My brother and I were always travel sick when we were young. My parents had booked a coach (charabanc?) trip for us all as a special treat. Can't remember where now but possibly London or perhaps Windsor Castle. Anyway, my mother was so worried about us being sick and ruining the trip that she wrapped us both in brown paper secured with string under our clothes! Apparently she had been told this prevented travel sickness. Can't remember much about the day out but do remember bring wrapped up like a parcel and the relief of getting home and being released from it. I must say neither of us were sick tho. I'm sure if I had been older I would have refused but I think we were both under 10 and children were children in those days!
Verity - when I read this, I laughed until the tears ran down my face! And your last sentence was so true. If that's what you were told was going to happen - you didn't argue. I can remember my Mum doing all she could to coax my poker straight hair into ringlets, which, at the time, was a fashionable style, with a satin ribbon tied with a large bow.
Some nights, I would be "ragged", with each shoulder-length tress, twisted with bits of rag, and then twisted even further into circular shapes and secured with Kirby grips - I slept in those. Then another time, she would comb each piece through, having dipped the said comb in sugar water, and wind this round her finger, securing it each side, yet again with the Kirby grips. These methods were adopted, until I was about 4.
And then the real torture began. I was taken to Mum's hairdresser for a perm! At 4! You had your hair washed, sat in a chair, under a sort of umbrella, like a huge mushroom on a stand, from which loads and loads of contraptions, like rollers, were attached. The hairdresser pulled a roller down, which, in turn, was attached to a wire, and had anther piece clamped over it.
And, once all this was done, which took an hour, the electricity was switched on, and you sat like that for several hours, unable to go to the loo, or move. Eventually, you were released, and your hair dried, and beautiful ringlets appeared. But, the "perms" then were really permanent, and this torture only took place once a year.
I also remember quietly hating having Vic rubbed into my chest at the start of Winter, and having to wear a liberty bodice with rubber buttons. And I could smell the Vic. And I'm sure everyone else could smell it too, but then all my friends were dressed similarly, so I suppose we all had the aroma of Vic!!
Times have changed a lot and I am thrilled that today I'm having a facial, hair cut and blow dry.