Believing a new costume would boost his budding wrestling career, Adrian Street spent what little money he had on powder-blue knee-length boots and trunks and a velvet jacket with a silver lame lining.
Street imagined the crowd would hail his fashion instincts and admire his golden tan and luxuriant dyed blond hair as he strutted into the ring. But this was Britain in the early Sixties.
“Instead it was, ‘Woooo Mary!’ and the men were all saying, ‘Can I see you later?’ in these high voices with their wrists bent,” he recalled.
He was livid – “But I wanted to show them I wasn’t hurt so I played up to it, kissing my muscles and making sure my hair was just right after a move.
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