Few Australian clothing brands have generated as much attention, controversy, loyalty, and international recognition as AussieBum. What began as a small Sydney-based underwear company evolved into one of the world’s most recognizable men’s underwear and swimwear brands, challenging conventions about masculinity, body image, and men’s fashion along the way.
Known for its bold advertising, innovative designs, cheeky Australian humour, and unapologetic celebration of the male physique, AussieBum transformed what many considered a mundane necessity—men’s underwear—into a lifestyle statement. Its story is not simply about briefs, trunks, and swimwear; it is also about entrepreneurship, changing attitudes toward men’s fashion, and Australia’s unique influence on global beach culture.
The Birth of an Australian Original
AussieBum was founded in Sydney in 2001 by Australian entrepreneur Sean Ashby.
At the time, the men’s underwear market was dominated by large international brands. Most products available to consumers were conservative, functional, and often uninspiring.
Ashby saw an opportunity.
Australia’s beach culture had long celebrated athleticism, confidence, and a relaxed attitude toward the body. Yet few underwear companies reflected this uniquely Australian identity.
His vision was simple: create men’s underwear that was comfortable, stylish, innovative, and unmistakably Australian.
The company adopted a direct-to-consumer model, selling largely online at a time when internet retailing was still relatively new.
This approach would prove revolutionary.
The Australian Advantage
Australia’s beach lifestyle became central to the AussieBum identity.
Unlike many international brands that relied on fashion-world imagery, AussieBum embraced:
Surf culture
Beach culture
Outdoor living
Athletic physiques
Australian humour
The brand projected an image that was simultaneously rugged and playful.
Its advertising often featured sun-drenched beaches, swimming pools, and athletic young men embodying what many consumers associated with the Australian lifestyle.
The company’s message was clear: these products were designed by Australians, for men who valued confidence and comfort.
Reinventing Men’s Underwear
One of AussieBum’s greatest achievements was recognizing that men increasingly viewed underwear as more than a hidden garment.
Throughout much of the twentieth century, men’s underwear was largely practical. Consumers purchased it for necessity rather than self-expression.
AussieBum helped change that perception.
The company introduced products featuring:
Bright colours
Contemporary cuts
Premium fabrics
Bold waistbands
Fashion-conscious styling
Men were encouraged to think about underwear in the same way they thought about shoes, watches, or sunglasses—as an extension of personal style.
The WonderJock Revolution
Perhaps no AussieBum product generated more attention than the introduction of the WonderJock range.
The design used innovative pouch construction intended to provide enhanced support and presentation.
The concept attracted widespread media attention and consumer curiosity.
What could have been a novelty product instead became one of the brand’s defining innovations.
It demonstrated the company’s willingness to challenge conventional assumptions about men’s underwear design.
More importantly, it generated global publicity.
Consumers around the world suddenly knew the AussieBum name.
Swimwear: A Natural Expansion
Given Australia’s close relationship with beaches and swimming, expansion into swimwear was almost inevitable.
AussieBum’s swimwear collections drew heavily from Australia’s long tradition of swim briefs and competitive swimming culture.
While much of the world shifted toward increasingly long board shorts during the 1990s and early 2000s, Australia retained a strong appreciation for shorter, performance-oriented swimwear.
AussieBum embraced this heritage.
Its swimwear designs combined:
Athletic cuts
Contemporary styling
High-performance fabrics
Distinctive Australian branding
The result appealed both to swimmers and to fashion-conscious consumers seeking alternatives to mainstream swimwear.
Global Success Through the Internet
A key factor behind AussieBum’s rapid growth was its early embrace of e-commerce.
Long before many traditional retailers understood the internet’s potential, AussieBum was selling directly to international customers.
This strategy allowed the company to reach consumers in:
Europe
North America
Asia
South America
The Middle East
Customers who had never visited Australia could purchase products directly from Sydney.
The internet effectively transformed a local Australian brand into a global phenomenon.
Advertising That Turned Heads
AussieBum became almost as famous for its advertising as for its products.
Its campaigns frequently featured:
Professional athletes
Fitness models
Swimmers
Everyday Australian men
The imagery emphasized confidence, fitness, and humour rather than traditional luxury fashion aesthetics.
Campaigns often generated significant discussion online.
Some critics considered them provocative.
Supporters viewed them as refreshing celebrations of body confidence and masculinity.
Either way, people talked about them.
In marketing, attention is often invaluable.
The Rise of Men’s Body Confidence
AussieBum emerged during a period when attitudes toward men’s appearance were changing dramatically.
