Henry's Cat

When the TV broke down, Henry's Cat gave it a thump...

The TV set immediately started working, and the Prime Minister came on giving a speech. This seemed worse than not having it working, so Henry's Cat switched it off...

Let's start with a joke! Why did the chicken cross the road? To see Gregory Peck! Henry's Cat and Chris Rabbit were told this "joke" by a three-headed dragon. It's actually a mangling of a joke which begins: "Why did the chicken go to the cinema?" But I prefer the three-headed dragon's version! My family, friends and colleagues never laugh when I tell the joke to them. But I always do.

You're NOT laughing? Oh, well - suit yourself! Let's press on...

First question: what is Henry's Cat's name?

Er... pass.

Oh well, second question: why is Henry's Cat simply called "Henry's Cat"?

Er... pass again.

Actually, in a year 2000 DVD release, creator Stan Hayward gave us the story behind the mysterious absence of a name for our favourite 1980s TV moggy, but back in my favourite decade we had no idea, and it all added brilliantly to the quirkiness of the show. And for those who like the mystery of it all, I won't spoil things! The details are available on the Henry's Cat Special Edition DVD, which sometimes crops up on on-line auction sites.

 

Henry's Cat in book form and on video cassette in the 1980s, and on DVD in the 21st Century.

Stan Hayward created Henry's Cat in the early 1980s, and Bob Godfrey (of Roobarb fame) animated, directed and narrated the show. The BBC wanted a new series for its children's programming. Rather than do another series of Roobarb, Bob Godfrey asked Stan Hayward for a fresh idea for the new show. And Henry's Cat was the result.

It started out as a series of five minute shorts on BBC1, first broadcast in the 5.35pm slot, just before the news and weather - made famous by such past greats as The Magic Roundabout and Hector's House - on 12 September 1983.  

From series three, the episodes were lengthened to fifteen minutes and the stories became rather more elaborate and sophisticated.

Henry's Cat hits the box on 12 September 1983. Look at those line-ups! John Craven's Newsround! Fame! Hi-De-Hi! The cuttings from my local newspaper archive were apparently headed "24-HOUR TELEVISION", but we didn't actually have 24-hour telly in those days. The full heading was: "24-HOUR TELEVISION AND RADIO". Yep, you COULD listen to the wireless all day and all night - even way back then!

There was a special Christmas Day Henry's Cat episode for 1983, shown on BBC 2 - The Christmas Dinner.

 The 1985 Henry's Cat Annual...

Sadly, Bob Godfrey died this year, and in the Guardian obituary by Stan Hayward, some useful insights on just who Henry was supposed to be were given:

Henry's Cat is never seen in profile, and he doesn't have a name, as the first story was based on Winnie-the-Pooh and Christopher Robin. The boy, Henry, got lost in the second story and was never part of the TV series or the published books. 

 Henry's Cat was laid back and liked watching the telly, reading and eating - not necessarily in that order. Anyone for jelly baby sandwiches?

He had ambition - often inspired by TV programmes he saw. In 1984, he set out to be World Champion Bender - having seen a spoon bender on the box. But when Henry's Cat bent Big Ben, he found himself on the wrong end of an ear bashing from none other than Margaret Thatcher herself. Never mind. The body-popping Statue of Liberty was a great success, and Henry's Cat set up "Wally Tours" for eager tourists to view his worldwide bending miracles. 

Telly and books often provided the inspiration for Henry's Cat's wild and colourful dreams. 

 Daydreams or night dreams, Henry's Cat could very easily find himself being Sherlock Holmes, fighting three headed dragons, or unexpectedly encountering a pirate video on the high seas as part of Captain McGregor's trusty crew, out hunting for treasure.

 But Henry's Cat was actually pretty wise. "Glamour is mostly pie in the sky," he once said. "But life is mainly a pie in the eye."


Although Henry's Cat could talk, he was, when all was said and done, a cat, and he could also give a very impressive "MIOW!"  In the opening sequence debuting in the second season (1984) - inspired by the old MGM logo, which involved a lion growling most impressively, we saw Henry's Cat giving two very wonderful MIOWS! - with his head framed by the first "O" in the words "Bob Godfrey Films Ltd".

An original 1980s Henry's Cat badge. "Eat, drink and be purry"? Sounds like excellent advice to me!

Henry's Cat wasn't the only regular character on-screen. His best mate was Chris Rabbit, a blue rabbit - and, much as I adored HC, Chris was my favourite character. Hyperactive to the max, Chris bounced around, enthusing about everything, and, although I wasn't quite as lively (or downright barmy) as him, I definitely sensed a kindred spirit there! He couldn't half rabbit, that rabbit!

