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

The local toyshop, just around the corner from my home back in the 1960s, was a treasure trove for local children. It seemed that every toy we could ever want was in that small shop. Mind you, at the time it didn’t look small. To a small boy, though, it was big, stacked from top to bottom with every toy imaginable. I only discovered, years later when I revisited the area, just how small the shop was. 

It was in a row of local shops, conveniently next door to my favourite sweet shop.

I would visit the toyshop several times a week, mostly window shopping, but occasionally I would pluck up the courage to go in. As you walked in, the left side of the shop sold toys for boys. To the right, girls' toys. Needless to say, I never crossed the boundary to the right. 

The shopkeeper would look in my direction. 

“Hello again.” He would say, in recognition of my many visits. “What interests you today?”

“Just looking." I would reply.

“Well, don’t look for too long, because next time you come in, what you want now might be sold.” 

The shopkeeper tried his best to encourage me to spend.

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

 

Buying something on 'tick' is a British idiom that means to buy on credit. 

It might be used alongside other idioms, like to buy on the “never-never”. Often people would use both. 

Another way of paying later that was popular in pubs was to buy drinks and then ask the barman to "put it on the slate”.

It probably helped if you were friends with the publican.

In many ways it was a system based on trust.

Buying on “tick” and the “never-never” or “putting it on the slate" were all forms of credit, but not in a legal sense. Typically, it was often a private arrangement, and perhaps most importantly, there was usually no interest to pay. In other words, you just owed the shopkeeper or publican money for goods purchased. It was one way of helping customers through the week until they got paid. It worked as long as you settled your bill on time; otherwise, you might end up being banned or barred.

And it was different from purchasing items by using an actual credit card. The first credit card was introduced in Britain on 29 June 1966 by Barclays, but it would take a long time for their use to become widespread. For the most part even paying by cheque was rare. Most people didn’t have a chequebook or that type of bank account. 

In fact, many people didn’t even have a bank account.

And debit cards were also some way off in the future as well.

The 1960s and 70s were a time when cash was king.

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.

Did You Know… Life in 1960s/70s Britain: Cash for Glass - When Shops Paid You to Return Empty Pop Bottles

Pop bottle returns and the excitement of reclaiming a few pennies.

Long before plastic bottles, ring-pull cans and multipack deals, fizzy drinks in Britain came in solid glass bottles. In the 1960s and 70s, every bottle of pop carried a small return deposit, usually a penny or two, which you could reclaim by returning the empty to the shop. For a young boy (or girl), those bottles were far too valuable to throw away.

It was a simple system, but one that shaped a childhood routine. It could make a difference to pocket money economics. There was also the thrill of walking into a shop clutching a bag of empties, which would soon turn into a pocketful of pennies.

A Local Shop For Local People

“Where did you get them from?” The shopkeeper might ask.

I would try not to look guilty. Sometimes, I would take them back for neighbours, having agreed that I could keep the pennies. Often, I would find them. To the shopkeeper it looked like we drank a lot of pop, little of which had been bought from him.

The shopkeeper would inspect the bottles, count them, and either hand over coins or deduct the amount from whatever you were buying. A big haul could go towards sweets, crisps, or, maybe, another bottle of pop to start the cycle all over again. A few bottles might buy a comic.

The local shop was central to this system. Many had wooden crates stacked by the door, out the back, or behind the counter. The shopkeeper knew exactly which bottles belonged to which company and which were acceptable for return. Some were stricter than others. A bottle from the “wrong” brand might be rejected with a shrug. Others took them all. It depended on the shop, the supplier, and if your parents were a regular customer.

Did You Know… Life in 1960s/70s Britain: When People Collected Green Shield Stamps - The Stamp That Was Like Money

 

Collected from supermarkets and petrol stations, saved in books, then traded in for household goods.

Another journey, back in time to the 1960s and 70s.

Before we had loyalty cards, club points, air miles and shopper loyalty schemes, there was one system that reigned supreme for Britain’s shoppers: Green Shield Stamps.

For those of us who remember the time, these little green stamps were as much a part of everyday life as the weekly shop or the big catalogue that introduced the world of buying on credit. The stamps were everywhere and much sought after. Picked up at the till at the local shop or supermarket, or when filling up the car at the petrol station, they were tucked away into purses and wallets, taken home and stuck in a little book.

For millions of families, eventually, you would have enough for a new kettle, transistor radio or even the first colour TV. Consumerism, and the life of your dreams, was just a stamp away.

A Brief History.

What were Green Shield Stamps?

They were introduced in the UK in 1958, with a very simple idea:

Spend money = Get stamps = Stick them in a book = Swap books for goods. 

It wasn’t complicated, and millions did it. Supermarkets like Tesco, and other retailers, big and small, joined — thousands of them. Petrol stations were encouraged to take part as well. They all handed out stamps based on the amount you spent.

Each book would hold 1,280 stamps, and one stamp was equal to six pence spent. That was pre-decimalisation, 1971. In new pennies, a stamp was given for every two and a half pence.

An occasional trip to the local shop might yield dozens, while the big weekly shop could earn a sheetful. Over time, you’d collect enough sheets to fill up a Green Shield Stamp Saver Book. It was a chunky little booklet with a grid layout that, over time, got fatter and fatter as the stamps were added to it.

But adding the stamps to the book was a weekly job that no one wanted. Licking them was often given to the kids to do, with the comment, “Make sure you put the stamps in straight…” The stamps never went in straight.

It was a novelty at first, until that horrible taste of glue got the better of you. Licking several hundred stamps lost its appeal after a while. No one told us that using a damp sponge in a little soap dish was the way to go.