In case our foreign friends - or those of you born after 1980, have never heard of them before, the Teds were a peculiarly English phenomenon of the 1950s (originally). Ted is short for Edwardian, which is supposedly where their historical vein runs back to. Check Wikipedia if you are lazy, or for entertaining tales of infamy, speak to any man down your local boozer in their late 40s (or older) whose towering quiff is still held in place with 1/2 a tub of Brylcreem, has brothel creepers with a 2" crepe sole, sports an American style bootlace tie, but who most crucially is wearing a drape jacket
(see photo). Teddy Boys went through several make-overs, but even with the advent of Mods and Rockers, they always maintained independence. Crash helmets and big hair don't mix so their preferred mode of transport was the bus, or for the more well-to-do, the likes of the American styled (but English) Ford Zodiac, or Vauxhall Cresta.
I first came across the writings of Mick Phillips in the pages of Performance Bikes magazine. I was on an aeroplane, and spat my powdered orange juice on to the neck of the passenger in front with an uncontrolled splutter. I immediately texted Gary that this man should be on the staff of Sideburn magazine. It turned out they were already best mates. He now lives in Rome, and although I have never met him in person, we have become pen pals. He has become a crucial pin in our operation; not just writing funny stories, but dotting our 'i's and crossing our 't's as a medically meticulous proof reader. But not until tonight when he emailed me this transparency, did I ever suspect he had been a Ted. BP
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