So could I. Some people say I still do!

Chris's hobby was UFO spotting. He enjoyed studying the sky for flying saucers through his binoculars, and writing down the registration numbers of those he spotted. And he saw quite a lot. Henry's Cat took a look, and couldn't see anything, which either says a lot about Henry's Cat's eyesight, or Chris Rabbit's mental state! 

 Henry's Cat enters the world of politics: "Many others offer false promises, that they do not keep, but I will keep my false promises - that I promise."

Rather more in the background than Chris Rabbit were other friends of Henry's Cat - including Pansy Pig, who loved doing gymnastics. Henry's Cat was most concerned when Pansy became convinced she was ugly, and organised a TV show called Blind Dates. The idea was that the contestant had to choose between three possible suitors, hidden behind a screen. Isn't that rather like Cilla Black's Blind Date, you ask? Even the title? Blind Dates? Blind Date? Well, yes, but Henry's Cat's dates were plural, Cilla only had one. 

Henry's Cat's other friends included Phillipe Frog, who was French, and liked underwater guitar playing, Ted Tortoise, who was training to be a boxer, Denise Duck, who liked water sking, Douglas Dog -  who loved kite flying, Sammy Snail - tightrope walker... er, I mean, slitherer,  and down-to-earth Northerner Mosey Mouse. Constable Bulldog was the local bobby on the beat. He was a traditional cop (''Ello, 'ello, 'ello!") who enjoyed flower arranging in his spare time.

The gang in 1984 - Douglas Dog, Henry's Cat, Chris Rabbit, Mosey Mouse, Pansy Pig, Phillipe Frog, Sammy Snail, Henry's Cat, Denise Duck and Ted Tortoise.

Henry's Cat had two notable enemies: Farmer Giles, whose life our yellow friend unwittingly disrupted on several occasions (well, anybody would be upset to find Myrtle the cow floating on her back in the village pond, spouting water and thinking she was a whale), and Count Rum Baa Baa of Paranoia - a very rum sheep indeed - in fact, a criminal mastermind.  When Rum Baa Baa kidnapped Father Christmas and threatened to cut off his pom pom, the world held its breath. But Henry's Cat and Chris Rabbit came to the rescue, and Christmas was saved.

Like me back in the 1980s, Chris Rabbit was a very enthusiastic bloke. Unlike me, he didn't become an '80s fashion victim as rabbits don't wear clothes.

Bob Godfrey said: "Henry's Cat is completely dozy, he doesn't know anything and of course Chris Rabbit is mad and he thinks that he knows everything, but in actual fact he knows nothing, and so these two together... they are both, you know - barmy!"

From the 1983 Henry's Cat book, The Whale, based on a first series episode, Chris Rabbit has the answer!

Chris Rabbit was a powerhouse of ideas and information. He'd read the history of America on a Cornflakes packet, for example, and was able to prime Henry's Cat when the yellow feline was gripped with a sudden desire to become President of the USA.

It was all a matter of sitting for a Presidents' exam. The person scoring the highest points became President, the one scoring the lowest became Vice President. Having gone to all the trouble of catching a bus from England to the USA, Henry's Cat failed the exam because he went off into a daydream and then fell asleep.

Oh well, never mind.

"Nothing succeeds like excess," says Henry's Cat on this favourite mug of mine. Well, it WAS the 1980s!

In series one, Henry's Cat and his pals came up with a new dance craze. After the Birdie Dance, the Henry's Cat crew entered a TV talent contest and brought us the Disco Doddle, which gripped the nation - and, in fact, everybody was so busy doing it that the Prime Minister feared the country was going to grind to a halt and sent in the paratroop to the TV studio to stop the fun. The studio audience was sent home with the Prime Minster's apologies and a bag of chocolate buttons.

The series was, and is, wonderful, because it has child and adult appeal. 

 Henry's Cat could always turn to Chris Rabbit  for advice...

My fond memories of characters like Henry's Cat (and Chris Rabbit, of course!) help make the big, boring, thoroughly corporate 21st Century world a little more bearable for me. I'm a big kid at heart.

Having immersed myself in Henry's Cat episodes for the last few days, this morning I found myself sitting on the bus, back in the real world, glumly chewing on a Chewy Mint, going into work. UGH! After five days off, the prospect did not really thrill me. Suddenly, inside my head, I heard Chris Rabbit's shrill, hyper-enthusiastic voice: "THAT'S WHAT I'D LIKE TO DO! THAT'S JUST WHAT I'D LIKE TO DO!"

