IT WAS Peter Mandelson’s granddad who championed the idea. Labour deputy leader Herbert Morrison decided we needed “a tonic for the nation”.

And that tonic would encompass the best of modern British invention and design, combining new ideas, ways of entertainment and innovations that would, as a newsreel of the time declared, give an “inexplicable lift to the heart”.

For many ground down by austerity in 1951, the response was lukewarm; why couldn’t all this money – £200 million at today’s prices – be better spent on housing the heroes who had recently come home from war?

But the government ploughed on, ordering up all manner of attractions, from the Telekinema, a 400-seat state-of-the-art cinema operated by the British Film Institute, which could even screen 3-D films to a dome of exhibits, a fun-fair and the unofficial symbol of the whole shebang; the Skylon.

Skylon resembled a metal cigar suspended on cabling above the exhibition space. To the 21st century eye it looks like something out of a particularly amateurish student sci-fi movie. But 60 years ago it was an object of fascination.

The design team for all this was not headed up by a grandee of architecture but, rather, the 38-year-old Hugh Casson, who swiftly recruited like-minded souls to his cause.

And this is where it gets interesting because, if you’ve ever wondered just what the Festival of Britain ever did for us, here is your answer: it’s influence is everywhere.

Even in Dorset. Particularly in Bournemouth, which was a major regional centre for the Festival, with classical concerts, opera, ballet and a visit from the Duchess of Kent, no less.

While hoteliers moaned that the London festivities would divert custom, and that the Bournemouth offering was not good enough, the public loved it. And why wouldn’t they when it promised such delights as the mighty HMS Vanguard moored in the bay, plus the first rendition of Beethoven’s Ninth at the Winter Gardens and an airship to be piloted – at a breath-taking 35mph – by the splendidly-named Squadron leader T P York Moore?

The two-week Bournemouth festival was opened by the Duke of Wellington who cheerfully recalled his own ancestor’s hand in the Great Exhibition which had taken place 100 years before.

By the time it finished here, even the hoteliers were impressed. But there was more. Because the strange, futuristic spirit of the Festival of Britain lived on as its physical architect Hugh Casson intended, in a slew of new buildings incorporating the principles of urban design that were a vital feature of post-war re-building.

If you’ve ever pondered on why the entrance to Boscombe Pier was listed in a controversial Heritage Department decision in 2004, then wonder no more; it’s a direct result of its connection to the Festival of Britain as a second glance at its geometric winged appearance suggests.

Architectural campaign group The 20th Century Society describes it as ‘a playful structure, much in the spirit of the Festival of Britain and it is a delightful architectural focus on the pier’.

It mirrors perfectly the nearby Overstrand development which, in turn, inspired design guru Wayne Hemingway’s revival scheme for the area. Hemingway’s admiration for the Festival of Britain will be demonstrated again this summer, when he takes part in the 60th anniversary tribute to it, which is being staged in London.

Hemingway is bringing his celebrated Vintage event to the new Festival and at this you can bet your Chelsea boots there will be plenty of reminders of those other Festival of Britain stars, Robin and Lucienne Day.

The furniture and textile designer were the style icons of their era. Virtually every British schoolchild of a certain age will have sat upon a Day Hillestack chair and it’s hard to open a magazine without spotting a fabric, such as Sanderson’s Dandelion clocks, which hasn’t been inspired by Lucienne’s iconic Calyx design.

The atomic-age, pioneering, futuristic spirit may have softened round the edges. But in truth, it never went away.

l New Festival of Britain from April 22.