On the fading gloring of advertising characters…

Who needs the backend of the Guardian Magazine, when you’ve got Fústar… Here he revisits the unacknowledged past of Henry the Ulster Bank hippo and Fido Dido…

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  • A Simple Point

    Have we, Mick, entered some sort of competition with this post? I’m guessing, “be as self-parodic a comfortable middle class Belfast liberal as one possibly can be [winning entry gets a year’s free sub to The New Humanist]” – which is another way of saying, ALLUSIONS TO THE BACK PAGE OF THE GUARDIAN’S MAGAZINE ARE NOT UNIVERSALLY COMPREHENSIBLE REFERENCES!

  • Mick Fealty

    Oh dear…

  • Julian Robertson

    Mick

    Keep it simple. Just run a poll on whether we should get Jim Megaw and his dancing Crazy Prices letters back. He’s got my vote.

  • Mick,
    I’ve never been compared to the “backend of the Guardian Magazine” before. Is this a good thing? Perhaps it’s simply the term “backend” (with it’s connotations of posteriors) that I’m struggling with.

    Julian,
    My main memory of Crazy Prices is that visiting one of its stores involved being shouted at a lot (and very loudly). “FOR THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES, 20% OFF FAMILY PACKS OF FIG ROLLS!! THAT’S CRAZY PRICES!!!”

    …and so on…

    I’d imagine that sales of Aspirin were always high.

  • Mick Fealty

    fús,

    I don’t read it either, but I do get it read out to me occasionally on a Sunday morning….

  • dodrade

    I still have a Henry Hippo piggy bank.

  • dodrade,

    Please send it to me, Please.

    Failing that, send me some photos and I’ll pop them up on the blog. Go on, go on.

  • moochin photoman

    Found this bit of ephemera a few weeks back……………

    http://www.flickr.com/photos/23386031@N00/378138449/

  • Moochin,

    Oddly enough you’re probably far more likely to find quaint/racist (take your pick) ephemera like that than a Henry Hippo money box. There’s a collectors’ market for the kind of thing in your photo. There’s none whatever for the likes of HH. That’s the reason I feel affection for him and his ilk – it’s all viewed as utterly disposable rubbish (i.e. the kind of nonsense I regularly blog about).