Having re-met a friend with whom I was at primary school more than fifty years ago, it was remarkable how much we still had in common and how little in so many ways he had changed. I suppose neither of has grown up if the truth be known. On a recent visit to his home the conversation (rather naturally for boys of a certain age) turned to Dinky Toys, and without ado he rushed upstairs returning with a small pile of yellow, and blue and white striped cardboard boxes. At this point I realised that I had disremembered his penchant for tidiness, keeping symetry in all things...even his fighting in the playground would be addressed with an almost Victorian pugilistic stance. I then realised that 50s boys were divided into two camps...those who returned their Dinky Toys to their boxes after play and those who merely chucked them in a box. I fell into the latter category, which also meant that mine were played with al fresco. An orange Field Marshall tractor pulled its blue plough through soft sand and made very passable furrows. A Leyland Octopus pulled its mighty load of pebbles up impossible inclines whilst the Capstan Full Strength badged J-type Morris van delivered soil to the building site. Quite what the Centurion Tank and Mighty Antar Transporter were doing there is a bit of a mystery but was perfectly logical back then - who wouldn't want a tracked vehicle leaving its imprint all over wet cement outside our Prefab's front door? The cheeky Commer drop-sided wagon hove into sight with another load of soil to be dumped ready for Green Field Marshall number two to harrow satisfactorily into the surrounding field. All this was accompanied by much raspberrying and gutteral roaring as we emulated these leviathans climbing a nearby stretch of the A11. Thus passed just one pleasant morning of our 1950's childhood idyll. An apple pie cooled on the window sill and the unmistakable aroma of seived tomatoes on toast wafted out into the garden when the sound of Dad's pre-war Light Fifteen Citroen approaching alerted us to 'dinner', which was years before lunchtime had been invented. My friends all disappeared back to their prefabs for their 'dinner' only to return in the afternoon and commence play from where we had stopped...with MY batterend, scratched but much-loved Dinky Toys, obviously. Theirs were safely stowed away to be produced years later with barely a mark of use upon them. I wish I'd had just a tiny part of that self control, because I love, absolutely love, the fragile evocative well designed packaging. Sadly the photograph is of the mobile phone variety which I handle badly, but you get the idea.
7 comments:
Blimey Jonners, Ashley will be all over this one like a rash. Just you wait.
Was there a Dinky/Corgi split? It was Corgi cars for us.
We older baby-boomers were rather sniffy about Corgi Toys (introduced 1956) and unfairly regarded them as the Johnny-come-lately's of the type. This probably came from the fact that many of us had hand-me-down Dinkys from older cousins or brothers which established the brand fully in our impressionable young minds. The other factor was that our local toy shop was Meccano through and through and wouldn;t have stocked Corgi for all the tea in China. Somehow Corgi seemed extremely modern to us...and you know what modern means! Do you know some people had the impertinence to suggest that Corgis were made in Japan? They weren't, nor in China, back then.
It was the racing cars that did it for me...the Silver Arrow, Bluebird, Maserati 4CLT and others, although I was very fond of my Mighty Antar tank transporter complete with Centurion tank! Later of course, there were Matchbox models, but by then I had moved on to Airfix....few of which were as durable as Dinkys.
This geezer also had a container full of matchbox toys too...the more unpopular ones like concrete mixers and dumper trucks mainly...apparently quite rare. And what about Lesneys Models of Yesteryear? Blower Bentley, London 'General' bus, Showman's Traction engine, etc...all mine with buckled wheels and hardly any paint.
I'm pretty certain that 'Matchbox' was the brand owned by Lesney. I had the great misfortune to know Les Smith's brother, Ron. A vile man.
"Sorry for coming in so late to this one lads" he says, blowing on his fingers and stamping snow from his boots. What can I say? This is a very evocative, brilliant post Jon. It's given me as much pleasure as my Trojan Cydrax van. For you all I can only once again heartily recommend Kim Sayer's utterly original book Dinky Toys.
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