Historically, fashion and body-image marketing had focused primarily on women.
The early twenty-first century saw growing interest in men’s grooming, fitness, and fashion.
AussieBum capitalized on this shift.
The company encouraged men to view underwear as something worth investing in and enjoying.
This approach resonated with consumers seeking products that balanced functionality with self-expression.
Australian Humour and Brand Identity
One reason for AussieBum’s enduring appeal is its distinctly Australian sense of humour.
The brand never took itself too seriously.
Marketing materials often incorporated:
Cheeky slogans
Playful language
Self-deprecating humour
Australian slang
This light-hearted approach differentiated the company from luxury brands that emphasized exclusivity and sophistication.
AussieBum projected accessibility and fun.
Consumers often felt they were buying into a lifestyle rather than merely purchasing underwear.
Competition and Innovation
As the company grew, competitors sought to replicate aspects of its success.
The men’s underwear market became increasingly crowded.
AussieBum responded through continuous innovation.
New collections explored:
Sustainable materials
Performance fabrics
Enhanced support systems
Fashion-forward cuts
Seasonal colour trends
Innovation became central to maintaining relevance in a rapidly evolving industry.
The LGBTQ+ Connection
Although AussieBum marketed broadly to all men, the brand developed a particularly strong following within segments of the LGBTQ+ community.
Its emphasis on body confidence, self-expression, and contemporary styling resonated with consumers who appreciated fashion-conscious underwear.
Importantly, the company maintained a mainstream identity while simultaneously attracting diverse customer bases worldwide.
This broad appeal contributed significantly to its international success.
Manufacturing Challenges
Like many clothing companies operating in a globalized economy, AussieBum faced the challenge of balancing quality, affordability, and production efficiency.
Consumers increasingly expected:
Ethical manufacturing
High-quality fabrics
Competitive pricing
Sustainable practices
Meeting these expectations required constant adaptation.
The brand’s longevity reflects its ability to evolve with changing consumer demands.
Beyond Underwear
Over time, AussieBum expanded well beyond traditional briefs.
Product lines eventually included:
Swim briefs
Swim shorts
Trunks
Boxer briefs
Athletic wear
Casual apparel
Accessories
Yet underwear remained the heart of the brand.
It was the product category that established its reputation and continues to define its identity.
A Cultural Export
Australia has produced many globally recognized exports, including films, music, wine, sport, and tourism.
AussieBum represents a less obvious but equally interesting cultural export.
Through its products and advertising, the brand introduced international audiences to aspects of Australian culture:
Beach lifestyles
Outdoor living
Relaxed confidence
Humour
Athletic traditions
Few clothing brands have communicated such a distinct national identity.
The Legacy of AussieBum
More than two decades after its launch, AussieBum remains one of Australia’s most recognizable men’s fashion brands.
Its success helped demonstrate that men’s underwear could be:
Innovative
Fashionable
Fun
Technically advanced
Culturally significant
The company challenged outdated assumptions about what men wanted from underwear and swimwear.
In doing so, it helped reshape the industry.
The story of AussieBum is ultimately one of Australian entrepreneurship, creativity, and confidence.
From a small Sydney operation to a globally recognized brand, it succeeded by embracing its Australian identity and understanding that modern men wanted more than simple functionality from their underwear and swimwear.
Through innovation, clever marketing, and a willingness to challenge convention, AussieBum transformed everyday essentials into fashion statements recognized around the world.
Its journey from Australia’s beaches to international markets reflects not only the growth of a successful company but also the changing attitudes toward men’s fashion, self-expression, and body confidence in the twenty-first century.
For millions of customers worldwide, AussieBum became more than a brand. It became a symbol of a relaxed, confident, and unmistakably Australian approach to life.
For more information, visit AussieBum Official Website.
Few items of clothing have become as instantly recognizable as the Speedo swim brief. Around the world it is known by many names: racing brief, swim brief, budgie smugglers, banana hammock, racing trunks, and simply “Speedos.” Loved, ridiculed, admired, and occasionally banned, the garment has become one of the most iconic pieces of sporting apparel ever created.
For nearly a century, the Speedo swim brief has been at the centre of changing attitudes toward sport, body image, masculinity, fashion, and public decency. It has clothed Olympic champions, lifesavers, beachgoers, bodybuilders, and generations of Australian men. At various times it has been regarded as daring, revolutionary, athletic, sexy, practical, and hopelessly unfashionable.
