Brycreem is up for sale. No, I don’t mean the pots and tubes of the men’s hair grooming product. I mean the whole company.

The conglomerate Unilever is streamlining its portfolio of brands and selling off the ones it doesn’t want.

To be honest, I’m amazed it’s still around 86 years after it was invented by the County Chemical Company in Birmingham.

Originally it was only sold to barbers. “Anything for the weekend, sir? How about a dollop of Brylcreem? Guaranteed to keep your hair in place and make you look like a real smoothie.”

It became synonymous with men’s grooming in the 1930s and 1940s – short, slicked-back hair and a parting created with a slide rule.

During the Second World War they used an RAF officer on their posters and the men of the RAF became known as the Brylcreem Boys.

Unfortunately, the model they used for the poster wasn’t actually in the services.

He was a chap called Tony Gibson who was subsequently jailed for being an unregistered conscientious objector. And the hair product that had been used to keep his unruly locks under control wasn’t even Brylcreem. The barber didn’t have any and used a rival product.

Still, the advert worked a treat.

After the war the company was the first to use sport stars to promote Brylcreem. In 1950 they paid Denis Compton, who played cricket for England and football for Arsenal, £1,000.

In the 1960s England football captain Johnny Haynes got £1,500 for a three day photo shoot and in 1997 David Beckham got a reputed £4m four year deal – until he shaved his head after three years. The follicles of youth.

The latest Brylcreem boy was cricketer Kevin Pieterson who negotiated a deal close to £2m.

My father wore Brylcreem in the 1950s, but then he’d been in the RAF where it was compulsory.

The lyrics to their jingle, which I suspect was mainly used in the United States, were: “Brylcreem, a little dab’ll do ya. Brylcreem, you’ll look so debonair! Brylcreem, the gals’ll all pursue ya! They’ll love to run their fingers through your hair.”

Which was unlikely. If they did, they’d have enough oil on their fingers to give the gears on a five speed bike a thorough lubrication.

Those were the days when it was impossible for a young chap to run his fingers through a girl’s hair either because of back-combing, beehives and hairspray. You never knew what you might find.

I never used Brylcreem but preferred to go au naturel. And no, that doesn’t mean without clothes.

On occasions I used Amami Wave Set which fixed a quiff in place like concrete. Get the movements wrong when kissing a girl good night and you could knock her cold out with one swift dip of the head.

Brylcreem struggled during the years of long hair and unkempt locks, but it adapted to the change that saw the emergence of gels and punks and hair fashions that defied belief. Plus, of course, the return of Mad Men styles of slicked back hair.

Its future may now lead to a buyer in India or China but it has left a lot of memories.

And probably a lot of well greased five speed bikes.