Aqua Manda: OMG! Mexborough Grammar School 1975!

Why was I watching Jack and George batter down some "slag's" door at 6.30am? Sarah Montague. It was her turn to sit in the big chair and her over-enunciation and total absence of interrogation skills (like witnessing a hamster 'offer-out' next door's Rottweiler) makes both my teeth and hair curl, which would be self-defeating, since at that time of the morning I'm usually running the GHD's through it. It was company I didn't have to share the facilities with.

The Sweeney: a socio-economic photo-fit. Every domestic adornment: the Crying Blue Boy; Auntie Betty's house in Harlington; Joker's Wild; Homepride flour graders; Caramac biscuits; Embassy coupons; Heinz Beans and Pork Sausages; and avocado green - lots of it. Every car: the Ford siblings, Granada and Capri - did we really think they were so cool and play that spotting game? Every item of clothing: cheesecloth shirts and flares - never throwing them away - can't anyhow; they're the boomerangs of high street couture. And on the "slag's" dressing table sat the distinctive Deco brown glass bottle of Aqua Manda.

Aqua Manda: Mexborough Grammar School 1975. We all wore it; our skunk-like trails merging to form one giant invisible stink-cloud that permeated the entire school. Why did we all want to be the same?

So many memories were being let out on day-release.

And then came the most persuasive exhibit illustrating just how far we've come and why we'll be in no hurry to go back: a branch of MACE in all its GUM-esque glory (it made we feel very moist eyed about Tesco) complete with a hanging banner near the checkout proclaiming, "We give Green Shield Stamps."

Green Shield Stamps: Doncaster Watergate Centre; ABC Cinema; Chelsea Girl; The Arndale Centre and that mad semi-pornographic gold statue of 'The Lovers' we used to take the 'p' out of.

For those not of a certain age, Green Shield Stamps (GGS) were a kind of prehistoric Clubcard. You had a book into which you stuck the stamps, how many you got each shop depended on how much you spent, and the books became progressively Dairylea-shaped as they got full. These were then exchanged for whatever you had set your heart on in the GGS catalogue. The barmy bartering rate meaning that a new cruet set would require the pulping of forestland the size of Bluewater to provide the necessary books. Night's in flicking through the GGS and Embassy catalogues!

There are those who think that the use of retro references is lazy. I disagree. Used creatively even the haziest reference can prove to be very clever and effective indeed. (Check out Gordon's 'Yes you can' campaign. See what I mean?) They provide us with a direct channel to the heart and the means with which to tap into the emotions locked within memories. 

I remember reading a quote from a well-known comedian in which he slated (rather peevishly) Peter Kay. He said that Kay doesn't do comedy; he does 'remembering'. There's something in that, but it works. And it continues to work. His shows sell out as soon as they are announced and his DVD's and books are record-breaking best sellers I seem to recall. It seems everyone wants to re-taste Rolla-Cola.

Sometimes our best memories are the things we can't remember. We need a spark, someone or something to draw them out, just like the newspaper and shovel my gran used to put across the fireplace to draw the fire. (What would HSE make of that today?) That's Peter Kay's genius.

And it’s no accident that his material is heavy on brands, because brands are the very best accelerants. They are conversational firelighters. They make people glow, just as Jack and George made me glow, all day, just like the Ready Brek Kid: Reginald Molehusband; Pineapple Chunks...