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We were the fun-loving criminals

I'm honestly of the opinion that people of my generation know how to have fun. More so than my kids' generation, that is. We had no fear of social media. Otherwise I would have been arrested in my youth. Very inappropriate pictures would have found their way on to Facebook, and I would probably have lost my good, pensionable job.

My kids seem to stay in an awful lot more than I did at their age. The fact that, growing up, I had only a black-and-white telly and two channels was probably a contributory factor. Some people were lucky enough to have a blue cellophane thing over the screen to give it a hint of colour. We didn't, so I went out. My son sits on the couch with one eye on the telly, one eye on his laptop and his phone in his hand. We had no way of communication except the phone in the hall. This we used for furtive whispered conversations on which my mother unashamedly used to endeavour to eavesdrop. And then start screaming and gesticulating that I was the sole cause of the ever- escalating phone bill. So we had to go out. It was either that or sit at home and wait for my parents to go out, in order to use the phone. Or sit and stare at a black-and-white television. We really had to go out.

We didn't have so many hang-ups either. Our appearance was important but not tantamount to our ability to have fun. I met people most days for a drink after work. In my work uniform. And I often ended up in a night club. In my work uniform. Now they would rather die roaring with their legs up than go out in their work uniform. Oh my God, I couldn't possibly go out in my work clothes like, OMG.

False tan didn't exist. We went out and bared our mottled purple limbs and didn't give a damn. Like us or leave us.

In fact, the work uniform was often an asset to us and used by the opposite sex as a chat-up line.And it was long enough to cover the purple legs. I might start wearing it again.

Sunday Independent