Its story is inseparable from Australia’s beach culture and from the evolution of competitive swimming itself.
Before Speedo: Swimming in the Age of Modesty
In the nineteenth century, swimming attire looked nothing like modern swimwear.
Men often swam in woollen garments that resembled short-sleeved one-piece suits. These costumes were heavy, restrictive, and became even heavier when soaked with water.
Social attitudes demanded modesty. In many places, exposing too much skin was considered inappropriate or even illegal.
By the early twentieth century, men’s swimwear had evolved into sleeveless tank-style suits that still covered much of the torso and upper thighs.
Competitive swimmers increasingly complained that these garments restricted movement and created drag in the water.
The stage was set for change.
The Birth of Speedo
The company that would become synonymous with modern swimwear began in Sydney in 1914.
Founded by Scottish immigrant Alexander MacRae, the business originally manufactured hosiery and underwear.
During the 1920s and 1930s, the popularity of swimming and beach culture exploded across Australia.
Australians embraced outdoor recreation, and beaches became central to national identity.
MacRae’s company began developing lighter, more comfortable swimwear that allowed greater freedom of movement.
The Racerback Revolution
One of Speedo’s earliest breakthroughs came in 1928 with the introduction of the “Racerback” swimsuit.
Although designed primarily for competitive swimmers, it represented a major departure from earlier swimwear.
The suit exposed more of the shoulders and back than previous designs.
Traditionalists were shocked.
Some regarded the garment as scandalously revealing.
Yet swimmers loved it because it improved performance.
The controversy surrounding the Racerback established a pattern that would repeat throughout Speedo’s history: every reduction in fabric generated public debate.
The Arrival of the Swim Brief
By the middle of the twentieth century, swimwear manufacturers increasingly experimented with shorter designs.
Competitive swimmers demanded garments that reduced drag while maximizing freedom of movement.
The swim brief gradually emerged as the logical solution.
Unlike traditional trunks, the brief hugged the body closely and eliminated excess material.
Its advantages were obvious:
Reduced water resistance
Improved mobility
Faster drying
Greater comfort during racing
Enhanced freedom of movement
For athletes, performance mattered more than modesty.
The Olympic Connection
The growth of the Speedo brief became closely tied to Olympic swimming.
Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, elite swimmers increasingly adopted streamlined briefs.
Television broadcasts brought competitive swimming into homes around the world.
Viewers became accustomed to seeing world champions wearing little more than a close-fitting brief.
The association between Speedo and athletic excellence became firmly established.
Olympic medals helped sell swimwear.
The message was simple: champions wore Speedos.
Australia’s Beach Culture
No discussion of the Speedo brief is complete without understanding Australian beach culture.
Australia’s climate, coastline, and outdoor lifestyle created an environment unlike almost anywhere else.
For much of the twentieth century, Australian beaches were dominated by practical swimwear rather than fashion-driven alternatives.
The swim brief became almost a national uniform.
It was worn by:
Lifesavers
Swimmers
Divers
Water polo players
Surfers during training
Beachgoers of all ages
For generations of Australian men, wearing a Speedo attracted little attention.
It was simply what people wore.
The Lifesaving Connection
Australia’s surf lifesaving movement played a major role in popularizing the brief.
Members of organizations such as the Surf Life Saving Australia required practical swimwear that allowed unrestricted movement.
The brief proved ideal.
It stayed secure in rough surf and provided minimal drag while swimming.
Images of bronzed lifesavers in red or navy briefs became iconic representations of Australian masculinity.
The International Divide
While Australia embraced the swim brief, other countries gradually moved in different directions.
In Europe, particularly around the Mediterranean, briefs remained popular.
However, in North America during the 1980s and 1990s, longer board shorts and baggy trunks became increasingly fashionable.
Cultural attitudes shifted.
Many younger men became self-conscious about wearing revealing swimwear.
As a result, the Speedo brief became associated more strongly with athletes, European beach culture, and Australia.
The garment’s practical advantages remained unchanged, but fashion trends had shifted.
The Rise of the “Budgie Smuggler”
Australia’s most famous nickname for the swim brief emerged in the late twentieth century.
The term “budgie smuggler” humorously suggests someone concealing a small bird inside their swimwear.
The phrase quickly entered Australian slang.
Unlike many fashion terms, it reflected Australia’s tendency to treat itself with humour and irreverence.
The nickname transformed what might otherwise have been an ordinary garment into a uniquely Australian cultural icon.
Even politicians, celebrities, and sports stars have found themselves photographed in budgie smugglers.
