When the High Street Was King: Shopping in 1960s and 70s Britain (Part One)

 

Back in the 1960s and 70s, Saturday was the big day of the week when people went shopping. The weekend often began with a shopping trip.

“Up town”

Even if you lived in a city, a shopping trip was typically referred to as going “up town”.

I still make those Saturday shopping trips to my local city centre, but things look very different now. The side streets have just as many closed shops as open. It has been that way for many years, and the city centre today is nowhere near as busy as it was in the past. While there are calls to revitalise city centres, it tends to overlook that people have more choice as to where and how they shop today.

There wasn’t as much choice in the 1970s. There were local shops and markets, but out-of-town (or city) shopping centres were still only a town planner’s dream. The first arrived at Brent Cross in London in 1976. Out-of-town superstores had been around for a while, although I only rarely visited one.

We mostly went “up town” to do our Saturday shop.

There was a time when the high street and the city centre were the place to go when it came to shopping. Before online shopping and before everything could be delivered to your front door with the click of a button, most of us went shopping in person.

That meant a car or bus journey, sometimes a walk.

On Saturday morning, the town centre was often "packed" by nine o'clock. Shops were full, queues long, and buses arrived every five minutes. If you wanted a new pair of shoes, you went to the shoe shop. If you wanted a record, you went to the record shop. If you needed a birthday present, you went into “town” and looked around the shops. Christmas shopping was hectic, and it didn't begin in October either.

As a young boy, if I wanted toys, which was most of the time, I would visit an actual toy shop. I remember one in the city centre that was massive and had every toy I could ever want. The fact that I would always leave the shop empty-handed, with a “Maybe at Christmas” comment from my parents, gave me hope that often failed to deliver.

Santa must have forgotten.

Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Comfort Foods That Kept Us Going - Bread and Dripping: So Good It Caused Riots

 

If ever there was a meal that perfectly reflected Britain’s frugal past, it had to be bread and dripping. Perhaps hard to believe now, but there was a time when it was seen as a nutritious and desirable meal. A meal that was eaten regularly across the land.

But what was bread and dripping?

Back in the 1960s and 70s, for many it was almost a staple meal. In our house it was served as a once a week event, on Sunday. That was the day when a traditional beef roast was cooked. When finished, the fat left in the roasting tin wasn’t thrown away. Instead, it was poured into a pot and allowed to cool. It was then used to spread on bread, or as a cooking fat.

When I went to live with my gran in the early 1970s, she would always serve up a couple of slices of bread and dripping after Sunday dinner. There was a skill to getting it right, though. The right balance between the leftover meat juices and fat was key. Often the rich meat juices settled underneath the layer of fat, creating an extra burst of flavour. Out of the pot, it would be spread onto bread or toast, sometimes with a little salt and pepper.

Too much fat, though, could spoil the sandwich — or maybe that was just me? I was not that keen on too much fat. It could be served at any time, as a filling afternoon snack or as a simple supper. In an emergency, it was a lunchtime sandwich to take to school.

To modern eyes it may sound unhealthy, and it was. A sandwich, the contents of which were mostly fat - and it wasn’t good fat. Exactly the opposite, it was loaded with saturated bad fat. But the truth was, many people were blissfully unaware of the dangers of too much saturated fat back then. 

And who was going to tell us anyway? 

We were years away from healthy lifestyle information being readily available. This was a time when many people were more concerned about wasting what was seen as perfectly good food than its fat content. The dripping from a roast dinner was simply an opportunity to make more meals. 

And then there was the cost.

With money and household budgets often tight, we ate what was available. Leftovers often became the next meal. Throwing food away simply wasn’t an option. It’s another reminder that previous generations often had to make every penny count and that austerity was nothing new.

People have even rioted over dripping.

Five More TV Catchphrases That Defined 1960s & 70s Britain

Following on from our look at five famous television catchphrases that became part of everyday British life in the 1960s and 70s, here are five more that many people of a certain age will remember instantly. 

Catchphrases from television programmes which became a part of the language of the time.

Love them or hate them, a catchphrase once heard almost had a life of its own. And if you were in the business of show business and were the one who came up with the catchphrase that took off, you would be remembered forever.

