that unify every British child of the ’70s are myriad. On the telly there was (Glynis Barber, say no more), the memory of your parents hurriedly covering your eyes during the sexy bits of and, because things weren’t quite bleak enough to cheer everyone up of any evening. The pop charts were full of now-disgraced lascivious men in stacked heels, represented by now-disgraced impresarios and introduced by now-disgraced disc jockeys. Driveways were packed with Marinas, playground arguments were largely over who was the sexiest member of Pan’s People and, inexplicably, Joe Bugner was everywhere. And that is only the tip of the iceberg of the misery.
