Growing up in Sixties London, I remember having a Bakelite telephone; it would double as a stage weight should the local Am Dram troupe ever need it.

I was nine in 1966 when the change from letters to numbers began.  Overnight, Balham became 673 (Patrick McGoohan would have been horrified).

It was at this point that people thought about getting a novelty phone.  Having a Mickey Mouse phone was very popular.  I desperately wanted one so I didn’t have to say “Balham 0557” and could – quite legitimately – answer, “Hello, Mickey”.

Having had a phone which took up half the sideboard, smaller phones were suddenly the rage. Trimphones, with their distinct ring, was one such model.

I had a friend at school who could mimic the ringing of these phones.  I often went plane spotting with him and he’d cause havoc at Heathrow making his sound and seeing all the people working on the customer services desks answering their phones wondering why no one was at the other end.

Some people would regress and buy phones which existed at the beginning of the century.  The only problem with that was that you felt obliged, when answering the phone, to sound like you’re narrating a Pathé News story.  

Whatever phone you had, it was better than waiting for the party line to finish, pop next door or go to a public phone box.  Never did get those French lessons.