So, let’s get started.

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“I didn’t get where I am today …” — C.J. from the BBC comedy series The Rise and Fall of Reginald Perrin and The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin

The Rise and Fall of Reginald Perrin is the story of a burnt-out and very bored executive, Reginald Perrin. Written by David Nobbs, it tells the story of Reginald Iolanthe Perrin.

Simply known as Reggie, Perrin was played by Leonard Rossiter. The series follows Reggie as he faces a midlife crisis and decides to fake his own death. He leaves behind his old life and searches for something better. He ends up working on a farm looking after pigs and soon realises that the grass is not always as green on the other side.

His boss, C.J., was played by John Barron. C.J. is the pompous managing director of Sunshine Desserts who sees himself as above all those around him. Whenever he disapproved of or questioned anyone, he would always use his favourite expression:

“I didn’t get where I am today by …”

He would then offer his opinion — a supposedly wiser observation about business or life that questioned the proposition. The humour was in the repetition. C.J. was completely convinced of his own self-importance, while everyone around him either feared him or took no notice.

The phrase was one to use as a joke. As a putdown, it could be adapted to almost any situation.

“Eat your greens.” Mam might chastise me across the dinner table.

“I didn’t get where I am today by eating greens …”

You didn’t even need to finish the sentence. Everyone knew what was coming.

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“I’m free!” — Mr Humphries, from the BBC comedy series Are You Being Served?

Another phrase that became part of British popular culture came from the BBC sitcom Are You Being Served? Mr Humphries was played by John Inman. He worked on the menswear counter at the fictional Grace Brothers department store.

His famous cry of “I’m free!” was delivered with a knowing, flamboyant and somewhat camp flourish that raised the inevitable question about Mr Humphries; was the character gay? I can’t remember it ever being mentioned in the series, and Mr Humphries did occasionally mention girlfriends. No answer was given.

There was no doubt that the character of Mr Humphries was camp, though. His reply of “I’m free!” became one of the show’s most recognisable jokes. The character and catchphrase reflected the risqué, innuendo-filled style of British sitcom comedy that followed in the tradition of the Carry On films. It became increasingly popular during the 1970s.

Five TV Catchphrases That Defined 1960s & 70s Britain

 

There was a time when television was still relatively new, yet its influence on everyday British life stood out. With only three television channels for much of the 1960s and 1970s, millions would watch the same programmes. The most popular would regularly have audience figures of fifteen to twenty million; at Christmas, they would be higher.

Today, it is very different. There is far more choice and many ways to view “television” content. Audience figures, even for the most successful programmes, are much lower now. Back in the nineteen sixties and seventies, if something was popular on television, chances were that a large proportion of the country had watched.

And that meant television catchphrases could quickly escape from the small screen and become part of everyday conversation. They often became popular overnight. Many were funny, and you didn’t necessarily have to explain the joke, as many had already seen it. Say the phrase in the right voice, and everyone knew exactly what you meant.

Here are five memorable examples.

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“I wanna tell you a story.” — Max Bygraves

Max Bygraves was one of Britain’s best-known entertainers. He performed at a time when those in show business would simply call themselves an entertainer. The “Jack of all trades” type of act. They would typically sing, dance, play instruments, tell jokes and stories, and even act in films. A bit of everything.

And if there is one catchphrase that people who lived through that time will remember Max Bygraves for, it is “I wanna tell you a story.” It became closely associated with his stage and television performances.

Bygraves would typically use the phrase before launching into a joke, story, or anecdote. His delivery was as important as the words themselves, slightly exaggerated, becoming part of the character. “I wanna tell you a story” was a simple, memorable and easy-to-imitate catchphrase. Children and adults alike would use it, and often did, when they had something to tell.

It became so popular that impersonators like Mike Yarwood did their impression of “I wanna tell you a story” with exaggerated waving hands. Yarwood’s own television show would regularly attract a big audience. If you watched Mike Yarwood, then you didn’t need to be a fan of Max Bygraves to know about the “I wanna tell you a story” catchphrase.

And Bygraves himself thought highly of it, as he named his autobiography “I wanna tell you a story”.

