Born on 1 January 1960

Back in 1960, the world felt like it was finally shaking off the grey soot of the fifties and finding its colour. I remember the air always smelling of coal smoke and damp wool, especially during that biting January when the news was all about the Princess Margaret getting engaged to Tony Armstrong-Jones. If you popped into the pub then, you’d be nursing a lukewarm pint of mild or perhaps a Mackeson, while "What Do You Want" by Adam Faith crackled on the jukebox.

We weren’t fancy eaters; a real treat was a Vesta curry or a tin of Fray Bentos, followed by a Choc Ice if the freezer was behaving. On the telly, we were all huddled around the box for the very first episode of *Coronation Street* in December—none of us knew then that Ena Sharples would become an institution! The kids were obsessed with their new Etch A Sketches or flicking Subbuteo players across the carpet, while the older lot were queuing at the cinema to see *Psycho*, half-terrified to take a shower afterwards.

It was a simpler turn of the clock, where the Milk Tray man was a hero and the summer actually felt like a summer. Truly lovely, wasn't it?