Memories of my first flat came flooding back

Last week my younger son got himself onto the property ladder, by buying his first flat.

It’s been a difficult few months since he started looking at flats, as the property market is really healthy just now.

I’ve lost count of the number of viewings he’s had, the endless conversations about how much he should offer to secure the property, and at times we were all wondering if he’d ever manage to get an offer accepted.

We were delighted to be with him when he picked up his keys, and we were the first to get a tour of the new flat.

It took me back to my experience of buying my first flat.

It was 1985 and I had just started working as a primary school teacher. I earned a salary of £6000 a year, and I did not have any savings at all.

Yet I was able to go into the Halifax building society, show them my payslip and evidence that I had a permanent job and low and behold, they offered me a mortgage of £18,000.

How times have changed. £18,000 sounded a bit too much for me, so I bought a one bedroomed tenement flat in Dumbarton town centre for £15,000.

Like my son, I was delighted when I picked up the keys, and began to make it a home.

Back in my day, there was one big difference in making a flat into a home, and that was the absence of IKEA.

The first IKEA store to open in Britain came in 1987, and it was in Warrington, a bit too far to travel for bargain furniture and homewares.

Down through the years, IKEA has seemed to have the answer to every homemaker’s needs, and I’m sure I’m not the only person to go in for a coffee table and end up spending much more money on candles, napkins, and kitchen gadgets which seem like a good idea at the time.

And of course, a trip to IKEA isn’t complete without a visit to the café and meatballs and chips. They even do an excellent vegetarian version.

In my first flat, most things were second hand, a sofa from a friend, a carpet from a cousin, and even a twin tub washing machine from someone I worked in school with.

Pots and dishes were from my mum and dad’s house, and a black and white television was from their spare room.

This time around, my son is much more discerning, and try as I might, I don’t think I’m going to be able to get rid of much of the items I’m storing in the garage, most of which came from my mum and dad’s house when they went into the nursing home.

Apparently, he’s going for the minimalist approach.

Times have very much changed indeed.

I was very happy in my first flat, which my husband moved into when we married, and I wish him every happiness in his.