It didn't make me feel any more enthusiastic about my break coming to an end and having to return to the daily grind.

But it did make me smile.

Brookside - Groundbreaking Soap - Real Houses, Soap Bubbles And Lots More!

The Collins family faced the trauma of Paul's redundancy and a downwardly mobile route to Brookside Close; Jimmy Corkhill was up to no good; Barry Grant wanted dosh and fell into bad ways; Pat, Sandra and Kate faced a mentally disturbed gunman; Sheila Grant faced a late-in-life pregnancy and endless problems from her kids and hubby; Marie Jackson took her "FREE GEORGE JACKSON" campaign to Downing Street; Harry Cross and Ralph Hardwick bickered at the bungalow; and nice yuppie Heather Haversham had a hell of a time...

"From the outset one of my main aims was to reflect Britain in the 1980s..." - Phil Redmond, 1987.

In 1981, Phil Redmond, frustrated that his ideas were failing to reach their potential because of decisions made by others, formed his own TV company - Mersey Television - and put forward the idea to the soon-to-be happening Channel 4 that the company might like a twice weekly soap. The idea was accepted. The soap was originally to be called Meadowcroft, but was later renamed Brookside.

From the "Sun", February 2, 1982. Actually the provisional title for this show, which turned out to be "Brookside", was "Meadowcroft", not "Meadowcraft" and the creator was Phil Redmond not Redmund! Still, "Coronation Street" producer Bill Podmore's confident attitude is worth noting: "I enjoy competition... especially when we are going to win."
 
Phil Redmond was determined that Brookside would be a show reflecting life in the 1980s, and the technology and setting was also cutting edge. Redmond bought some houses which were still in the process of being built to form the setting for his show and made full use of the lighter, smaller cameras available in the early '80s to film in them. The use of real houses was an absolute first for soap - truly revolutionary.

Most of the houses would provide homes for his characters, others would house the various departments needed to produce a popular drama - technical, wardrobe, canteen, etc. 

The trouble was, the houses used for other things were empty as far as the plot was concerned in the early years - which rather dented the 'reality' of the show. Why had some houses simply remained unsold?

The first episode was shown on Channel 4's opening night in November 1982.

TV Times, 1988 - "South" was a Brookside "soap bubble", shown as part of the schools series "The English Programme". What was a soap bubble? A short series of programmes featuring characters from Brookside in a different scenario. The first, Damon & Debbie, was shown in 1987.

Brookside was so non-cosy, it shocked many viewers. And left wing. I was left wing (nowadays I don't trust any politicians), but none of the people round my way went on and on about being poor or social issues as much as the folk in Brookside. In fact, many got rather upwardly mobile as the decade went on.

But Brookside gave UK soap a much-needed boot up the backside, and the effects can still be felt to this day. If only the soaps hadn't become so sensationalised in more recent years, Brookside included! But nowadays everybody's obsessed with serial killers and explosions. 

Without Brookside, I'm sure BBC bosses would not have turned their attentions to producing their own all-year-round soap - and then EastEnders would never have been created!

 Brookside ended in 2003.

We'll be returning to the Close soon.

Annabelle Collins with husband Paul. Love his '80s jumper! The Collinses faced many traumas: son Gordon was UK soap's first regular gay character; daughter Lucy dallied with bad lad Barry; and whilst Annabelle initially wanted to be friends with her lower class neighbours in the Close and Paul despised them, the trend was reversed in later years, with Paul becoming more of a "people person" and Annabelle succumbing to snobbish impulses. When Paul, training for a charity fun run with "commoner" Matty Nolan, allowed Matty to use the Collinses' shower, Annabelle was disgusted!

House Music And Garage Music... Separate, Not The Same...

Joanne has written:

Were the dance music genres of the 1980s, House and Garage the same thing? I remember as a kid them being referred to separately, but I recently read of something called "Garage House" on a not very accurate site, and thought I'd turn to you for the answer!

Yes, they were separate, Joanne. House music as a distinct genre of electronic dance music began in Chicago - 1983 was described as "Year Zero" for house in the Channel 4 documentary, Pump Up The Volume. House, of course, hit the mainstream in the mid-1980s. Garage I knew little of until the 1990s, when I heard talk of "house and garage". There was also talk of something called "shed" at that time. It all seemed quite witty, but I was married by then and no longer part of the nightclub scene so know little about Garage. It apparently began in the early 1980s in New York and New Jersey, USA, and was influenced by the same sudden explosion of electronic instruments - synthesizers, drum machines, etc - as house.

The origins of the two genres are separate though.

