Trendy UK

Trendy UK Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Trendy UK, Glynne Street, Queensferry.

In the spring of 1953, excitement rippled through the streets of East London as neighbours came together in eager prepar...
24/12/2025

In the spring of 1953, excitement rippled through the streets of East London as neighbours came together in eager preparation for the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. Along rows of terraced houses, women in aprons and headscarves gathered with ladders and string, laughing and chatting as they fixed Union Jack bunting to lampposts, windows, and lines stretched across the narrow roads. Many of them had lived through the Blitz only years before, and now there was a shared sense of pride in turning familiar streets into something bright and hopeful for their families.

The days before the celebration were shaped by collective effort. Children were given jobs threading flags and carrying chairs, while older residents offered advice and recalled the coronation of King George VI in 1937. Kitchens filled with the smell of baking as sponge cakes, pies, and jellies were prepared for trestle tables that would soon run the length of the street. Even with rationing still part of daily life, neighbours shared freely, strengthening the bonds that held the community together.

When coronation day arrived on 2 June 1953, the streets burst into colour and sound. Red, white, and blue bunting fluttered overhead as music played, games began, and laughter echoed between the houses. For the women who had stitched and pinned every flag, it was more than a party. It was a moment of renewal, marking a new chapter while celebrating the resilience and unity that defined their community.

A South London shopfront from the early years of the twentieth century offers a striking glimpse into everyday life, cro...
24/12/2025

A South London shopfront from the early years of the twentieth century offers a striking glimpse into everyday life, crowded with painted adverts, confident lettering, and carefully crafted signs. The surface feels alive with voices, each word selling something essential, from soap and to***co to tea and tailoring. In a world before screens or neon, these messages relied on paint, glass, and brick, competing for attention through skill, placement, and pride in workmanship.

These faded markings, often called ghost signs, linger quietly on buildings even now. Softened by rain and time, they remain scattered across parts of London, silent witnesses to how people once traded, promoted, and earned a living. They speak of a slower pace, where shopping was local and advertising was personal, rooted firmly in the street and the community around it.

This is more than simple nostalgia. It is history preserved in layers of paint, still whispering stories to those who stop long enough to look.

Back when Britain seemed to move at a proper pace, life followed a rhythm that felt calm and purposeful. Days were not h...
24/12/2025

Back when Britain seemed to move at a proper pace, life followed a rhythm that felt calm and purposeful. Days were not hurried; people lingered for a chat on the corner, took time over a cup of tea, and found comfort in small routines. Neighbours knew one another by name, doors were left open, and there was room in the day to breathe. It felt like a country that moved with care, where moments mattered and nothing needed to be rushed.

The streets carried a quieter mood, untouched by the constant push of modern life. Shops shut their doors early, children played out until the light faded, and local pubs were places for stories and laughter rather than a quick visit. Travel was slower but dependable, with buses and trains that people trusted and planned around, not something to race against. That steady pace shaped how people worked and how they gathered, with patience and courtesy part of everyday living.

When I look back now, it feels like a gentler chapter in our story, a Britain where time felt like a friend instead of a pressure. That slower rhythm allowed space for reflection, gratitude, and real warmth. Remembering it is a quiet reminder that even now, we can still choose to slow down and hold on to what truly matters.

One of the simplest yet most treasured delights of seaside holidays in years past was gathering near the busy shoreline ...
24/12/2025

One of the simplest yet most treasured delights of seaside holidays in years past was gathering near the busy shoreline to watch a Punch and Judy show unfold. The brightly painted wooden booth stood proudly against the sky, the sharp jingle of the music box cutting through the sound of waves and gulls. Children pressed forward while adults hovered behind, all waiting as Mr Punch burst into life with his crooked grin and jester’s cap. His playful mischief, shared with Judy, the baby, the policeman, and the snapping crocodile, filled the air with laughter and familiar chaos that never seemed to lose its charm.