Body Image and Masculinity
The swim brief has always occupied a unique place in discussions about masculinity.
Unlike loose swim trunks, briefs reveal the shape and contours of the body.
This visibility has generated both admiration and anxiety.
At various times the garment has symbolized:
Athletic achievement
Physical confidence
Youthfulness
Body consciousness
Masculinity
Critics sometimes dismissed the brief as too revealing.
Supporters argued that it simply displayed the human body in a natural and practical way.
The debate continues today.
Competitive Swimming’s Choice
Despite changing fashions, competitive swimmers never abandoned the swim brief.
Elite athletes prioritize performance above all else.
The brief remains advantageous because it:
Creates minimal drag
Allows unrestricted kicking
Stays secure during racing
Reduces water retention
Although technological racing suits emerged in the late twentieth century, the swim brief remains a staple of training and competition.
Many swimmers continue to regard it as the most efficient swimwear ever designed.
The High-Tech Era
The late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries saw dramatic advances in swimwear technology.
Manufacturers developed fabrics that:
Reduced drag
Improved hydrodynamics
Dried rapidly
Resisted chlorine damage
Speedo became a leader in performance swimwear innovation.
Its advanced racing suits generated considerable controversy, particularly during the era of polyurethane-enhanced competition suits.
However, the classic swim brief remained part of the company’s identity.
Even as technology evolved, the traditional brief endured.
Popular Culture and Celebrity
The Speedo brief has enjoyed an extraordinary presence in popular culture.
Actors, athletes, models, and entertainers have all contributed to its image.
Some embraced it as a symbol of confidence.
Others became subjects of humour.
Unlike many garments, the Speedo brief rarely goes unnoticed.
It attracts attention precisely because it leaves little to the imagination while remaining entirely within the bounds of ordinary swimwear.
Fashion’s Cycles
Fashion trends have repeatedly declared the swim brief obsolete.
Yet each prediction has proven premature.
Periods of popularity have alternated with periods of decline.
In recent years, younger generations have shown renewed interest in classic swim briefs.
Part of this revival reflects broader trends toward vintage fashion and body positivity.
Many consumers appreciate the garment’s simplicity and functionality.
Why Men Still Wear Them
Despite countless alternatives, many men continue choosing swim briefs.
Common reasons include:
Comfort
Performance
Freedom of movement
Faster drying
Minimal tan lines
Athletic tradition
For swimmers and serious beachgoers, these practical advantages often outweigh concerns about fashion.
The brief remains one of the most efficient forms of swimwear ever invented.
Beyond the Stereotypes
The Speedo brief is often stereotyped as something worn only by athletes, bodybuilders, or older beachgoers.
The reality is far more diverse.
Men of all ages and body types continue wearing swim briefs around the world.
In countries such as Australia, Italy, Spain, France, and Brazil, they remain commonplace.
What one culture considers daring, another regards as entirely ordinary.
The garment’s reception often says more about cultural attitudes than about the swimwear itself.
The Enduring Legacy
Few pieces of sporting apparel have had the global influence of the Speedo swim brief.
Born from the practical needs of swimmers, it became a symbol of athletic performance, Australian beach culture, and changing social attitudes toward the male body.
Its design has remained remarkably consistent because its fundamental purpose has never changed.
It allows swimmers to move through water with maximum efficiency and minimum restriction.
That simple objective explains why, despite decades of fashion trends, jokes, and controversy, the Speedo brief continues to survive.
The history of the Speedo swim brief is ultimately a story of function triumphing over fashion.
From Sydney’s beaches to Olympic swimming pools, from surf lifesaving clubs to Mediterranean resorts, the brief has endured because it works.
It has challenged social conventions, sparked debates about modesty, and become one of Australia’s most recognizable contributions to global sporting culture.
Whether known as a racing brief, a Speedo, or a budgie smuggler, it remains one of the most iconic garments ever worn by men.
Nearly a century after its rise to prominence, the Speedo swim brief continues to do exactly what it was designed to do: help people move through the water as efficiently as possible, while carrying a cultural legacy far larger than the small amount of fabric from which it is made.
Few items of clothing are as universally recognized as the classic white Y-front brief. Loved by some, mocked by others, and worn by generations of men around the world, the humble brief has become one of the most enduring garments in the history of men’s fashion.