1981 - Mr Rubik - The Barron Knights

 

The Barron Knights gave us the album Twisting The Knights Away in 1981, and reflected the year's main craze on the cover and in one of the tracks - the Rubik's Cube! The Cube blasted out from behind the Iron Curtain, Hungary to be exact, where it had been known as Magic Cube, to become Rubik's Cube in 1980 - re-manufactured to Western World safety and packaging norms.

Small numbers of Magic Cubes had seeped into the West, but there were never enough to spark any major craze, and the Magic Cube was not pliable enough to allow speed cubing, which would become a major feature of the Rubik's Cube craze. The small seepage of Magic Cubes caused some confusion and even the mighty BBC to slip up in its 'I Love...' series, when it claimed the Rubik's Cube arrived in the UK in 1979. It did not actually exist then, and the small numbers of Magic Cubes which seeped over here via a small niche puzzle company largely passed unnoticed. Just check out any UK newspaper archive. The BBC was inundated with complaints and moved the Rubik's Cube to 1980 on its 'I Love...' website. 

As the series had also goofed with the space hopper (UK newspaper articles reveal it was a huge craze from the time of its release in the spring of 1968 and not thrilling and new in 1971) and several other items, pop culture historians now approach the series with extreme caution.

But in the case of the Rubik's Cube, the BBC can't be wholly blamed: rather misleading tales that the tiny niche puzzle company Pentangle in England launched the Magic Cube in the UK in 1978 had been circulating since the early 1980s - taking no account of the tiny numbers available and the Magic Cube's differences to the 1980 Rubik's Cube. As we say, the UK newspaper archives are a great recorder of past crazes, as are magazines of the time.

From the cover of the Sunday Times Magazine's review of 1981 - the Year of the Cube in the UK.

Sadly, the 1980 Rubik's Cubes were also in woefully short supply at first. Although the trademark was registered in the UK on 7 May 1980, the first of them did not arrive until later in the year - and still stocks were low. In the spring of 1981 more Cubes arrived. The craze flamed, and was so ferocious that the colourful little object become one of the main icons of the 1980s. 

Hear the Barron Knights' humorous Rubik's  Cube song below, with some clever modern day Cube animation that just suits the mood - and evokes very powerfully the spirit of 1981! Mr Rubik was, of course, the puzzle's inventor, Erno Rubik, and much more can be read about the Cube by clicking on our "Rubik's Cube" label below.

"Language, Timothy!" "Sorry, Father!" - The Adventures Of Timothy Lumsden

Sorry! - the novel. Ronnie Corbett as hapless librarian Timothy Lumsden is the cover star. Timothy desperately wanted to leave home, and sought "full board without scotch eggs".

Towards the end of 1980, Ronnie Corbett, the little one of Two Ronnies fame, was recording the pilot of what he later described as an "everyday sitcom" at the BBC. Although the Two Ronnies was still up and running, Ronnies Barker and Corbett had an agreement with the BBC that individual projects would be provided for them as comedic actors in their own right.

 The "everyday sitcom" pilot in production in late 1980 would never see the light of day. It wasn't deemed good enough.

It was whilst recording this destined-for-the-dumper pilot, that Ronnie Corbett was introduced to a brand new character, written especially for him, by writers Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent.

Enter, Timothy Lumsden! Timothy Christopher Robin Lumsden, to be precise.

Ronnie was happy. The BBC was happy. The pilot of the other show disappeared, never to be seen on-screen. And Sorry! went straight into production - for a full seven episode series, no pilot needed!

Interior scenes were filmed at the BBC in London, and the exterior for the small town setting for Timothy's exploits was provided by Wallingford in Oxfordshire.

In March 1981, the series went on-air. 

 Timothy Lumsden was a very English little man, who would instinctively apologise if somebody bumped into him, trod on his toe, etc. And Ronnie Corbett, himself born in Scotland, made this character live and breathe.

It was a brilliant performance.

Of course, Ronnie Corbett was already famous, but Timothy looked a bit different early on. Slightly more hair. Slightly curlier. Ronnie later commented: "I wore a false piece on top of my hair to make me look a bit curlier, but I don't know why I bothered with that." For me, it was useful because I was already a Ronnie Corbett fan, and loved watching him (particularly his "sit down" act on The Two Ronnies!), but the hair served to set Timothy Lumsden slightly apart, and I found it useful in establishing the character as a separate entity from the Two Ronnies performer.

 What initially warmed me to this series was its excellently drawn characters and the writers' obvious knowledge of what makes people tick - the relationships between the Lumsden family members were brilliantly observed. 

 Detail from the opening titles of Sorry!

