath that my mum probably thought achieved an element of modesty. I’d have bought it from Martin Ford or Chelsea Girl in Sutton High St, with my wages as a Saturday girl in Woolworths. Footwear was those crippling wooden Dr Scholl sandals.
In fact, looking back I’m amazed that my parents managed to turn a blind eye to this ever-increasing exposure. Of course it was all about to change when I started nurse training in London and that was me wrapped up in starch for the next four years.
Wrapped up in starch! I love that, thanks for your wonderful comment, Grace.
Gingham definitely had a moment.
Chelsea Girl was my go-to for window shopping (or shopping if I had saved up enough) during the '70s. And yes, those Dr Scholl sandals were impossible to walk in.
We’d slide off the side of the Dr Scholls which caused agonising pain across the arch of your foot, but still we clip-clopped on.
Am I the only one who adored my Scholl sandals? I loved the clip-clopping along and wore them 'til the wood began to splinter.
I just hobbled in them, Deborah. I couldn’t get any purchase!
I couldn't manage them either! Thank goodness for Birkenstocks now.
I think it was the act that the were wide enough for my feet (which were off the Clarks scale...)All my other shoes were absolutely hideous.
Oh I loved them and had flowery buckles on mine. I wore the heels down to the wood and took them to the shoe menders for repair, but it was the regular slide off the side that did for me. Probably the cause of every foot issue I’ve ever had…weren’t they supposed to strengthen calf muscles or something?
We wore them with tights too…don’t ask me how!
They sound very fancy! I think they were supposed to develop your muscles, but I loved the coolness of the wood on my feet. How you wore they with tights, I can't imagine!
This really made me laugh, Grace, because this was me too, including later being wrapped up in starch at a London Hospital !
I remember having to travel up to London to the hospital sewing room to be measured for my uniform and cape which was ready and waiting for me on Day One. We felt like imposters for a while until we’d settled into the starched collars and once we’d got past the blistered neck stage.
Oh Grace, what memories! Luckily we had soft collars as students. However from our third year we had ‘strings’, starched ribbons of cotton running from underneath the cap to form a small bow under the chin, giving a wonderfully inflamed glow to the neck. We had to sew both caps and strings into an exact design (pleats in caps) trying not to leave blood droplets on the finished item, having struggled to repeatedly force a needle through the heavily starched flat pieces of material we started with. Sewing a cap was an early lesson once we arrived at the hospital. Our uniform dresses had a slight bustle at the back, to preserve modesty when bending, and were actually quite comfortable to wear, thank goodness.
We had strings caps in our final year but minus the strings! The front edge was goffered and yes, we had to gather the back edge with a running stitch into a sort of coxcomb contraption. Totally impractical, lot of white Kirby grips involved and serving no purpose other than tradition and indicating seniority. I look back with fondness at the discipline of uniform and hair off the collar etc. though.
I do too.
A wonderful trip down memory lane, Wendy. Thank you.
Thanks, Susannah!
I remember feeling so grossed out by Page 3, pretty much from puberty onwards. I loathed Benny Hill too, that horrible little man in the raincoat creeped me out. There are a lot of things about the 70s and 80s I miss, but the normalisation of female objectification is not one of them. These days, of course, lots of women objectify themselves for money (and worse). Yay, progress! (Sarcasm font enabled).
Yup. Sarcasm detected! Topless Page 3 ran from 1970 to 2015. Now we have the naked red carpet dress.
Oh the changes in covering up and baring all over the years!!! Before a trip to Egypt a few years ago, I found a black and white photograph of my husband’s uncle and aunt on camels. Not sure of the date 1930’s probably. He had on a smart suit, stiff shirt and tie, well polished brogues and of course a hat. She was in a suit, lyle stockings, heeled shoes, a hat and pearls!!! Surprisingly they looked quite comfortable on the camels in the heat. We recreated the picture with my daughter and son in law in modern dress on camels . T shirts and cotton trousers and trainers. So funny to compare the two.
That’s so funny, Harriet. Camel-riding fashions through the ages. But of course they would have been impeccably dressed in the ‘30s! Do you still have the photo?
"Dorothy’s underclothes seemed interminable" = perfection! Love your writing Wendy, and thoroughly enjoyed this adventure in covering and uncovering taking in the sights of everyday (terrifying) sexism along the route.
