Best of British is the UK’s premier nostalgia magazine. Published since 1993, Best of British magazine is packed with stories and pictures guaranteed to bring the memories flooding back. Offering page after page of timeless reading, Best of British covers every aspect of life from the 1930s all the way through to today, recording the way it once was and demonstrating what makes Britain so special.
At the heart of the magazine is our Yesterday Remembered section, where we explore reader’s own recollections and memories of British life gone by. Add to this dedicated stories on everything from vintage transport to great Britons, from Christmas traditions to great days out, and you have the perfect mix. Other regulars include reader favourites such as Treasures in the Attic, Baking with Mrs Simkins, 1940s Post, Postcard from… and of course our Puzzle Page and Crossword.
We hope you enjoy reading our magazine as much as we love compiling it. In the meantime here is this month’s letter from our Editor, Chris Peachment…
E is for Elf and Safety
Welcome dear reader to this, our August issue. Have you noticed that everywhere you look nowadays there is a museum?
Britain used to be a great manufacturing nation and every town you visited had a steelworks, or a mine, or a car factory.
Nowadays all you will find is a “Heritage” site, staffed by locals dressed up in period costumes.
The Welsh Valleys still echo with male voice choirs but they are now employed by the local ‘Pit Experience’ Museum.
You may still find clog dancers and whippet racers, and even the odd brass band in Yorkshire but only at the ‘Eeyup, We’ll do you Proud’ Weekend at the Civic Workshop rather than a blast furnace.
What I would really like to see however is a Health and Safety Museum.
There would be a room entirely dedicated to pocket knives, especially those Swiss ones with 50 blades. And ten inch bowie knives that can be thrown at an apple on your younger brother’s head.
Young boys can be seen whittling down a length of wood for no particular reason, and cutting their fingers.
Then there would be a room lined with asbestos, held together with rabbit glue, whose distinctive smell could be inhaled without masks. And a room full of window-cleaners up ladders.
But the final room would be reserved for mobile phone users.
Here there would be someone shouting about their evening’s viewing on TV last night. There would be a young woman trying to walk through a dense crowd, her head down while texting.
Over there would be a school-run driver ploughing into some children while talking on the mobile.
And in the middle would be another woman explaining why she is going to be an hour late for your rendezvous, because her nail polish hasn’t dried. I know that as a species they haven’t yet died out, but we can live in hope.
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