I can't tell you how pleased I am to be a child of the very early '50s.
I seem to have avoided all manner of early life traumas.
Reading the "Beano" under my granny's coat or doing anything else by torchlight was not a feature. Although I will plead guilty to listening to Radio Luxembourg on my transistor.
I can also proudly say that I avoided any allegiance to "Slade" or any other such cultural blasphemy.
My only crime was standing at the top bar at Annabel's with a large G&T, watching the women go buy whilst listening to "Virginia Plain".
And YES Rendezvous (this is getting spookier by the minute) I too can remember BF's printed velvet jacket — it was an absolute killer. His taste was always incredible. I looked high and low for it — even taking my hard earned cash to Marcus Price but no joy. The boy must have got it in London.