Did you have a twin tub? It was the miracle of 1960s washing machine technology that literally shook the kitchen!
Let's take a look at it...
The twin tub bridged the gap between the mangle washers of the 1950s and the front loaders of the 1970s. Finally the days of cranking washing between two rollers to wring it out were long gone!
A twin tub is just that: a washing machine with two upright tubs - one for washing, one for spinning. Genius!
It also needs no plumbing in. You fill a twin tub with a hose that fits on any sink tap. Then it heats up the water - and I mean heat! In the '60s we liked to properly boil our washing.
First you did your whites: pop them in the first tub and let the agitator do the rest...
Once they had been scrubbed, boiled and violently agitated in a seething maelstrom of Daz you dropped them into the spinner tub...
Then you retreated to a safe distance! The spinner really shook the room, but it also recycled the water back into the washer tub teady for the next load. It was simple, economical and very thorough.
Twin tub washing machines may seem a faff nowadays, but compared to the tub and mangle washing they were a genuine godsend for families.
And they had other uses...
Because the twin tub could heat water and then pump it out it was a quick and convenient way to fill the bath up on Friday nights - no more waiting for the gas water heater to do the job!
A good twin tub wasn't cheap. However they did last: top loaders are less complex than front loaders, plus you don't need to plumb them in.
There are still many people who swear a good twin tub washes better than any modern upright. They certainly steam the kitchen up, but they do recycle the water.
So here's to the twin tub: it was the true soundtrack to the '60s in so many ways!
More inventions another time...
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Given the current heatwave, I feel obliged to ask my favourite question: is it time to bring back the leisure suit?
Let's find out...
Now we all know what a man's lounge suit is, but if we're honest it can be a bit... stuffy. Formal. Businesslike. Not what you'd wear 'in da club' as the young folks say.
So for many years tailors have been experimenting with less formal, but still upmarket gents attire. The sort of garb you could wear for both a high level business meeting AND for listening to the Moody Blues in an espresso bar. Something versatile.
Today in pulp I look back at the publishing phenomenon of gamebooks: novels in which YOU are the hero!
A pencil and dice may be required for this thread...
Gamebooks are a simple but addictive concept: you control the narrative. At the end of each section of the story you are offered a choice of outcomes, and based on that you turn to the page indicated to see what happens next.
Gamebook plots are in fact complicated decision tree maps: one or more branches end in success, but many more end in failure! It's down to you to decide which path to tread.
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.