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TOO OFTEN are the ITV stations tarred with the ‘eyes and teeth’ brush of tawdry showbiz. Here was one independent afternoon banker that was as unglamorous as the medium ever got. August 19th, 1969 saw Southern’s first colour transmissions hit the air with the orange and brown finery of the Houseparty kitchen-cum-lounge, a modernist, open-plan affair complete with Formica surfaces and Hessian wall-weave, lovingly recreated in Southampton’s studio 1. Punctuated by the occasional guest-introducing doorbell (“I wonder who that could be?”), the mumsy Ann Ladbury and the patrician former model Cherry Marshall (later joined by daughter Sarah) led a genteel, open-ended stream of chat among half a dozen personable housewives over the Poole pottery chinaware, with the viewer as casual eavesdropper.
‘Eavesdropping’ was the key. The whole thing literally fell onto the air, with nary a title sequence or theme tune to its name, just the ladies appearing underneath the good old Southern compass ident, in mid-chat (sometimes mid-sentence) and trundled on, with the viewer neither acknowledged nor appealed to, until the close, where a few credits would flash on the screen, and the ladies would fade out, carrying on their business. It’s the sort of odd format that would generate reams of over-excited copy from media studies wonks if it surfaced today, but back then it was what it was – a quick dip in to a never-ending cavalcade of teatime banter, with absolutely nothing added.
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Loose Women this was decidedly not. Half-formed rants about the news were a no-no (unless it was helpful stuff to do with “prices”), and the phrase “isn’t that right, girls?” was conspicuous by its absence. Instead, knitware, cookery and macramé were the order of the day, the raciest it ever got being when bras were tried on for size (over the twin-sets, of course). Lucy Morgan, the glamorous one, showed off the natty little numbers she’d picked out in the local jumble sale, and crafted handbags from Victorian tea cosies. Sylvia Marshall (no relation) arrived and switfly rose to ‘head of the household’ status. Mary Morris was the redoubtable cook, often accompanied by the less able Daphne Lee or Karen Saxby in a ramshackle run-through of a recipe read off a crumpled piece of notepaper (“Is this a wartime recipe?”), which pre-dated Blue Peter‘s flour-spilling cackhandedness by a good few years.
Sadly, even this seemingly non-stop cosy camaraderie had to come to an end when Southern lost its franchise to the more socially ambitious TVS, and the final programme was appropriately emotional – no tears or anything of course, that wasn’t the Houseparty way, just a few rather touching goodbyes and one last round of tea. Well, they didn’t like to make a fuss.
Happy holiday memories dahn Sarf…”Southern Rhapsody”, Houseparty, How, Freewheelers…marvellous, isn’t it, wasn’t it, hmm?
My clearest Houseparty memory is of someone bringing out one of those personal alarm thingies you carry around in your handbag (coo, awareness of women’s issues!), and saying that it was 50 decibels or whatever it was. Then there was a slight pause and someone said “Tell me, Mary, what IS a decibel?”
Ah happy memories! As Cherry’s daughter, I can correct the copy to say that my name is Sarah, and my sister, Vida also came on the programme from time to time when she was visiting from Italy. My daughter, Jemilah, also came on the programme — I was a shock! horror! single mother, and Jemilah is mixed race, so it caused a bit of a stir when she was born, and also helped normalise this situation in the early 70s. If it happened to Cherry’s daughter then it *must* be OK…
Sylvia Marshall, also known as Marshie, was Cherry’s contemporary. She was a plus-size matron model on Cherry’s model agency, and took the name Marshall as homage. They were great friends, and Sylvia was the robust heart of the programme — pretty naughty with it, and probably was an early pre-echo of Loose Women.
I remember the last programme as a bit of an embarrassment, it was decided we would stage it as a fancy dress party, and we all looked mad! There were about 30 women then appearing on the programme, some just occasionals, unlike Cherry, Marshe, Ann, Lucy and Mary, but we all squeezed in for the final goodbye.
Hi Sarah.
I very dear friend of mine is the Son of Lucy
( Maureen Solomon ) who sadly died far too young.
Are there any clips of her and the show anywhere, I have seen a few but not with her in.
Regards
Matt
Many thanks for all this great info, Sarah. Marshall misattributions duly corrected.
Can I just say how much I loved this programme. I would watch it as a young mother and wish my life was more like that :)
Who was the tall elegant woman who wore silver jewellery and “arty” clothes? She made me realise that getting older didn’t mean turning into a frump so many thanks to her. I was just married and had moved out of London and watched whenever I wasn’t working.
Most likely my mother, Daphne Lee, sadly now gone but the jewellery lives on as I now wear it!
Raggot
I remember Maureen Solomon well and her children. The father of her youngest child is my cousin and her sister was married to another cousin. Long time ago but not forgotten.
Houseparty was good. Happy memories.
Lucy Morgan (Solomon) was my Mum – I am her daughter Lucy! I would love to see any videos of her as I don’t have any. If you have any please email lucysolomon@hotmail.co.uk
Thanks very much
:-)