Punch and Judy was more than a passing amusement; it was woven into the fabric of the British seaside. Families wandered the promenade or settled into striped deck chairs, the smell of salt, fish and chips, and warm sugar drifting on the breeze. Skilled puppeteers brought the characters to life with quick voices and rhythmic slapstick, drawing cheers, gasps, and giggles from the crowd. For a short while, everyday worries faded away, replaced by shared laughter and a sense of togetherness that felt effortless and pure.

For many, memories of these seaside shows still stir a deep nostalgia, recalling summers that moved slowly and days that seemed endless. The enduring love for Punch and Judy reflects a tradition handed down through generations, simple yet powerful. Even now, thoughts of sunny beaches, wooden booths, and joyful laughter remain gentle reminders of childhood wonder and the lasting magic of the British seaside.

In 1968, the Lesney Toy Factory in Hackney Wick, London, stood as a bustling hub of creativity and industry. Famous for ...
24/12/2025

In 1968, the Lesney Toy Factory in Hackney Wick, London, stood as a bustling hub of creativity and industry. Famous for producing the iconic Matchbox cars, Lesney was at the heart of a thriving toy manufacturing scene that captivated children across the UK and beyond. The factory's lively atmosphere echoed with the sounds of assembly lines and workers dedicated to crafting tiny vehicles that would become cherished playthings for generations.

Located in the East End of London, the Hackney Wick site reflected the industrial character of the area, providing jobs for many local residents. Lesney's reputation for quality and innovation helped it grow rapidly, turning the factory into a landmark of post-war British manufacturing. The intricate processes involved—from molding to painting and packaging—showcased the skilled craftsmanship behind every miniature car.

This period marked a golden era for Lesney, as demand for their toys soared worldwide. The factory was more than just a workplace; it was a community where workers took pride in their contribution to a beloved brand. Lesney’s legacy from this time remains a vivid memory for collectors and enthusiasts, symbolizing both British industrial strength and the simple joy of childhood play.

David Bradley’s quietly powerful turn in the 1969 film Kes still stands as one of British cinema’s most affecting perfor...
24/12/2025

David Bradley’s quietly powerful turn in the 1969 film Kes still stands as one of British cinema’s most affecting performances. Only 14 at the time, Bradley stepped into the role of Billy Casper, a working-class lad from Barnsley who discovers calm, pride, and a fragile sense of freedom through caring for a kestrel. His performance was unshowy and deeply real, revealing the isolation, frustration, and inner strength of a boy growing up with few options and even fewer voices listening to him.

Directed by Ken Loach and adapted from Barry Hines’ A Kestrel for a Knave, Kes is revered for its stark honesty and emotional restraint. Shot on location in Yorkshire and spoken in authentic dialect, the film offered an unsparing look at 1960s working-class life, from joyless classrooms and cruelty at school to the shadow of the pits waiting at the end of childhood. Yet woven through the hardship is something gentle and lyrical, as Billy’s bond with the bird becomes a rare moment of beauty in a hard landscape.

Bradley never chased stardom, but his work in Kes left an enduring mark. The film still moves audiences because it tells the truth with compassion. It is not simply a tale of a boy and a bird, but a story about dignity, hope, and the quiet courage to dream when the world gives you very little.

This photograph carries a deep sense of history for our family. Mum and Dad are both gone now, along with three of the b...
24/12/2025

This photograph carries a deep sense of history for our family. Mum and Dad are both gone now, along with three of the brothers and sisters captured here. Only last week, the brother standing beside Dad marked his 80th birthday, a quiet reminder of how swiftly the years slip by. We believe the picture was taken around 1950, just behind St Martin-in-the-Fields near Trafalgar Square, a very London backdrop for a family with so many memories woven into its streets.

What feels most extraordinary is that ten of us are still here, living full lives, with ages ranging from 67 to 85. I am the youngest at 67, and despite everything time has taken, the closeness between us has never faded. These days it feels rare to see such a large family remain so tightly connected, and it is something we hold with real pride.

