Toy Boy
Paul was Sindy's boyfriend for just two years in the mid-1960s. What can he teach us about the life and times?
If you want a clue about what girls and boys were aspiring to when I was a child in the mid-1960s, look no further than the Sindy and Paul toy brochures salvaged from the attic at my parents’ home after they died. (My mum kept everything!)
Sindy was launched by UK company, Pedigree, in 1963 as the duffel-coat and flats-wearing “girl next door” competitor to Mattel’s glamorous, high-heeled Barbie. She quickly became the most popular dress-up doll in Britain.
Thanks to Greta Gerwig’s 2023 hit movie, Barbie, the world has been reminded that Barbie and Ken have been hanging out together their whole lives (he was launched in 1961, a year after her). Sindy’s boyfriend Paul, though, introduced in 1965, was jilted after just two years. Despite a hasty makeover to give him hair in place of a moulded plastic “do”, he wasn’t exciting enough to capture the public’s imagination. His brief appearance in Sindy’s life gives us insights into the fashions and the times.
Paul was apparently named after Paul McCartney of The Beatles, and described as a “freewheeling lad” with the “type of wardrobe every girl would like her boyfriend to wear”. Unlike your typical boy next door, some of his outfits were designed by Hardy Amies, dressmaker to Queen Elizabeth II. Mind you, he wasn’t always so dapper. His string undies1 were just like my dad’s!
His and Sindy’s lifestyles might have been less glam than Barbie’s and Ken’s, but they were still a million miles away from my working class Yorkshire heritage. Sindy and Paul have casual dates at coffee bars? In the mid-60s the “coffee” I knew was the fake kind, Camp liquid chicory essence. Paul takes Sindy to a show? The only show I’d been to as a child was the local panto.
Skiing? No-one I knew did that. Anyone who holidayed abroad was considered dead posh. And water skiing? Don’t be daft.
Paul’s “Motorway Man” outfit (below), flask and mug included, reflects the sudden exoticism of long-distance driving, as the M1 motorway linked up London in the South of England with Leeds in the North. I remember a junior school outing in 1967 to see the M1 being built (Junction 36, just south of Barnsley).
What kind of career might Paul have? We learn he’s a medical student (accessories: germ mask, stethoscope and a skeleton for physiology lessons). And Sindy? Sindy is (surprise) a nurse or an air hostess, not a trainee doctor. She wears frilly undies, she enjoys tennis and pony club, and she keeps on top of the housework.
Just look at that Washday Set (below)! She has an impressive trunk to store her clothes in when she goes on holiday, but there’s no way it would fit inside her tent, or the boot of her car. She enjoys trying on outfits with friends.
Her kid sister, Patch, owns a pony. I got one for Christmas, much-cherished. In real life, I was horse mad, but only ever had one riding lesson. My friend Vicki had Sindy’s bedroom set. I coveted the dressing table. We’d meet up to play with our dolls together.
Sindy rides a very cool scooter and owns a red sports car. My family didn’t have a car until I was 10 (a quirky bubble car we all crammed into, which you can read about here). As for taking to the road myself, I finally passed my driving test when I was 30, on the fifth attempt.
I pored over the Sindy and Paul brochures as a child, and I loved every minute of it, dreaming of what was out of reach. Here’s the tantalising Sindy advert that ran on TV:
Very predictably for the times, my older brother got Lego, Meccano and Airfix sets. The only interest I remember him showing in dolls was when he ran off with my treasured rag doll when I was a toddler and left her in a puddle so her painted face washed off. I was distraught.
I was adamant when my own children were little that toys would be toys, with no assumption that girls would play only with dolls and boys only with construction kits. I try to keep the same attitude with my grandchildren and follow their lead.
Did you own a Barbie or Sindy as a child? How about Ken or Paul or Action Man? Did toys have an impact on your life? Do please comment below if you’re able. I love to hear your thoughts.
Motherwell by Deborah Orr
Kind of related in theme, I’ve been enjoying journalist Deborah Orr’s terrific memoir, Motherwell: A Girlhood. Orr died from cancer in 2019 aged 57 and her memoir was published in 2020.
She grew up in a working class family in Motherwell, a steel-making town just outside Glasgow. She describes vividly what was expected of boys and girls in the 1960s and ’70s and how her parents found it hard to accept that she wanted to break with convention. For a girl to want a career that wasn’t teaching or nursing was seen as very “uppity”.
It’s a brilliant exploration of narcissism, keeping up appearances, and the history of an industrial region adjusting to a post-industrial age.
There are parallels with my own South Yorkshire childhood, where mining and steel were the local industries, so it really struck a chord.
My piece last week, How I’ve Grown Older With My Choir, was a guest post for
, which I cross-posted for my subscribers. I realised afterwards that Substack gremlins meant not all of you had received it. My apologies. If you missed it last Wednesday, please do read it here:
Choir latest: we sang last Friday at the funeral of a choir member who died after a long illness. It was so moving, especially when one of the sopranos who’s recently had a baby, joined us at the end with her tiny daughter in arms, to sing The Circle of Life from The Lion King. I’m very glad I had a tissue up my sleeve.
Thanks to everyone who took time to comment on the choir piece, and also to those of you who responded to the previous week’s post about appointment television. So many reminders of must-see programmes of years gone by. And of how influential soaps were. Lee remembered when Neighbours was first shown on BBC1 in 1986:
“Neighbours was broadcast at lunchtime, only after a few months so many teenagers were bunking off from school to watch Neighbours the TV Network was forced to start replaying each episode at 6pm to get the kids back in school.”
Clicking the heart, sharing and/or commenting below all helps other people find my work.
If you’ve enjoyed reading and aren’t already a subscriber, please do sign up. At the moment, nothing on Wendy’s World is behind a paywall. I really appreciate some of you opting for a paid subscription to support my writing, or popping something in the tip jar. Free or paid, though, I’m delighted to be sharing my writing with so many people!
Until next time!
© Wendy Varley 2025
For more Sindy and Paul fashions, The Our Sindy Museum website is a treasure trove.
Is it wrong I quite fancy Paul?? The man knows a piece of sharp tailoring when he sees it.
I know this is not the point of the piece, but 3yo you was so cute ☺️