One of the memories of Mrs Kathleen Burdett (nee Hinde) who was born in London in 1940.

I started work at 15 years old. I got a job in a shirt factory, making shirts. My mother used to work for the same firm donkeys years before. You had a year to earn your money, as you had to go on piecework. I never made it and left after a year. Then I went to a firm called Arthur Burtons, which made Dr. Whites and Southalls sanitary wear. Piece work again, but here I was OK and I stayed there until I was made redundant a few years later.

After that I went to make baby pants, piece work again. I then went to Gordon's Gin factory, where we bottled the gin and put the labels on the bottles. We were on an automatic belt first of all, then they opened up a belt for miniature bottles and I was put on the filler. Because of my size being small I guess they thought that I was miniature too!

The next belt I was to work on was also a hand belt, but because I was now experienced the bottles were nearly as big as me and they were heavy. Picking up the bottle with one hand, and judging the motion of the machine, you had to put the bottle into the machine and then mechanical arms would come from everywhere, gum the label, hold the bottle firm and put the label on the bottle. Then brushes would come down and smooth the label. You would take the bottle out with the other hand, at the same time picking up the next bottle with the other.

It was my husband's birthday in June. He wanted a chain bracelet, all the fashion at the time. I wanted to buy him one and pay for it weekly at the jewellers in Essex Road but I could not buy it for him unless I had someone to stand security for me (This had to be a man). I was so annoyed. I was the one paying for it. I had a job but I could not buy it.

Women didn't have the 'clout' in those days. So I got one of his friends to stand security for me, meaning he would pay if I failed to. Could you see the 'equal opportunities' standing for that now?

I became pregnant at the age of 21 and I had my son Wayne, in the December 1961, the apple of my eye. What an achievement, my very own little baby boy, who I could love and cuddle to my hearts content.

My other son Bradley was born in 1969. We had just moved in to a new flat in Packington Square in Islington. We thought we were so lucky to have been moved into a brand new flat. It was the first time that I was to have a fridge, first time for a washing machine and, never to be imagined, a phone.

We moved into the flat on the Saturday and my bed was delivered and put together on the Sunday. Bradley was born in that bed on the Tuesday. Phew what a close call, I thought I would have to have him on the floor!

I thought I was the luckiest person alive. Fitted carpet too, not a runner or mat, but a whole carpet, up the stairs as well. I can remember my feet seemed to sink into the stairs as I came up them. We were all so happy, we thought we were Kings and Queens. My husband and I had found our own castle. He was to die one year later.

My eldest son was eight years old and my baby was just one year old when my husband passed away. I was thirty, with two young ones to rear, and no qualifications. I wasn't trained for anything. All the factory work that I had done before had all moved out of London and gone up North or some such place.

We managed to get a flat in the buildings where we lived in Popham Street. We had gas light in Popham Street and this entailed having a pipe hanging from the middle of the ceiling, with two long chains hanging either side of the pipe. When you wanted the gas on you would pull one of these chains and light the gas mantle with a match.

God help you if you touched the mantle with the match, as it would mean that the mantle had a hole in it. The mantles were so delicate, you had to be so careful, the least touch and you would put your finger through it, and then you would have to buy another.

The mantle had three lugs on three sides and these were positioned on three lugs on the middle of the pipe in the ceiling. They had to be balanced, then burnt black, before you would turn the gas on and light it properly.

After about a year, a friend of mine got me a job in an office. I was very scared as I'd only done factory work. The job was at B.S.I. (British Standards Institute) the people who set the 'kitemark'. I started off as a despatch clerk and got a few promotions. I ended up being the Printing Co-ordinator of the print department. I was to stay there for nine years.

When they moved to Milton Keynes we had a choice of going there and B.S.I would help us buy a house. I never fancied this so I took redundancy. I went to live in Australia instead for two years.

When I returned back to the UK and got myself a job at London Electricity on the switchboard where I stayed for 13 years. At this time Arthritis had gotten a hold of me. I had to have a hip replacement and both my knees operated on, so I took early retirement.

I love to dance, especially rock 'n' roll, Ballroom and Latin, so it wasn't just the finish of my working life, but as far as I could tell, it was an end to my dancing. Dancing was my sanity, the only thing that had kept me from falling apart all those empty, lonely years, but I had the operations, four on my knees and the right hip replaced at the age of 56 years. I thought that would be the finish of me.

My eldest son is a successful businessman in the bank. When I got put off on ill health, he went halves with me to buy a cottage in Hertfordshire, where I am today. I persevered and went back to dancing and I still get compliments from other dancers, regarding my rock 'n' roll, ballroom and Latin dances. Not bad for a geriatric of 60 with a false hip and disintegrating knees, and I shall keep going as long as they will operate on me!