Looking back, it is clear Dad made up for the years he lost while serving in the North Africa campaign during the war. Ten children followed after his return, proof that once he was home, he embraced life without hesitation. This image holds more than faces. It holds a legacy shaped by love, resilience, and shared laughter, a joy that still seems to echo whenever we look at it.

This cherished photograph, thought to have been taken around 1949 on Harrow Road, captures a gentle moment between my Na...
24/12/2025

This cherished photograph, thought to have been taken around 1949 on Harrow Road, captures a gentle moment between my Nana and Grandad, Maureen and Stanley Roberts, as they lovingly push their first baby in a pram. It is a timeless scene that speaks of young love, fresh beginnings, and the quiet happiness of family life in post-war Britain. There is an unmistakable grace in the way they walk together, two people at the very start of their lives together, already laying the groundwork for a lifetime of love.

I am the youngest of nine grandchildren, and even as the years have moved on, my grandparents remain vividly present in my heart. Grandad passed away in 1998 at 82, and Nana, strong and caring until the very end, lived on until 2018, reaching the age of 95. Their absence is still deeply felt, yet the values they lived by, kindness, resilience, and quiet strength, continue to echo through our family.

Whenever I look at this photograph, I see more than a single moment in time. I see the love they gave, not only to each other, but to every generation that followed. I was 16 when we lost Grandad and 35 when we said goodbye to Nana, yet their influence still guides me. Even now, their presence lives on through shared stories, family traditions, and memories held gently in photographs like this one.

Back when the streets were our playground.No screens. No distractions. Just your mates, your imagination, and a back roa...
24/12/2025

Back when the streets were our playground.
No screens. No distractions. Just your mates, your imagination, and a back road that felt endless. We raced along the cobbles, climbed walls we were told not to, and only headed home when the lamps flickered on or Mum’s voice echoed down the street.

Back when a good clean meant beating the rug, scrubbing the step, and sending the kids outside to play. Mum in her apron...
24/12/2025

Back when a good clean meant beating the rug, scrubbing the step, and sending the kids outside to play. Mum in her apron, the washing line groaning in the breeze, neighbours leaning in for a chat over the wall. Honest work, tired hands, and homes filled with warmth. Who remembers days like that?

In the late 1960s, George Best was not simply a footballer, he was a moment in time. With his flowing hair, sharp featur...
24/12/2025

In the late 1960s, George Best was not simply a footballer, he was a moment in time. With his flowing hair, sharp features, and fearless way of playing, he caught the attention of far more than the crowd at Old Trafford. He played with a freedom that felt new, gliding past defenders and changing matches in a heartbeat. Fans spoke of him with awe, and after Manchester United’s historic European Cup win in 1968, where his influence was impossible to ignore, his legend seemed complete. That same year brought individual recognition too, confirming what supporters already believed, that they were watching something rare.

Away from the pitch, Best became part of a wider cultural shift. He moved easily through the glamour of London, appeared on magazine covers, ran a boutique, and dated famous faces. Footballers had never quite lived like this before. He represented a new kind of fame where sport met style and youth culture. But the spotlight was relentless, and the life that surrounded him carried temptations that grew harder to control. Drink and excess crept in, even as moments of magic still appeared on the field.

Though later years would be marked by struggle, George Best remains remembered for his brilliance. In an era when football meant hope and escape, he stood as proof that raw talent and daring could lift a boy from the terraces to immortality. For those who saw him then, no one else ever felt quite the same.

A woman pauses on the pavement and suddenly the street fills with laughter and reaching hands. Small boots scrape the gr...
24/12/2025

A woman pauses on the pavement and suddenly the street fills with laughter and reaching hands. Small boots scrape the ground and voices overlap with excitement and hope. It is not about what is being shared but the feeling of being noticed and included. Childhood lives in these seconds where kindness feels endless and the world feels close. You can almost hear the chatter and smell the cold air on coats. Long after the street has changed this moment stays alive because it reminds us how little it took to feel rich and safe. We carry these memories quietly and return to them whenever we need to remember who we once were.

Address

Glynne Street
Queensferry
CH51TB

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Trendy UK posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share