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My mother used to complain bitterly about the pensioners who queued at the Post Office for their pensions. You might say she was entitled have a moan. However she was well into pensioner age herself and doing exactly the same thing. But pensioners were famous for moaning and we accepted it. We thought rather smugly that we would never be the same.

After all, we were the generation who danced at Woodstock and wore flowers in our hair. Although that might be a bit of poetic licence!

Our parents seemed old. Mother wore crimplene frocks and slacks with father wearing zipped up jackets from Greenwoods. They listened to Vera Lynn, Liberace, Donald Peers and the Billy Cotton Band Show. But oh dear! Time has caught up with me! Instead of the killer heels I wore in the 60s I now wear shoes made for comfort and the Ugg boots I wear in Winter look suspiciously like the ones my mother bought from Timpsons!

However generally, we are distinguished from the last generation. We don’t dress as befits our age. We wear skinny leggings, tight jeans and animal print T-shirts which we buy from Next or Zara, or online. We enjoy a few glasses of wine when we eat out, and that can be at restaurants with food from all over the globe.

A woman cleaning the paving with a donkey stone in yesteryear

But, we do moan. We complain about queues, the rubbish on television, and loud music and we find with horror that bands that we knew and loved are doing the rounds as ‘Sounds of the 60s’ tribute bands. Our grandchildren have the Beatles in their history GCSE syllabus.

We complain how young policemen, doctors and teachers look these days, about the weather, price of everything, buses, and the behaviour of young people.

My mother used to say exactly the same! However, she did also have a lot to say about housewives who didn’t rinse their milk bottles out before putting on the front step for the milkman, and about those who didn’t ‘donkey stone’ the steps. We are more likely to moan about people taking up our parking spaces or the quality of goods in our weekly home delivery from our chosen supermarket!

I’m sure our children will be different. But will they?

Looking Back: Oh no, the Beatles are now part of history exams!