There's a programme on the telly at pres. called "Back In Time For Tea". The premise is that an ordinary suburban family, who happen to live 50 yards away from yours truly actually, live for one week in the manner of a decade past, eating what people of the time ate and using the technology that was available then too. There are five episodes in the series, starting in the 50s and ending next week in the 1990s. Last night's episode took us back to the 80s, when I was in my young adult pomp.
The rather too neat meshing of the premise and and title makes me think they came up with the latter first, and worked backwards. No matter, it's very entertaining stuff. The producers hit the reality TV mother lode with the family they picked; they're perfect, unpretentious, intelligent, genuinely funny and also very game. They take the whole thing seriously enough to enter into the spirit of the age with gusto - even the children. And going back in time does involve some very real material privations, so the sacrifice of the youngsters is admirable.
The programme is unexpectedly enlightening too. It shows that most of the major lifestyle tropes that we associate with a particular era are driven by a technical innovations. The 60s saw the household introduced to nascent convenience food, increased consumer durables and the subsequent invention of the teenager. The 70s saw mothers forced into the workplace in increasing numbers due to the dire economic situation. This drove the need for more pre-prepared, convenience meals. Iceland and Bejams really took off in this decade. And the 1980s was the era of the microwave. I'd forgotten that people were actually advised to roast chickens in microwaves in the 1980s, because it was quick. Unfortunately, the bird came out cooked, but the colour of porridge. No matter though because you can simply then smother it in Marmite. Yum Yum.
The odd thing about last night's episode is that it made me feel all nostalgic, which is strange because I hated the 80s. It was the period when I came of age, but objectively it was not a pleasant time to be young. Unemployment was endemic and the culture was quite fractured and violent as I recall. I don't recall the music of the 80s with any great affection. It was The Jesus And Mary Chain or Johnny Hates Jazz, neither of which I had any time for. The Smiths were there at the beginning of course, but they burned out quickly, albeit brightly.
The fact that the programme was filmed in the very streets I grew up in probably helped my misty-eyed rememberances. It just goes to show I suppose that we all mythologise our own pasts. Now I've realised this, I might rework mine to include a bit more derring-do and gymnastic shagging than the current iteration. If Clare Grogan reads this, I apologise in advance.
The rather too neat meshing of the premise and and title makes me think they came up with the latter first, and worked backwards. No matter, it's very entertaining stuff. The producers hit the reality TV mother lode with the family they picked; they're perfect, unpretentious, intelligent, genuinely funny and also very game. They take the whole thing seriously enough to enter into the spirit of the age with gusto - even the children. And going back in time does involve some very real material privations, so the sacrifice of the youngsters is admirable.
The programme is unexpectedly enlightening too. It shows that most of the major lifestyle tropes that we associate with a particular era are driven by a technical innovations. The 60s saw the household introduced to nascent convenience food, increased consumer durables and the subsequent invention of the teenager. The 70s saw mothers forced into the workplace in increasing numbers due to the dire economic situation. This drove the need for more pre-prepared, convenience meals. Iceland and Bejams really took off in this decade. And the 1980s was the era of the microwave. I'd forgotten that people were actually advised to roast chickens in microwaves in the 1980s, because it was quick. Unfortunately, the bird came out cooked, but the colour of porridge. No matter though because you can simply then smother it in Marmite. Yum Yum.
The odd thing about last night's episode is that it made me feel all nostalgic, which is strange because I hated the 80s. It was the period when I came of age, but objectively it was not a pleasant time to be young. Unemployment was endemic and the culture was quite fractured and violent as I recall. I don't recall the music of the 80s with any great affection. It was The Jesus And Mary Chain or Johnny Hates Jazz, neither of which I had any time for. The Smiths were there at the beginning of course, but they burned out quickly, albeit brightly.
The fact that the programme was filmed in the very streets I grew up in probably helped my misty-eyed rememberances. It just goes to show I suppose that we all mythologise our own pasts. Now I've realised this, I might rework mine to include a bit more derring-do and gymnastic shagging than the current iteration. If Clare Grogan reads this, I apologise in advance.