Known affectionately—and sometimes less affectionately—as “tighty-whities,” the Y-front brief has spent nearly a century supporting men through childhood, military service, athletic pursuits, working life, and old age. It has been a symbol of practicality, masculinity, conformity, comfort, and even comedy. Yet despite repeated predictions of its demise, the classic brief remains an important part of men’s underwear culture.
Its story is one of innovation, changing fashions, evolving ideas about masculinity, and the constant search for comfort and support.
Before the Brief: The Age of Long Underwear
Prior to the twentieth century, men’s underwear looked very different from what we know today.
For centuries men wore garments such as:
Loincloths
Breeches
Drawers
Union suits
Long johns
The most common undergarment in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was the union suit, a one-piece garment covering the body from shoulders to ankles.
While practical in colder climates, these garments were often bulky, restrictive, and uncomfortable during warmer weather.
As society modernized and clothing became lighter and more tailored, men began demanding underwear that offered greater freedom of movement.
The stage was set for a revolution.
The Birth of Modern Briefs
The breakthrough occurred in 1934.
An executive at the Chicago-based underwear manufacturer Jockey International reportedly received a postcard from the French Riviera depicting a man wearing a form-fitting bikini-style swimsuit.
Inspired by the design, the company developed a revolutionary new men’s undergarment.
The garment was introduced on January 19, 1935, under the name “Jockey Brief.”
It featured several innovations:
No legs
A close-fitting design
Knitted elastic fabric
A supportive front pouch
An overlapping fly opening
Most importantly, it offered support without requiring the leg sections found in traditional boxer shorts.
The product was an immediate success.
Chicago department stores reportedly sold thousands within weeks.
Men had never seen anything quite like it.
The Famous Y-Front Design
The defining feature of the classic brief was its distinctive Y-shaped fly opening.
This overlapping fabric construction created both convenience and support.
The Y-front quickly became the most recognizable characteristic of the garment.
Manufacturers promoted the design as:
Hygienic
Practical
Comfortable
Masculine
Supportive
The Y-front soon became synonymous with men’s underwear itself.
Even today, many people immediately picture the classic white Y-shaped fly when someone mentions men’s briefs.
The End of the Boxer Monopoly
Before briefs appeared, loose-fitting boxer shorts dominated the market.
Boxers had originally been developed for prize fighters and offered freedom of movement.
However, many men found them lacking in support.
The brief solved that problem.
Men who worked physically demanding jobs often preferred the additional support provided by the new garment.
Athletes quickly adopted briefs for similar reasons.
By the late 1930s, briefs had become one of the fastest-growing categories in men’s apparel.
Wartime Popularity
The Second World War significantly accelerated the spread of briefs.
Military organizations sought underwear that was:
Easy to manufacture
Comfortable
Durable
Space efficient
Millions of servicemen were introduced to modern briefs through military issue clothing.
After returning home, many continued wearing them.
As a result, the post-war years saw a massive expansion in brief sales throughout North America, Europe, and Australia.
The Y-front became a standard part of everyday male dress.
The Golden Age of the White Brief
The 1950s and 1960s represented the golden age of the classic white brief.
Manufacturers heavily promoted white cotton Y-fronts as the ideal underwear for modern men.
Advertisements emphasized:
Cleanliness
Respectability
Family values
Athleticism
Reliability
The colour white became closely associated with hygiene and purity.
For decades, many boys received their first briefs as children and continued wearing essentially the same style throughout adulthood.
White briefs became almost a uniform of masculinity.
Why They Were Called “Tighty-Whities”
The nickname “tighty-whities” emerged in the latter half of the twentieth century.
The term combined two obvious characteristics:
“Tighty” referred to the close-fitting nature of the garment.
“Whities” referred to the overwhelmingly white colour of most briefs sold during the era.
Although originally informal slang, the phrase eventually entered popular culture and became instantly recognizable throughout the English-speaking world.
Hollywood and Popular Culture
Classic briefs became deeply embedded in film and television.
Movie stars frequently appeared in them during scenes depicting ordinary domestic life.
The garment symbolized the average man.
Famous actors photographed in briefs helped normalize the style and even made it aspirational.
By the 1950s and 1960s, briefs were considered the standard underwear for men of all ages.
Virtually every major underwear manufacturer produced them.
The Rise of Television Advertising
Television transformed underwear marketing.
Advertisements featured athletic men displaying the benefits of supportive underwear.
Manufacturers promoted briefs as:
Comfortable
Masculine
Modern
Practical
The message was clear: active men wore briefs.
For decades, the image of a smiling athlete in spotless white briefs became a staple of advertising.
