How long ago was this taken? Well, I guess I’m 5ish in this shot. Minus my current age, 45. So about 40 years ago. Give or take a year or two. My grandparents used to take my younger brother and I on caravaning holidays in Kent during the summer. This photo pushes my memory to its limit. I have only the most vague recollection of that white Renault, but I know that I liked it. Not long after this holiday, my grandad bought a green Vauxhall Cavalier. That was the first car he ever bought from new, and would see him through to the end, which came in the summer of 1994.
Old photos keep popping up. Here’s a triple feature, with what is surely the oldest photo I will ever post. That will be the black and white one. Of course. It’s a photo of three or four generations. It was all explained to me, but I’ve forgotten. The babe is arms? That’s my grandad. I introduced him to the blogging world just a few weeks ago. His presence helps date this photo to the mid 1920’s. There was a date on the back of the photo, providing a birthday sometime in 1893 for the gentleman in the shot, my great grandfather. I suspect the oldest lady was plodding around London whilst Abraham Lincoln was sat on his throne in Washington.
Twelve months short of 70 years later, I appeared on the scene. Do you like those collars? They date this photo. Very much the 1970s. The decade of cursed fashion. But fashion can be replaced. Hereditary curses are harder to fix. See that feeble and clearly unsuccessful effort to form a side parting? It doesn’t work. I have a widow’s peak and need to look no further than my grandfather when seeking the culprit.
I also have two crowns. I don’t know who to point the finger at for those. If my hair is a certain length, I’ll wake in the morning with two devilish looking hair horns. So I try and keep my hair short. The net downside to all this is that I don’t/can’t have a hairstyle, per se. The side parting was soon abandoned for the ‘look’ as featured in the bottom photo. I’m sure you can pick me out by now.
But every cloud has a silver lining. A non-hairstyle is awfully easy to manage. Wash, towel dry, pat down, hit the streets. I don’t remember when I last used a comb. I’m guessing some time in the 1970s, shortly before that photo was taken…