Librarian Timothy was not always good with words - he got tongue tied, rambling and flustered at the drop of a hat when in the presence of any woman he liked (his mother had kept him off school the day his class did page 44 in biology), but he was a witty and kind man nonetheless. He was also an Ovalteeny and something of an unlikely hero - saving his godson from a bully, reuniting a runaway daughter with her father, saving a circus troupe from the bailiffs, putting aside the fact that he was going on a date with the woman of his dreams in order to save an elderly neighbour's house from being burgled...

Timothy's big problem was his mother - Mrs Phyllis Lumsden. At the start of the series he was forty-one. But Mummykins still treated him as though he was about five. She cooed at him. She lambasted him, she was always telling him to "stop showing off!", and wasn't averse to clouting him on occasion. She kept asking him if he was constipated. She wanted to make sure he had clean "handy-pandies" before he ate his dinner. She sent him to bed if he misbehaved. She cut his porridge into soldiers for him.

"WHAT?!" you explode. Or perhaps yawn. I dunno what kind of mood you're in today, so I really can't say.

Well, yes, I reply,  I know that cutting bread or toast into soldiers is far more common. But then Mrs Lumsden's porridge was decidedly uncommon. Thank goodness. Which leads us neatly onto the subject of her cooking skills. Or rather lack of them. Mrs L was still living in the war and post-war years of rationing - she still had two boxes of powdered egg in the larder. "Waste not, want not!" was her motto, and leftovers were a speciality. Left over Twiglets and scotch eggs for breakfast? Why not? And what about last Tuesday's spotted dick?

Timothy couldn't break the ties of his mother's apron strings. Even when he seemed close to it, he sometimes scuppered his own efforts because the suffocating bonds were just too tight.

Mrs Lumsden clung on to the past (note the ancient cut-price tin of Zam-Buk in the bathroom) and tried to make sure her son Timothy never grew up. She was so out-of-touch that, when Timothy presented her with an elaborate wrought iron shoe scraper as a present, she tentatively asked: "Is it a video game?"

It seemed appropriate that one of Mrs Lumsden's relatives had invented flypaper. 

 Actress Barbara Lott found fame as monstrous mummy Mrs Lumsden in Sorry!

Mrs Lumsden's daughter, Muriel (Marguerite Hardiman), had broken free and married and Mrs L had never really forgiven her. And Muriel's husband, Kevin (Derek Fuke), well... his eyes were far too close together...

And we all know what that means (incidentally, did you know that eyebrows which meet in the middle are a sign of a "gold digger", and that small ear lobes are a sign of "not a very nice person"? Timothy did).

Whilst we're off on a tangent, was Mrs Nugent Is Coming To Tea a record by Soft Cell?

Muriel committed terrible crimes in her mother's kitchen - like throwing away the J-cloth (Mrs Lumsden believed this should be a yearly event) and descaling the kettle (Mrs L was convinced the tea would taste dreadful because of that). Muriel even threw away the wall calendar in 1981 - "It's not November 1980 anymore!" The photograph of helpless little puppy dogs  had caused Mrs Lumsden not to move beyond that month and year.  She loved helpless little puppy dogs, did Mrs L.

Muriel fell out with her mother regularly, but knew her well, in fact, had similar steel in her own personality. But she was very much in opposition and determined to get her brother out into the world if she possibly could. Far easier said than done!

Timothy's father, Sidney (William Moore), had long retired from the Water Board and even longer accepted his wife's rule. At first glance, he simply seemed to echo her authoritarian stance on occasion - "Language, Timothy!" he'd say, usually when Timothy had said something completely innocent, or, "Bolshie, Timothy!" when the little one was trying to assert himself. 

Mrs Lumsden berated her husband and sent him out to his shed or the garden (smoking was only allowed beyond the compost heap) and generally ruled him with a rod of iron. But we quickly learned that there was a warmer, kinder side to Mr L, and he was often an ally and confidante for Timothy.

Tim frequented the local pub, and often met his old pal, Frank Baker (Roy Holder), there. Frank was another ally, urging Tim to break away from his mother. Unlike Tim, Frank was just your average guy, unhampered by a monstrous mater. He married, started a family, and generally lived life as millions upon millions of men live it. Sometimes he grew frustrated with Tim, but he showed such patience and restraint it was obvious that he really cared.

Apart from that dreadful time in 1982 when he hit Tim with a shepherd's pie.

Frank provided a useful bit of grounding to the show, along with the local pub scenario, including Jean (Jennifer Franks) the barmaid, as Sorry! sometimes leapt away into the surreal. Did Timothy have a guardian angel (see the episode It's A Wonderful Life, Basically), for instance? Or was he simply going a bit strange and imagining things after all those lonely years of oppression?