The Brief as a Symbol of Masculinity
The popularity of briefs reflected changing ideas about the male body.
Unlike loose boxers, briefs emphasized physique.
They highlighted:
Muscular thighs
Athletic builds
Physical fitness
As gym culture expanded during the twentieth century, many men viewed briefs as consistent with an active lifestyle.
The garment’s supportive design reinforced its association with sport and physical competence.
The Arrival of Colour
While white dominated the market for decades, the 1970s brought significant changes.
Manufacturers introduced:
Blue briefs
Black briefs
Red briefs
Patterned briefs
Fashion briefs
Men increasingly viewed underwear as an expression of personal style rather than merely a functional necessity.
Bright colours and designer waistbands appeared.
Yet white briefs remained the benchmark against which all others were measured.
Competition from Boxer Shorts
Beginning in the 1980s, boxer shorts experienced a major resurgence.
Several factors contributed:
Casual fashion trends
Greater emphasis on comfort
Celebrity endorsements
Fashion advertising
Many younger men embraced the looser fit of boxers.
The classic brief’s dominance began to weaken for the first time.
The Boxer Brief Revolution
The greatest challenge arrived during the 1990s.
Boxer briefs combined:
The support of briefs
The leg coverage of boxers
This hybrid design proved enormously popular.
Major underwear brands heavily promoted boxer briefs using athletes, actors, and celebrities.
Millions of men switched styles.
Industry observers predicted the eventual extinction of the traditional brief.
They were wrong.
Why Briefs Survived
Despite changing fashions, briefs retained several important advantages.
Support remained the primary reason.
Many men appreciated:
Secure fit
Minimal fabric
Comfort beneath trousers
Reduced bunching
Cooler wear in warm climates
Athletes, tradesmen, military personnel, and older men often continued wearing briefs regardless of fashion trends.
For them, practicality outweighed style.
Advances in Fabric Technology
Modern briefs differ significantly from their cotton ancestors.
Today’s versions often feature:
Moisture-wicking fabrics
Stretch fibres
Modal blends
Bamboo fabrics
Microfibre construction
These materials improve:
Comfort
Breathability
Durability
Shape retention
Yet the essential Y-front concept remains largely unchanged.
The Brief in Australia
Australian men embraced Y-front briefs throughout much of the twentieth century.
Generations grew up wearing brands produced locally or imported from overseas.
School changing rooms, military service, sports clubs, and family homes all reflected the dominance of the brief.
Many Australian men remember receiving packets of white briefs as routine purchases made by parents and grandparents.
For decades they represented everyday practicality rather than fashion.
Fashion Cycles and Revival
Interestingly, the twenty-first century has seen a revival of interest in traditional briefs.
Fashion designers have reinterpreted classic briefs using:
Premium fabrics
Contemporary cuts
Designer branding
Luxury materials
What was once considered old-fashioned has become retro-chic in some circles.
Fashion repeatedly demonstrates that styles rarely disappear completely.
Health and Comfort Considerations
The long-running debate between briefs and boxers continues.
Research has generally found that comfort and personal preference are more important than broad generalizations.
Many men simply find briefs provide the level of support they prefer.
The enduring popularity of briefs demonstrates that there is no single “correct” choice in men’s underwear.
Cultural Legacy
Few garments have had the cultural impact of the white Y-front brief.
It has appeared in:
Films
Television shows
Advertising campaigns
Comic strips
Sitcoms
Fashion collections
The garment has become a visual shorthand for ordinary manhood.
Whether portrayed seriously or humorously, the image remains instantly recognizable.
The Future of the Tighty-Whities
Nearly ninety years after their introduction, classic briefs remain widely available around the world.
While boxer briefs may dominate sales in many markets, millions of men continue to choose traditional Y-fronts every day.
Manufacturers continue refining designs while preserving the essential elements that made the original successful:
Support
Simplicity
Comfort
Functionality
The fact that the basic design has endured for almost a century speaks volumes about its effectiveness.
The story of the Y-front brief is ultimately a story of practical innovation.
Born during the 1930s as a radical alternative to bulky underwear, the brief transformed men’s clothing and redefined expectations of comfort and support.
From the Depression era to the digital age, from military barracks to suburban homes, from athletic fields to fashion runways, the classic white brief has remained a familiar companion for generations of men.
Though often joked about and periodically declared obsolete, the “tighty-whities” continue to survive because they perform their job exceptionally well.
In the history of men’s clothing, few garments have provided so much support—both literally and figuratively—as the classic Y-front brief.