It may be less well known today, but just about everyone might have said it at some point back then.

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“Just like that!” — Tommy Cooper

Few comedians had a catchphrase quite as recognisable as Tommy Cooper’s “Just like that!” Cooper had a very distinctive appearance, a big physical presence, and he always wore a red fez. 

He was a magician and a very funny one.

His act was based on magic tricks. He would attempt a trick, fail spectacularly and then confidently announce, “Just like that!” He perfected the art of doing magic tricks badly, but he would often follow it up by actually doing the trick right with an add-on to his catchphrase.

“Just like that — not like that — just like that!” When he finally got it right.

Tommy Cooper’s timing was the best in the business. Actually, he was an excellent magician, but he also crossed over into telling funny stories and jokes, while occasionally attempting to sing. He could turn a simple phrase into a punchline through his delivery and facial expressions.

“Just like that!” quickly became something people could use whenever something happened easily, unexpectedly or, perhaps, not quite as successfully as planned. It became something you could hear repeated in homes, workplaces, and school playgrounds.

The Writer's Life : A Simple Reason Why Books and Reading Are Important

 

 

Two stories about books: One involves war, the other, Dolly Parton.

Last week I came across a news article about books that was front-page news on the BBC website. 

It was about the publishing industry in war-torn Ukraine, but not for good reasons.

For anyone who is a book-lover and reader, here’s the bit you would rather not read. Russia has been targeting the book publishing industry and books as part of its war on Ukraine.

Here’s the BBC headline:

Russian strikes destroy 12 million books ahead of Ukraine’s first week back at school.

In recent weeks 35 publishing facilities were hit. It’s part of a concerted effort by the Russians to attack cultural targets in Ukraine. That includes book publishing, museums, art galleries, film studios, libraries, and opera houses. I suspect that the attacks probably violate international law, but since when has that mattered to an aggressor?

The fact is, when it comes to war and extreme politics, the written word and books are always a target. 

Then I came across another news story about books — one that tells us about the importance of books and reading in our lives. A positive story that takes us away from the nastiness of those who choose destruction and aggression.

Did You Know… Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Hot Summer of 1976 - The Long Heatwave That No One Forgot

 

It’s the summer of 2026, and officially, the UK has seen five heatwaves this year, the latest one coming to an end last weekend as temperatures dropped to mid-twenties.

This year, the grass in many areas has turned brown and then yellow. We have seen wildfires and drought conditions. Health warnings about heat exhaustion are front-page news. The hottest day of the year so far was recorded at Kew Gardens in London, with temperatures reaching 38.1C.

We have had hot summers before, but hot, relentless heatwaves are rare.

1976 was one of those long, hot unforgettable summers.

It was fifty years ago, and back then we didn’t have weather apps or amber heat warnings. There was no rolling television coverage. Unlike today’s forecasts, there were no smartphone alerts warning us to drink more water or stay indoors. Like now, we knew it was hot, but being a young teenager, the sun was what we wanted.

Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Comfort Foods That Kept Us Going - Sugar Sandwiches

In the 1960s and 70s, when jam wasn’t available, children would often turn to sugar, in the form of sugar sandwiches. It was the meal that kept children happy and dentists busy. A sweet treat made with two slices of white bread. Every sandwich seemed to be made with white bread back then. They were cheerfully cheap and satisfied the sweet tooth of the nation.

The sugar sandwich delivered empty calories while giving an energy rush that stopped hunger in its tracks. Many adults who grew up in the 1960s and 1970s may still smile at the memory, although I doubt most wouldn’t dream of eating one today.

It was a snack designed for comfort and convenience.

And just like a jam sandwich, they were so easy to make. As a boy, even I could make them. I’d return home from school at lunchtime, hungry for a sandwich and with a plan in mind as to what I wanted.

“What are we having to eat?” I would ask my mother.

“There’s cheese, spam, some corned beef left …”

“Do we have any jam?” I asked, ignoring all the more nutritious options on offer.

“Jam? Not until I go to the shops.”

“No jam? I wouldn't mind a sugar sandwich. I can make it.” I said with hope.

