Corduroy and Vampires

When I touch corduroy I think about vampires. Sometime during the 80s, I went with my parents to buy some new furniture and after hours of looking at red leather and plastic they eventually settled on a suite fashioned out of chocolate brown corduroy and chrome tubing. While they arranged delivery I sat in the armchair and took out the book I carried with me everywhere at that time - The Usborne Guide to The Supernatural World.

It was split into three parts - Vampires, Werewolves and Demons - Haunted Houses, Ghosts and Spectres (not sure what the difference is between a ghost and a spectre) - and finally Mysterious Forces & Strange Powers. Part 3 was a bit tame - Uri Geller, astral projection, fakirs and ESP blah blah. But the other two parts scared the shit out of me. You think 'Usborne', you think 'engaging', 'educational', 'child-friendly', 'nicely illustrated'. Hmm.

There was something about the 70s and 80s. They were just really...unsettling. Everything seemed bleak and gritty, though that might just have been because I grew up in a very dull northern provincial town where grey was a primary colour. But it seemed perfectly acceptable to scare the bejesus out of kids. Think back to any of the Public Information films you used to watch at school - they took time to build up suspense and tension, they were meant to frighten you to death and give you weeks of nightmares. Cheers.

I sat there gripping the chunky corduroy, half fascinated half terrified. It was a muggy summer's afternoon. There was a thunderstorm outside. The lights in the shop flickered. I didn't sleep that night.