Go-Set was the first Australian weekly newspaper which focused on Australian teenage popular music, culture and fashion. Its role was to bring these aspects of Australian life to its readership, Australian youth aged between 14 and 20 years old. In performing this role it also established and developed as an institution through which rock music journalists and writers in popular culture could flourish. Go-Set was able to provide this environment while being produced and published independent of the other mainstream presses at the time.
It was the first sixties newspaper to explore an emerging and developing Australian popular music industry. Go-Set did not remain locked in its 1960s persona and shifted its appearance and musical tastes to keep up with the changes that were taking place within its areas of interest. The dynamics of these changes were so strong that by the early seventies Go-Set was a significantly different paper in appearance to what it had been in 1966. Its decline and demise in 1974 was as much a condition brought on by crisis as had been its life in keeping in touch with, and reporting on the state of the Australian and overseas music and fashion.
It was because Go-Set’s life was short and crisis filled that we can use developmental psychologist Erik Erikson’s model for the childhood development as a means of explaining its history. Erikson theorised that as a child develops, it goes through a series of crises that allow it to mature and reach adulthood. These crises are psychosocial in nature. As they get older, human beings, by nature of their physical, intellectual and emotional growth become ready to face new life tasks. These new life tasks present an outcome that can be a successful graduation or a gradual impairment of the life cycle. Each crisis is a preparation for the next stage and so the child develops into adulthood (Erikson, 1958, 248). Erikson is saying that child defines itself in terms of the crises it experiences in growing older. Go-Set defined itself in terms of the crises it experienced as a result of being the only magazine in Australia covering the Australian popular music scene and its associated industries. Go-Set’s ego might be defined in terms of the personalities who produced its features, news and gossip columns
Go-Set provided the training ground for some Australian musicians and non-musicians to get into rock magazine journalism and book writing. Among these were, ex-Valentines singer, Vince Lovegrove, author of a book on nineties rock group INXS lead singer Michael Hutchence. Vince Lovegrove describes the founder of Go-Set, Phillip Frazer, as the man who “gave us opportunities to work at something we loved”. (Lovegrove, 25/8/99). Of the magazines earliest feature writers, writer Lily Brett, is now an established author of fiction books living in New York. Sydney film producer, David Elfick, started the Go-Set’s Sydney office under instructions from Phillip Frazer (Frazer, 26/8/99), and was later significant in keeping the magazine running (McLean, 1999). Ian “Molly” Meldrum was the “talent co-ordinator” for Countdown, the ABC’s long running music show in the mid 70’s to mid 80’s. He has been regarded by some as Australia’s “rock music guru”. Ed Nimmervoll, works as a freelance journalist in Melbourne, his career began producing national top 40 music charts for Go-Set and eventually moved into music industry analysis. Over the nine years of Go-Set‘s existence it employed many up-and-coming writers and journalists.
Go-Set played an important role in the development of Australian pop and rock music, it was also the nurturing center for pop and rock music journalists. Yet Go-Set‘s history has remained submerged within the music industry. Go-Set gave many artists and writers the exposure they needed in order to succeed. This paper presents a disjointed, but chronological first view of Go-Set‘s life. It focuses on the crisis stages of the development of the magazine. Selective use of Erikson’s childhood ego development model is used where it matches those aspects of magazines history chosen for this paper.
Beginnings (1966 and 1967)
According to Erikson, the first stage crisis determines the innermost mood of the child in which, “the baby must establish basic trust as ‘he’ takes in’ the society that surrounds him. This is through eating (the mother plays the key role here), and through the development of the senses of sight, hearing, and touch. Crisis occurs when child realises that mother cannot devote all the time that is needed. The outcome of this crisis will be determined largely through the sense of trust built up between the child and the mother” (Beringer, R.E., 1978, 94).
Erikson is saying is that at the beginning of a childs’ life, it is stimulated by its surroundings and develops a trust with its mother. When the childs’ needs are not met it will may not develop an appropriate bond with its mother, and unless it determines another coping strategy may be weakened by the crisis. Applying this analogy to the magazine, we could infer that after its initial creation, Go-Set sought the trust and support of its readers, failure to gain this trust could be catastrophic for future of the magazine.
Go-Set Weekly-A-Go-Go was created at 4 Grace Street, Malvern, the shared rental accommodation for two Monash University students, Phillip Frazer and Tony Schauble (Frazer, 8/9/99). They were editors of the Monash University student paper, Lot’s Wife (Frazer, 28/9/99). Go-Set was initially published through a credit arrangement with the Waverley Press, the company that was printing Lot’s Wife (Frazer, 1999). Borrowing ideas off English and American popular music and fashion magazines, Go-Set began life as a teenage fanzine.
