The day I took over as manager of the Odeon in Camden, an inner city suburb of London, was a big step as I would be in charge of a cinema, responsible for the presentation, screenings, staff and all that goes into entertaining the public.
The place had begun life in the 1920s as the Gaumont Palace, a luxury theatre with full stage facilities as well as the cinema screen. In the stalls and the circle there was seating for over 2,700 patrons.
In 1961, in line with the growing trend for popular entertainment, the Gaumont (as it was now called) hosted a bingo session on Sunday afternoons, run by Top Rank Bingo.
Just three years later the Rank Organisation took over the Gaumont and turned the stalls into a fulltime bingo club, with a separate entrance, and the circle was turned into a single screen cinema with almost 1,200 seats.
The foyer still maintained the ticket office and confectionery counter, as well as a stockroom, and the grand staircase led up to where the magic happened.
It was still a large complex upstairs, as well as the main office, with its own manager’s office taking up one section, plus a staffroom, the projection room and a manager’s flat which had been occupied for some years by the local assistant manager.
There was also a large area which had housed a projectionist training centre, with a fully operational projection room, during the 1960s.
In fact the place was big enough to ensure I kept a trim figure, thanks to all the walking I had to do, including going up and down the stairs at least five times a day.
Within my first week I attended the district manager’s regular meeting with managers and soon found out the difference between a London Odeon manager, even if it was in the suburbs, and managers in the rest of the country – we London managers had style.
This was mainly based on the dress code.
As I have said before managers, and assistants, wore a smart lounge suit with a plain shirt, a tie and appropriate shoes, up until 6pm.
At that time the manager would change into evening dress, with shirt and bow tie.
London managers would have the lounge suit, but often with a pastel shirt, rather than white, and tended to wear a silk tie (I’ve had a passion for silk ties ever since and probably have about 40 to 50 these days).
Evening wear was also black but in London we tended to have silk lapels and once again often pastel shirts with a ruffle down the front covering the buttons, and a butterfly style velvet bow tie.
I had shirts in white, light blue, and a pale brown, with a light blue ruffle, edged in black, and embroidered strip down the centre, a white ruffle with black edging, a pale brown ruffle with a dark coffee coloured edge and pale brown centre, and, finally, one similar to the brown only with burgundy edging. My bow ties came in black, navy, chocolate brown, and deep burgundy. I’ve still got them.
Looking back on those days it was really quite an affectation but we were mostly in our late 20s or early 30s and at the time London was still considered the style capital of the world and we felt we had to do our bit.
Mind you I have always been a snappy dresser when it comes to the workplace, normally wearing a suit (sometimes three-piece) with a smart shirt, with cuff links not buttons, and well-polished shoes.
Compare that at the time to the weekend me, in jeans and a roll neck sweater along with a pair of comfortable slip-on shoes, or, in the hot summer of 1976, just a cut-off pair of old faded jeans when I played in the garden with our two girls, or when Marion and I stretched out on sun loungers watching the girls have fun.
This current theatrical style life was a far cry from the Sooty Show.
Robin's Nest 