Timothy had a few more near misses when it came to matrimony, but the closer he got to finding true love, the more desperate his mother became to thwart him. She wasn't above enlisting the aid of her friend Dulcie Barrable (Mavis Pugh) in her attempts to spoil her son's escape plans, and once even faked her own death. Some of the later episodes had a faintly sinister tinge, and the surreal aspects of the plot increased. But would good win through in the end? 

In 1988, now aged forty-eight,Timothy bought his house and met the woman of his dreams. "Snow White's Cottage", that's what his friends dubbed his quaint new home.Of course, Timothy declared he was a yuppie - moving into the property owners' class. And also an Oink (remember all those acronyms so beloved of the 1980s? Dinky, of course, stood for "dual income, no kids yet", but "Oink" was definitely Timothy - "one income, no kids"!).

But then Mother called at Snow White's cottage with a basket of apples...

And the thudding noises coming from upstairs that Frank Baker heard when calling on Mrs Lumsden at her house later, in search of a suddenly missing Timothy, were not, as Mrs L said, Muriel doing her aerobics with Jane Fonda...

I won't spoil the ending, but Sorry! was a brilliant sitcom, and a few visits to the 1980s Lumsden family are a must if imaginative, high quality TV comedy is something you enjoy. 

But remember - no elbows on the table and make sure your handie-pandies are absolutely spotless before venturing in!

E-Mails: Henry's Cat, 1980s Tabloids, And Sportswear...

Dinky has written to say he/she is fed up:

Why no Henry's Cat here? It was a brilliant '80s cartoon, first broadcast in 1983, and from the fabulous Bob Godfrey stable. I like this site because it really does try to resurrect the 1980s on its own, no "cut and paste" from other sites here, but to leave out Henry's Cat and Chris Rabbit, etc, is an abomination!

Heck, Dinky! I would say "sorry", but Henry's Cat IS mentioned on this blog! You can read it here.

Furthermore, we'll be revisiting Henry's Cat, Chris Rabbit, etc, at a later date. Of the Bob Godfrey animations, Henry's Cat was our absolute favourite. HC was, of course, created by Stan Hayward. The show was first broadcast on 12 September 1983.

 We recently received an e-mail about the children's series Press Gang as well, which began late in the decade. We've never actually seen that, but we have put it on our list to study for possible future inclusion here.

UPDATE: As a small token of our esteem for the wondrous yellow moggy, we've included him in our updated header illustrations! How do we love him? Let us count the ways... but Chris Rabbit is probably our ultimate fave. x

Helen writes:

I love your feature on the tabloids of 1980/1981. What a turbulent time it was! Is there any chance of more tabloid material? It really ignites a feeling of "being there" for me.

Thanks, Helen. There will be more.

And, finally, Waldo says:

The '80s sportswear posts are a dream come true for me as I love the fashions of that decade and they help me to know what is what on eBay. Can we expect more stuff like this?

You can, Waldo! I must say, the '80s were such a packed decade, it is hard to please everybody and to pack everything in. Each year seems to be bursting at the seams with trends and events. But we'll continue trawling the decade and bringing what we can to '80s Actual. If only we didn't have a day job!

1980s Fashions... Suitable Trends For Today?

1986 - posing overdrive for women...

 Looking around, I see many 1980s-influenced fashions around me. The leggings. The deelyboppers. The blonde hair streaks. The gelled or moussed look. '80s sportswear-influenced designs on outdoor coats and modern sportswear. Stone and acid washed jeans. The turned back/pushed up jacket sleeve look. I've even seen jelly shoes! And lots more... 

Clearly (although many hate to admit it) the '80s are now highly influential in the modern fashion world. Here's a few tips from a few UK mail order catalogues of the 1980s for those who want to get the look just right... 

Male posing for the 1980s... the trouble with the pushed up sleeve effect is that they keep coming down. The '80s look is very high maintenance indeed. Try walking with your arms close to your side, or buying a jacket with a nice contrasting inner lining so that you can solve the problem by turning back your sleeves instead of pushing them up.

Where Jane Fonda first flew in 1982 with her Workout video, others soon followed. Aerobics woz 'ere. In fact, as the '80s went on, sport and fitness became a positive mania, and sportswear became ever more colourful and expensive as we entered the era of designer sports fashions. Fit for business. Fit for life.

"It's my broker!" grins the geezer on the chunky phone, seeking to impress. Looks like a right yuppie, doesn't he? Love the suit. So very stylish... And by the mid-1980s, style was what it was all about. Well, the '80s idea of style, that  was.

