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A collection of childhood memories from the 1950's
Childhood Memories
Childhood memories, where to begin? Maybe when my older brother decided to wash my hair but rather than using shampoo he used glue. Not a happy occasion for a five year old, particularly one who was very proud of her long blonde hair. Needless to say the hair was cut but in what can only be described as a pudding basin style, no it wasn’t fashion way back in the 1950’s but purely because my mother could not afford to take me to the hairdressers, well we didn’t really do hairdressers in those days.
The next rather embarrassing memory which has just popped into my mind, making me giggle and turning my cheeks into a bright shade of red, involves belly dancing. I was eight years old and a rather chubby child. My brother and I had watched one of the Carry On films and I was fascinated by a scene involving a rather shapely belly dancer which may have been Barbara Windsor, but I’m not sure. However after the film ended I rushed to the dressing up box to find some old net curtains and a few plastic jewels. Sticking a jewel on my forehead with glue (yes that dreaded substance again) I stripped down to my large baggy navy blue school knickers, wrapped the grey washed out curtain around my body, making sure that my largish and flabby belly was exposed and performed for my brother who by this stage was in hysterics which neither helped my self esteem or gave me any incentive to become a dancer. Strangely enough my daughter is a skilled belly dancer and certainly looks better in her costumes than I did.
Finally my thoughts have drifted to bullying and whether I was ever subjected to it particularly as I was overweight. Yes I when I was nine I was bullied by a girl called Linda who lived on our street and was three years older than me. She regularly taunted me about being fat and accidently on purpose would push me over. On one occasion I was playing outside my house and Linda came along, hit me and pulled my hair. We got into a fight and Linda ripped my dress. The dress was quite special as it had been made by my grandmother and had little sea horses dancing around the blue material. I went indoors crying showing my mother my ripped clothes and balding head where chunks of my locks had been ripped out. What happened next would probably not be accepted today but my mother took me by the hand and marched me to Linda’s house where we found her laughing behind large gate. My furious mother demanded that Linda put her arm through the fence, which the stupid girl did and I was told to bite her arm, which I did. I know it sounds horrendous but I suppose that is how issues were resolved on a working class housing estate during those times. Needless to say Linda never bullied me again and we eventually became close friends.
Memories from long ago when life seemed much simpler and straight forward.
The next rather embarrassing memory which has just popped into my mind, making me giggle and turning my cheeks into a bright shade of red, involves belly dancing. I was eight years old and a rather chubby child. My brother and I had watched one of the Carry On films and I was fascinated by a scene involving a rather shapely belly dancer which may have been Barbara Windsor, but I’m not sure. However after the film ended I rushed to the dressing up box to find some old net curtains and a few plastic jewels. Sticking a jewel on my forehead with glue (yes that dreaded substance again) I stripped down to my large baggy navy blue school knickers, wrapped the grey washed out curtain around my body, making sure that my largish and flabby belly was exposed and performed for my brother who by this stage was in hysterics which neither helped my self esteem or gave me any incentive to become a dancer. Strangely enough my daughter is a skilled belly dancer and certainly looks better in her costumes than I did.
Finally my thoughts have drifted to bullying and whether I was ever subjected to it particularly as I was overweight. Yes I when I was nine I was bullied by a girl called Linda who lived on our street and was three years older than me. She regularly taunted me about being fat and accidently on purpose would push me over. On one occasion I was playing outside my house and Linda came along, hit me and pulled my hair. We got into a fight and Linda ripped my dress. The dress was quite special as it had been made by my grandmother and had little sea horses dancing around the blue material. I went indoors crying showing my mother my ripped clothes and balding head where chunks of my locks had been ripped out. What happened next would probably not be accepted today but my mother took me by the hand and marched me to Linda’s house where we found her laughing behind large gate. My furious mother demanded that Linda put her arm through the fence, which the stupid girl did and I was told to bite her arm, which I did. I know it sounds horrendous but I suppose that is how issues were resolved on a working class housing estate during those times. Needless to say Linda never bullied me again and we eventually became close friends.
Memories from long ago when life seemed much simpler and straight forward.
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