Written by Paxton Quigley

Thursday, 2 August 2018

image for Where are they now? Brentford Nylons Elizabeth, you shocked me in more ways than one

Those were the days or rather the nights. The nights when you and your blonde teenage girlfriend would indulge in carnal pleasures, all snug and warm in her single bed in Willesden with its Brentford Nylons fitted sheets and pillow case. (Sorry, am I reminiscing too much here?) In the morning, you'd reluctantly drag your sweating exhausted body away from her charms and set foot out of the bed only to be laid out by a massive charge of static electricity.

Brentfords, the former Brentford Nylons business, was eventually sold at a knock-down price and the new owner did not think the name worth having.

Brentford Nylons was one of the best-known and least-loved names of the 1970s. It never shrugged off the image of electro-statically charged sheets, and an advertising campaign starring the disc jockey Alan Freeman, so it was sold to Roseby's, a Rotherham-based retailer. Roseby's promptly dropped the name which then disappeared into history.

The chief executive of Rosebys, said: "Our research showed that the stores' main weak point was the name. People would sooner be seen with a plain white carrier than a Brentfords bag."

It took decades for the Brentfords name finally to go the way of the striped tank-top and the drip-dry shirt. The stores enjoyed their heyday in the 1970s when nylon sheets were popular, but lost favour in the design-conscious 1980s. The name was changed simply to Brentfords, but the business could never shrug off its downmarket image. The 90 stores made a loss of £2.3 million in 1997.

In the end, Brentford Nylons will always be remembered for two things: uncomfortable bed clothes and the Alan Freeman advertising campaign. Richard Perks of Verdict Research, said: "The Nylons part of the name always lingered and it was synonymous with nasty, sweaty sheets. It will not be mourned."

I also don't mourn your Brentford Nylons sheets but I do still remember you, Elizabeth.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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