This month, Platinum columnist and Loose Women presenter, Jane Moore, heats things up with a trip down memory lane.
Words: Jane Moore. Images: Shutterstock and various brands.
The trend for open-plan living seemed like a good idea at the time.
One massive downstairs space filled with light from both ends of the house: what’s not to love? But as the cost of living continues to bite and with winter now setting in, homeowners will be gritting their teeth from the cold and the thought of all the costly energy it takes to heat a knocked-through space.
Consequently, interior designers are reporting a trend for smaller, separate spaces again to effectively turn rooms back into the cosy nooks we created in the days before there were state-of-the-art radiators in every room. There’s also been a surge in sales of heavily lined door curtains to stop any slithers of cold air from sneaking in.
As a kid, we didn’t have central heating. When the winter nights drew in, we kept ourselves warm with a portable Calor gas fire that we rolled from room to room. Luckily, in those days, there was only one TV set to watch – black and white in our case – and no recording devices, so chances are we were sitting together in one place each evening anyway.
The fire was a bit pongy and a right pain when the gas canister ran out and had to be refilled at the local hardware shop, but it certainly belted out sufficient heat to stop us perishing in the bleak midwinters. Our front door opened directly into our living room, so we pulled an aforementioned thick curtain across it at night, and my mum made a caramel-coloured corduroy “sausage dog” draught excluder to run along the bottom and “stop all the heat rushing out of the door.”
When it was time for me to go to bed – usually just before Mum’s favourite programme, The Sweeney, or the like, came on – my “heating” came solely from a hot water bottle, a chunky bedspread, and winceyette sheets and pyjamas. To this day, I don’t sleep well in an overly heated room because I find it oppressive.
When I went to stay with my grandmother, her heating arrangements made our Calor gas fire look like the height of modernity. She had a coal fire and that was it. Worse, whenever I stayed with her in Fleetwood, Lancs, it was always my job to fill up the coal scuttle from a small bunker in the back yard. Some nights, it was so cold that I could clearly see my breath.
She taught me to roll up pieces of newspaper into long tapers, which she would then tie in a loose knot and place under the coal to get the fire going, and there were small, brick-shaped firelighters too that stank of paraffin.
Hot topic
Anyone from Gen Z to Gen A listening to a trip down energy lane by an old baby boomer like me will have little to no concept of what I’m on about, particularly as the majority of them will have grown up with central heating as the norm.
Indeed, my own dear offspring used to roll their eyes when I started to tell them about it. “Here she goes again with her Monty Python routine,” they’d laugh, because I once made the mistake of showing them the Four Yorkshiremen sketch on YouTube where the characters try to outdo each other over who had the most impoverished childhood.
But now that they have moved out and have their own energy bills to pay? They’re not laughing quite so much at my fond reminiscences about simpler, less expensive times.
I switched off my heating in April this year and only just switched it back on again towards the end of September, so I’m bracing myself in readiness for my first winter bill. I’m lucky in that I can afford to pay it, but the cost still makes me gasp. Little wonder that, for those less well off, it is described as a choice between heating and eating.
As I write, my jumpers are coming out of the attic for my staple winter wardrobe of long-sleeved, heat-tech t-shirt, followed by a tight cashmere jumper and topped off with a chunky knit cardigan. On particularly cold days, I’m fond of wearing a pair of full-length thermals under my jeans.
I may look like I’ve covered myself in glue and run through a Mountain Warehouse sale, but at least I won’t be cold.
Jane’s diary
I get my live music kick each year at Big Feastival held on the Cotswold farm of my friends Alex James of Blur (pictured with me) and his wife Claire. Better still, there are loads of delicious food stalls. This year, Snow Patrol headlined. Fantastic.
Buy of the month
I needed to fill some wall space and found an excellent seller on Etsy called WilbrahamCollective that prints old book covers in various sizes. I bought a large print of Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, but there are plenty of other options and funny mock-ups too. (Prices range from £24 upwards, depending on size. Visit etsy.com.)
Look of the month
Given that our eyebrows are so prominent, a little TLC to them can take years off you. I got mine professionally dyed and laminated for my daughter’s wedding (more of which next month).
Look out for Jane’s regular column in each issue of Platinum, or read her previous column here!
