Blog Posts

Notes by Alison Pickles Have you ever said ‘Yes’ when you know it should have been ‘No’? This morning I was buffing the 60s egg pod chair in our memorabilia shop. ‘But Alison, you love opera,’ Auntie Dottie was saying, arms splayed, palms upwards. ‘I’m busy!’ I returned, enjoying the heady aroma of beeswax. ‘Why pop picker, are you plastering antique polish on a plastic pod? I don’t want beeswax up my nostrils, doing battle with my Channel No.5 when I sit in the chair.’ My du

Random Reminiscences from Teenage Years by 60s Pop Star, Dottie Pickles We were excited the moment the theme music by Manfred Mann, ‘5,4,3,2,1’ began and we heard the catch-phrase, ‘The weekend starts here!’ Dottie Pickles, in her 60s Top of the Pops days. Rediffusion Ready, Steady, Go was a half hour pop music show broadcast in the UK by the Associated Rediffusion television company (renamed ‘Rediffusion’ in 1964). The show ran from 9th August 1963 until 23rd December 1966

Inside Biba 1967 Random Reminiscences from Teenage Years by 60s Pop Star, Dottie Pickles. Dottie Pickles, in her 60s Top of the Pops days. The Mini Jean Shrimpton caused a sensation when she wore a mini skirt to the Melbourne Cup in Australia, 1965. However, teenagers were already wearing minis, as this pic taken in Carnaby Street shows. My sister Eileen, who was nineteen (I was only eleven) loved the daring and exciting style. She told me at the time that wearing a mini skir

Pop Star Adam Faith marries Dancer Jackie Irving in 1967 Random Reminiscences from Teenage Years by Dottie Pickles I remember visiting Soho and hearing Adam Faith’s latest song, ‘You Make My Life Worthwhile’, coming out of the record shop, Musicland. That was in 1968, when I was 14 years old and began my singing career. Adam Faith, one of the top charted pop stars of the 1960s, was also one of the first UK singers to record original songs. These were penned by songwriters suc

Notes by Alison Pickles I do try to be patient with auntie, but honestly, sometimes... As I came down the stairs this morning into the shop, I saw Auntie Dottie standing in front of the full-size mirror. A white rimmed affair, the mirror was planted at the head of a clothes rail covered with dresses of the 1950s and 60s, thrown over the top like abandoned robes on poolside loungers. I watched Auntie Dottie twirl her prized black tail comb and tease her blonde bob into an even