 Some great mid-1980s winter warmth jackets. I had the one on the left!

 Lustre look sheen fabric... the '80s shiny suit... brill! I've still got one of mine, a grey one with over large shoulders, and recall sliding down the wall at Tracy's Nite Spot in it after quaffing back a bit too much of the Reassuringly Expensive Stella Artois, circa 1987. I'd been leaning against the wall nonchalantly, eyeing up the talent, glass in hand, when I felt my descent begin.  I managed not to spill a drop.

"Hello, is Giles there please? It's his broker calling."

"Giles, it's your broker!"

"Tell him I'm in the bog, would you purlease, mateyboots?"

Something for 1986 kids. I'm absolutely positive that the lad on the left is (then) future pop star Chesney Hawkes (remember that rascally early 1990s hit The One And Only? We do. But we wish we didn't).

Late 1980s - terrific designs for posey male sportswear, hugely influential on the 1990s, and still influencing today's sports fashions.

1989...

Making a splash in '89...

Black leggings, ending around the knee, swept into fashion around 1982. And were still up there in 1989.

More from 1989. That belt looks really industrial, doesn't it? What did it mean? Search me...

And a last blast from 1989... Hot off the beach... WOW!

But suppose you've seen all these delights, you've thought it all through, and you don't want to adopt ANY of these swingorilliant  '80s trends?

Well, suit yourself.

There's no accounting for taste...

Memories of 1983 - Jimmy The Hoover - Tantalise...

I've been thinking a lot about 1983 lately. I have my reasons! But a good one I can share with you is the fact that the summer of 1983 was much nicer than this one! And tangled up with the memories of that summer is the refrain "Wo Wo Ee Yeh Yeh" - courtesy of Jimmy The Hoover, an English pop band which had formed in 1982. Seems so strange to think that 1983 is thirty years ago. I'm getting old! But the memories of my youth remain strong and stop me from feeling TOO old! By the wonder of YouTube, enjoy Jimmy The Hoover above.

1980s TV Ads: Shredded Wheat - "Bet You Can't Eat Three!", Nina Myskow and Ian "Beefy" Botham...

One of the most successful  and best-remembered TV ad campaigns of the 1980s was for the breakfast cereal Shredded Wheat, featuring several screen and sports stars, and the tagline "Bet You Can't Eat Three!"

News Of The World TV columnist Nina Myskow launched into one of the ads' stars, England cricketer Ian Botham, in 1983 whilst the ad campaign was in full swing. 

What, I wonder has the cricketing disaster Down Under done for the sales of Shredded Wheat, so heavily advertised by Ian Botham on telly? And yes, his bum does look as if he's stuffing down at least three at each sitting. Does a spoonful now turn to Ashes in his mouth?

Ouch, Ms M! The gentler sex? Oh, yeah... Poor old Beefy...

Capturing The 1980s Sporty Look...

Fashion snobs like to call this Adidas top "classic" (don't mention the '80s), but actually it's pure 1980s.

Pete has written:

OK then, you say the 1980's were great for fashions! How would I wear an 80's sporty look without looking like a complete and utter dick head in a shell suit type thing?

Like the above! I wore this today and it's glorious. It dates from the mid-1980s when sportswear was becoming more colourful and the "80s casuals" thing was in full swing. The colour scheme and design was new and groundbreaking, and simply screams "1984! 1985! 1986! 1987!" Wear and enjoy! Similar designs do crop up on on-line auction sites now. Keep a look out!

E-Mails: 1980s Flexi-Lamps, And A Sharp Radio, TV, Cassette Combination...

Laura has written for help in dating a couple of items she has recently found in her store room.

Both look '80s, but I'd love to be able to date them properly!

Well, Laura, going on the descriptions you sent, I think the red domed flexi desk lamp you mention came from Habitat, first appearing as "New" in the 1982/1983 catalogue. It was available in red or black.

The Sharp TV, radio, cassette combination stumped me at first, but I think I've found it in the Spring/Summer Brian Mills mail order catalogue. Hope these are the items you have!

Coronation Street: Alf Roberts In The 1980s...

From the TV Times, 27 September - 3 October 1986:

Alf's got it right 

Grumbling may be one of the characteristics of Coronation Street's Alf Roberts, played by Bryan Mosley, but his corner store is top-of-the-shops for service according to a recent national survey.

A shopfitting group's study says Alf has got it just right with his sense of service, and many other grocers in the North of England follow his example.

