Let me introduce my pamphlet that came out last year. Bunty, I Miss You, published by the lovely Dempsey & Windle. And here is an extract –
1970 was bare legs and grubby socks,
and not getting into grammar school.
Wearing dresses that ripped under the
armpits, while running round the shop
for Bunty comic
But 1971 was sweating in ungainly blazers, and
striped knotted ties.
Feather cuts and two tone suits for some.
A satchel rattling round expanding thighs.
Bunty hanging on by a thread.
But 1972 meant tights and carrier bags full of
homework not done.
It meant David Cassidy, sanitary towels and
Bunty ditched from a great height.
1973 saw girls snogging boys but
only for the acne-free, not me and my mate.
We had to make do with reading Henry Miller,
he gave us what Bunty never could.
That man was so awful. And Syphlitic mermaid?!
What the Hell was that?!
Oh Bunty! I missed you.
1974, meant strikes and three day weeks,
grim and unforgiving.
Unwelcome groping during the blackouts,
by boys, waiting for their Dad’s to leave the pub.
Spots and greasy hair in abundance.
Unloved, and unenlightened,
making holes in my cheap tights
But 1975, brought a sub-world of disco’s
and cheesecloth, and Dynoflex.
Half lagers, and self-esteem.
Waking up, approaching womanhood.
The hard journey almost over,
those bastard grim days behind me.
Oh seventies, you finally saved my skin
….but I still held a grudge