“Sugar sandwich? I suppose so, but don’t blame me if you get a toothache.”

Wise advice often ignored.

Did You Know… Life in 1980s Britain: Council Housing in Transition: Tenants as Owners and the End of Affordable Housing

 

 

For much of the mid-to late 20th century, council housing was to become a cornerstone of British life. That all changed after the election of Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative government in 1979. In 1980, they introduced a policy that would see one of the most significant housing reforms in modern British history. 

From the start, it was controversial. Council tenants were given the legal right to purchase the homes they were living in. The policy was called “Right to Buy”. And to encourage tenants to take part, they were often given a substantial discount to market price to do so. 

Traditionally, council housing was there to provide cheap, affordable housing to rent, not to buy. It was a policy grounded in affordability, and a recognition that a basic level of decent quality housing should not be left to the market to decide on the basis of what you could afford. That was about to change.

But first, how did we get there, and why?

The Post-War Council House Boom

After the Second World War, Britain needed new housing and lots of it. Housing stock that had been damaged and destroyed by the Luftwaffe needed to be replaced. There was also a need to replace the rundown, ageing, privately owned housing stock that was no longer fit for purpose.

Not for the first time, Britain had a housing crisis. The same call to build homes fit for heroes had gone out after the First World War. For the most part it failed to deliver. Britain’s housing stock for the masses was poor, but in 1945 a Labour government committed itself to building decent-quality, affordable housing to rent. 

They were called council houses.

From the end of the war, up to 1981, over five million council properties were built in Britain. By the start of the 1980s around 1 in 3 households lived in social homes. They provided secure, affordable homes, and for many, renting from the local council became the norm, something that was desirable. It offered stability, community, and a sense of belonging that stretched across generations.

But in the 1980s, that changed.

It was something that would reshape not only how people lived but also what they thought about homeownership, wealth, and society itself.

A Radical New Idea — The Right to Buy

In housing, there was a shift to the ideology that the market knows best. 

The Writer's Life: The Hospital Clock

 

One thing about getting older is that you spend more time at the local doctors surgery or, occasionally, a hospital visit. Even if you’re fit and healthy, you can end up needing a check-up now and then. And this is the second time this year I’ve found myself at a local hospital — nothing serious, but I still needed to go in for tests.

I have written before that writers tend to look at the world differently; everything is potentially a story. 

That was the case on this visit as well.

My appointment was for two thirty in the afternoon, the letter saying that I should allow for two hours. I arrived at the hospital with thirty minutes to spare and made my way to the department, only to be surprised that the reception was empty. The only person there was seated at the reception desk working away on a computer.

I thought, ‘Lucky me, no one is waiting; I should be in and out in no time.’ I handed in my letter to register that I had arrived. Unfortunately, I soon found out that I was not so lucky after all, as all appointments for that day were to be seen on the first floor.

“Go out this door, turn left and up the stairs. The door directly opposite is where you need to go.” Said the receptionist.

Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Comfort Foods That Kept Us Going - Spam: The Meat That Refused to Disappear

 

Love it or hate it, Spam, canned pork and ham, has become one of Britain’s most recognisable foods. At least there was a time when it was recognisable. Today when Spam gets a mention, it is often more to do with spam emails or online scammers than food.

Introduced in the 1930s, it gained enormous popularity during rationing in wartime because it was readily and widely available. By the 1970s it remained a cupboard staple in many homes. That was certainly the case in my home. 

And it was cheap, around fifteen to twenty pence a can. 

Is it still popular? I must admit, I haven’t eaten it in years. In fact, I wondered if it was still available. You don’t hear spam mentioned much these days as a desirable meal or part of the weekly shop. And I don’t remember seeing it on the shelves at the supermarket.

So, I had to check. 

Of course, it is available, and it still comes in a tin can. An odd-shaped tin can. It was also a can that used to come with, if memory serves me, its own little key that you would use to wind the lid off (or maybe that was corned beef in a can?). That could be tricky if you got it wrong.

There was then the challenge of getting the meat out of the tin. Often, it didn’t move, and I would end up slapping the bottom of the tin. There was an art to getting it right that my mother seemed to know.