We’re talking hair, a constant source of worry in the days before conditioners, mousses and all the other aids that we take for granted today. It had to be protected from the ravages of sun, salt and sand, which meant squeezing it into a tightly fitting rubber helmet, with or without enormous rubber flowers attached, or tucking it in safely under a large headscarf.
When hairspray became generally available, in the 1960s, things changed. Now women could run into the sea with all the carefree abandon of men, without having to worry about the effect on their hair. When beach showers appeared, all that was required was a quick splash, a towel, a comb, and a can of spray before you rejoined the crowds on the esplanade. Even for fashionistas, the sea no longer held any fear.
Recently, in Paris, I came across a tiny, old-fashioned chemist of the sort you can still find trading there. It stocked piles of brightly coloured rubber swimming hats from the 1950s. They brought back such a flood of teenage memories that, for a brief second, I imagined I could smell the faintly erotic mixture of hot rubber, suntan oil and sea that permeated the British beach at that time. Memories of publicity shots of Ava Gardner and Elizabeth Taylor — who both increased many a man’s libido — were with me once again. Slightly disconcerting, but most enjoyable — which is the way nostalgia should always be.