 You know, for all the changes in the world of TV soap opera in the 1980s - the arrivals of Brookside and EastEnders - resulting in a more political (often very Left Wing) and "in yer face" approach which soon began to infiltrate the older soaps - some things remained constant. One of those was Alfred Roberts of Coronation Street. He'd first appeared in the soap way back in the 1960s, and there he was throughout the 1980s, a central figure in the ongoing saga, stood there behind the counter of the Corner Shop - and, indeed, taking on solitary command of the place.

These days, Coronation Street seems to harbour lots of villains - even serial killers are not unknown - and buildings explode and people die horribly and there's generally a lot of aggro. The '80s "gritty"approach has given way to sheer sensationalism.

One building which exploded in more recent years was the Street's Corner Shop, blown-up by a mad woman.

Back in the 1980s, such a story-line would have seemed absurd.

For almost the entire decade - from mid-1980 onwards - the shop was solely owned by the aforementioned Mr Alfred Sidney Roberts (Bryan Mosley).

Alf's wife, Renee (Madge Hindle), died in a road accident in the summer of 1980, and Alf inherited the shop.

He took on Deirdre Langton (Anne Kirkbride) as shop flat tenant and shop assistant later in 1980, and so began Deirdre's long, on-off association with the Corner Shop.

1985 Corner Shop mug. The shop sign bore the name "Alfred Roberts" from 1981 to 1985, when Alf had the shop converted into a mini market. The sign over the frontage then read "CORNER SHOP" and "ALF'S MINI MARKET" was emblazoned on the front window.

 Changing times at the Corner Shop... two views from 1985.

Alf was never afraid to move with the times when it came to the items he stocked, even though his attempt to sell courgettes in 1981 failed miserably because his customers had no idea what they were and were not impressed with them when they were explained, but he brought tremendous change to the shop in 1985, when he masterminded its conversion into a mini market. However, despite the trendy new image, Alf also valued tradition and the words "CORNER SHOP" were prominently displayed on the  main sign over the door, for the first time in the show's history - previously the sign had simply been emblazoned with the name of the current owner and sometimes such descriptive gems as "Provisions". "ALF'S MINI MARKET" was painted on the new front window.

Alf also honoured the traditional aspects of Corner Shop life by continuing to sell barm cakes.  Part of the shop's "soul" they were, he said. Yep, old Alfie loved the Corner Shop!

Twice widowed Alf was never happy alone, and 1985 also saw him marrying the brilliantly squawky Audrey Roberts, marking actress Sue Nicholls' graduation from occasional to full time regular Corrie character. Audrey didn't really like the Corner Shop,  just saw it as a necessary evil to keep the dosh rolling in. She assisted there as little as possible, and once wreaked havoc when she was let loose with the pricing gun.

All in all, awful Audrey led Alf a merry dance - turning his life upside down with her spend, spend, spend attitude and a ready-made family.

Audrey was most unhappy living in the flat above the Corner Shop, and wanted to move somewhere more befitting her new station in life. She was not best pleased when Alf bought No 11 Coronation Street, but decided to make the best of things.

In 1987, local independent councillor Alf faced a challenge from Deirdre Barlow, who campaigned with a faintly feminist agenda and a concern for local kids and road safety issues.

Deirdre won, and Alf suffered a heart attack.

Also in 1987 Alf employed Sally Webster (Sally Dynevor) as his assistant at the shop.

"I don't care what you say - boot polish isn't as good as it was in the old days - nowhere near!" Percy Sugden (Bill Waddington) gets on Alf's wick.

In 1989, Audrey made a determined attempt to get away from Coronation Street, persuading Alf to buy a posh house in another part of Weatherfield.

But the chain collapsed, and the couple were forced to move back into the Corner Shop flat as No 11 had been sold to the MacDonald family.

But as the 1990s arrived, Audrey finally got her wish, and she and Alf relocated to Grasmere Drive.

Alf and his years at the Corner Shop are now distant memories, but there's no doubt that they are remembered fondly by many Corrie fans.

Was Alf a mean man? Well, maybe a little, but it must said that after he died Audrey was dismayed to discover that there was rather less money than she had thought. It seemed that his caution had been justified and perhaps he'd let her have her way with the dosh rather too much.

Could Alf get wound up? Ooh, yes - he definitely had a slightly short fuse.

But most of all, Alf was a kind and decent man, a good friend and neighbour to many and a respected part of the Weatherfield community.

After the character died, I suddenly realised just how much I liked Alf, and just what a necessary role he had fulfilled in the show - as an everyday man in an area noted for its beautifully OTT characters.

Alf was everyday, none of his traits were terribly colourful or outstanding, he never set the screen alight with his exploits.

And yet I never found him boring - thoroughly enjoying the stability he brought to the show.