Christmas morning in 1970s Britain felt like a different world. You woke up shivering, ice traced across the inside of your bedroom windows. Downstairs, someone had already switched on the paraffin heater, and its sharp smell drifted up the stairs. The pop man had dropped off glass bottles days earlier. You sat in front of the TV, watching Test Card F, waiting for real programmes to begin — because nothing aired before nine. These weren’t cherished traditions or things anyone planned. This was simply what Christmas morning was. Every household did the same things without a second thought. And now, all of it has vanished. If you were there, you know exactly what’s been lost.