IN 1981, News Shopper reported the launch of a festival in Bromley and published a photo of the mayor playfully slapping a custard pie into the organiser’s face.

It seems one Bromley resident mistook this for a violent assault and feared the mayor had become a power-crazed super-villain.

I say this because a few weeks later News Shopper had a front page headline of Jobs For The Unemployed and underneath there was a photo of a man in a home-made Batman costume.

Presumably he thought he could get an annual salary for wearing his mum’s tights while protecting the people of Bromley.

But if his vigilante skills were as poor as his costume-making, it is more likely he was the one in need of protection — from his own incompetence.

I’d like to know if this man really was a Bromley Batman, so if anyone recalls seeing a man in black tights passing out from his own smoke bombs in 1981, please get in touch.

Flicking through News Shopper in 1981, it is obvious Bromley Batman was not the only one in ridiculous clothing.

But to be fair to the residents of south-east London and north Kent, it does seem there was no alternative to the hideous styles available.

Look at this list of hairstyles available at Pia Bang salon in Woolwich: perm, big perm, even bigger perm, comedically oversized perm and perm wig glued to bald head.

One man who managed to avoid the 1980s fashion trends, or ever being fashionable, was kilt-wearing bagpiper Ailean Nicholson.

On September 19, 1981, he helped raise awareness of his friend’s new wine shop — Cheers, in Albany Park — by playing the bagpipes outside the store.

The story said: “Ailean paraded around the area alerting the neighbourhood to the new shop.”

I’m no marketing expert, but if I’d been there, I’d have asked the owner of Cheers the following question: Will the sound of bagpipes draw people towards your shop or drive them away with their fingers in their ears?