Thank you, Claire. Yes, so much sexism that it went almost unremarked. But looking back, wow!
This was hilarious - Pan's People!! Haven't thought of them for years. Thanks for this honest and amusing backwards glance at the way we were lol!
Thanks, Sue! Glad you enjoyed! I adored Pan's People.
Loved reading this. And recognised the lighthouse before reading the caption.
Ah, of course you would recognise the lighthouse, Keris! Thanks so much.
I think Enjoy the Gala but do Take Care is going to be my motto going forward...
Glad to have brought you that life advice, Anna!
Love this charming look into the past (also some of the sexist issues of it but still… 🤣). 🫶🏻
Thank you, Elaine, and thanks for sharing.
Oh dear, hot pants. Another great (& thoughtful) post, Wendy.
Thank you, Gillian. Glad you enjoyed it!
Just amazing writing, Wendy. I too remember as a child the excitement that a single pamphlet could illicit from a 10-year-old-me. I think that’s why I still love magazines.
And the fascination with your aunt in the half light. I remember staying with various aunts, and spotting their underwear on the top of the ironing piles. From the beige and functional to the Lacey and impractical. All the women in my family seem to have had ironing likes, apart from me, who still doesn’t know how to iron.
Thank you, Grace. I have no time for ironing, either, and would definitely never put underwear on the ironing pile.
Nobody in my family had lacy undies. The pulley was full of massive greying pants and vests!
Yes, as a child I was ever curious and hungry for anything to read and loved flicking through pamphlets, shopping catalogues and magazines (though my friend’s dad’s magazines not so much!).
Love this so much! Those boobs in the programme are rather racy, aren’t they? I’m imagining the printers like the real life Shadrack and Duxbury in Billy Liar (that ad should definitely be buried on the moors). As for your Auntie Dorothy, it reminds me of when I accidentally walked in on my gran putting her big pink bra on - I will never unsee it 👀
Thanks, Lucy, so glad you enjoyed it and thanks for the share.
Haha, yes! If that was their advertising pitch I can imagine what the printers had pinned up on their office wall.
Gran’s big pink bra. Oh Lord!
I'm not sure that any form of fashion ever reached my corner of Devon, but I do remember Pan’s People on TOTP.
Yes, I’m sure everyone in Britain knew who Pan’s People were, Jeffrey. They had massive influence over a generation! I loved them!
The hot pants competition! 🫣🫣🫣 I remember these types of things seeming like “all in good fun” at the time, but my god that makes me feel very uneasy now!
Exactly, Sara. Perspectives change and it gives me the ick.
Great piece Wendy and being a little older than you I have a personal memory of hotpants. In 1971 my then girlfriend emerged from the front door of her house on an early date wearing hotpants. At 14 my flabber was very much gasted....
I can imagine the impact, Harry! Thanks for your comment. Good to connect here.
Hot pants. Even the name is wrong, in that very 1970s creepy man way. Liberty bodice wearer here too, also a baby doll nightie. I remember snuggling into bed with my grandmother and encountering the massive edifice of her corsets ("stays" in Scots), halfway down the bed, taken under the bedclothes to warm up the metal hooks and eyes (because: no central heating). Also the chamber pot under the bed - the "goesunder".
"Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep" hurtles me back to first year at secondary school.
Thanks for this, Linda. We have so much in common. And I am struggling to get Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep out of my head since writing this!
It was a different age...I look back at the insistence at being covered up as a small child, even wearing a " Liberty bodice " at primary school, which was hideous, and no one else wore. And then being encouraged to wear things in my early teens that were totally inappropriate, even being given a baby- doll nightie! Another brilliant piece, Wendy, that I greatly enjoyed reading.
Thanks, Deborah.
Oh yes, the Liberty bodice! I had one of those. And the baby-doll nightie was everywhere: TV sitcoms, Carry On films, my mum’s Grattan catalogue had many pages of them. Just the name makes me cringe now.
It makes me shudder too…As for the liberty bodice you are the only person I know that knows what one was! I used to swelter in the wretched thing.
I was a fellow sufferer, Deborah. I remember the rubber buttons, and the tabs for attaching suspenders!
I had forgotten the rubber buttons…I had to wear a vest too. There was no chance of me getting a chill!