Bathtubs, ‘weshing’ and deo-dorent

Bathtubs, ‘weshing’ and deo-dorent

As we progressed through our childhood it was when we were probably ten years old that we had a bath installed.  Of course the problem of where to put it was a big one, we had five rooms, two downstairs rooms, and three bedrooms, the original back bedroom had been divided into two smaller rooms so that we had three functioning bedrooms. In these three bedrooms were myself and Denis in one, and Kevin in the other, with the hot water tank. Gordon had by this time left to live on Clough Street in a soon to be demolished house, and I have no memory at all of Trevor living at home. The bedrooms were full. The bath could not go upstairs. The front room was just that, a room for keeping clean for ‘guests’, we never had any ‘guests’ in there that I remember, not living anyway, I do remember a couple of family members lying in state there, and even a neighbour or two.

So there was only the kitchen. As all kitchens that were added on to the original terraced houses, this one was narrow, and not all that long, but it did have a water supply and a drain. It was decided by default that the bath tub would go into the kitchen. A plumber was called and a green bath tub arrived one day. As I remember it, as you walked into the kitchen, there was a small fridge on your left, then some cupboards, the sink was attached to the right hand wall at the bottom, it one of those big, white stone sinks that are worth a fortune now, the cooker was next to that and then the back door. It was ‘very tight’ to use building vernacular. The cupboards beside the fridge were removed and the bath was put in its place, across from the oven doors. The bath tub had no taps, and we filled it using a hose from the sink. I assume that taps were either too expensive, or too difficult to install, but it had a drain, which ran outside the kitchen wall.

a green bath - luxury!

To make this bath multi function we had a hardboard top installed. This was hinged on the wall side, and could be lifted up when you wanted a bath. One very important thing was that the kitchen had been added on to the back of the house, right behind where a window was originally placed. This window still existed. From the living room you could see through this window into the kitchen, and of course vice versa. Not exactly the most private way to have a bath. But we had a worktop, even if it was only three feet of the ground, and a bath – yeah! No more tin bath and carrying water in from the kitchen, baths were still only weekly mind you, normally Sundays, before ‘Sunday night at the London palladium’ came on. On cold days we would light the gas oven and have the door open to stay warm, for houses with two foot thick walls they could be very cold, this was as close as I ever got to central heating until I moved into my own house many years later.





The question is, what did we do for washing and bathing before we had a bath installed? Simple, all bodily washing was done in front of the big white stone sink in the kitchen. I have vivid memories of dad having his nightly ‘wesh’ in front of the sink, I only ever so him ‘wesh’ his head, face and arms, whatever happened to the rest of him I shudder to think. He would roll down the collar of his shirt, tuck it back into the shirt itself and scrub his head and face. That was it. I never saw any part of his body washed at all, and this from a man who did physical work all day. Many years later after mum had passed away he came to visit me in Canada, he would not wash in the bathroom, he stood in front of the kitchen sink, and washed there. The first morning after his arrival I thought I had died, there was a knock on our bedroom door, and there was the ghostly white figure of dad standing in his white vest saying that he wanted ‘a wesh’ but he could not find any ‘soo-ap’ by the kitchen sink.



the man from the telly!



The wonder of our Granada rental television was that it brought many advertisements into our house. One day mum said that she would get some of that ‘deo-dorent’ for dad, because his arms ‘stunk’. Dad laughed and said it ‘wer reyt’ but mum was determined. She went into town to Tasker’s, Burnley’s first attempt at a supermarket, and bought a spray can of Autumn Roses deodorant, mum pronounced it deo-dorent, (she also wanted those new ‘flori-essent’ lights)



building where taskers was
on Turf st, Burnleys first
supermarket



Now dad was not a man to be dragged into the present, I am sure he would have been happy to stay somewhere in the early 1900’s, but mum was determined to rid him of his under arm signature. Dad pretended not to know how to use a spray can, for all I know he really may not have known, he could be very stubborn when he did not want to do something. Mum was having none of it, she told him to stand still and hold his arms up, there he stood, arms straight up in the air while she sprayed him under his arms. It was a weekly ritual, the original Kirkham version of the Saturday night special. Cleaning over with for another seven days they went to a pub run by our uncle and auntie called the railway hotel in Brierfield. Mum and dad worked there on a Saturday night and earned a bit of extra money, and I assume enjoyed a night out as well. What the customers thought when dad walked in with his new signature scent of Autumn Roses I can only guess, knowing those times only too well, he may well have been the only one in there with deo-dorent!