A fanzine is “a magazine dedicated to the journalistic coverage of one artist or one type of music, obviously derived from ‘fan magazine’” (Cable, 1977, 211). Go-Set‘s initial market was the Australian teenagers aged 14 to 16 years old (Hawkes, 1999) with a focus on teenage girls. It included a female fashion column edited by Prue Acton; pictures, comments and views of Australian and overseas pop music stars; beauty hints; pen pal columns; and personal columns all point to this target group. Go-Set was able to establish itself as \ul the teenage magazine covering the Australian youth culture in all Australian states without the support of the other mainstream publishing houses including Frank Packer’s Everybody’s magazine whose market was exactly the same as Go-Set‘s (O’Brien, 1982, 143).
As a fanzine, Go-Set gave its readers insights into many musicians and performers. Major international artists such as Tom Jones (Go-Set, 2/2/66, 2) and The Rolling Stones (Go-Set, 21/2/66, supplement) lent their words and opinions to the magazine. Local artists, focusing on Melbourne at first but eventually spreading to all the major capitals and large parts of Victorian and NSW country, were to be found within its pages. Australia’s biggest singing star, Normie Rowe (Go-Set, 6/7/66, 1) appeared on the cover in one form or another more than other Australian recording star. Pop group, The Easybeats (Go-Set, 7/3/66, 3) appeared within the magazine many times as one of Australia’s proud international exports. Pop singing duo, Bobby & Laurie (Go-Set, 6/4/66, 9) appeared in many issues, and continued to do so as solo stars after they disbanded.
The inclusion of Ian Meldrum a few months after the magazine began added a new pop music viewpoint. He was a pop fan who liked to mix with pop stars (Charles, 2000). He would add more to the fanzine aspects of Go-Set. His stories would make the front cover of Go-Set many times during his first three years with the magazine. The first time was a news report on band, The Twilights winning the 1966 annual “Battle of The Sounds” band competition (Go-Set, 27/7/66,1). Ian Meldrum would travel with 1967 winners of this same competition, The Groop, to England (Charles, 2000). Ian Meldrum covered the local Melbourne and Australian music scene while Go-Set star reporter Lily Brett and photographer Colin Beard travelled to London to cover the overseas scene first hand on the BOAC World Pop Tour (Go-Set, 1/3/67, 5). Popular singer Normie Rowe, was already in England hoping for success (Go-Set, 6/7/66, 1) Lily Brett and Colin Beard reported on Normie’s progress for Go-Set’s readers. Normie Rowe was already enormously popular with young Australian girls 13 to 15 years old who tried to rip the clothes from his body during a concert in December 1965 (Cockington, ???, 135).
Fashion was important to Go-Set and it catered this to the female part of its audience. In providing these fashion columns Go-Set provided a reason for its audience to trust it. Prue Acton provided the first fashion column introduced readers to overseas fashions dominant in England (Go-Set, 2/2/66, 9). She departed the pages of Go-Set in August 1966. Staff writer, Sue Flett, who doubled as “Dear Leslie Pixie” also contributed a beauty and fashion column called “Beauty Notes” dealing with appearance and looks (Go-Set, 6/7/66, 9). Readers returned Go-Set‘s trust by writing to the magazine.
Readers could write to Go-Set in three separate columns. “Go-Gos and No-Gos” was a form of immediate and instant means of expressing an opinion. “Postbox” was a letters to the editor type column. The third type was the “Dear Leslie Pixie”, or the personal column.
“Go-Gos & No-Gos” was introduced early in 1966, and was a column by which readers could tell other readers what they thought of rock music groups or even Go-Setwriters journalists. The format remained the same until the column finished in February 1970. Go-Set did not just feature successful pop groups in these columns but many bands whose fame and recognition never went beyond the magazines pages. The column gave readers the chance to state why they liked or disliked artists or personalities within the music scene.
Go-Set also used more formal formats within its pages. Reader trust in Go-Set was also expressed through readers letters section, under the 1966 column heading “Postbox”. Readers could express their opinions, concern or admiration for artists or groups. For a short while in 1966, readers also provided review of concerts and events they had witnessed. One issue that caused great concern was the way in which Australian bands in England expressed their nationalism.
While on the one hand, singer Normie Rowe had travelled to England in order to break into the English charts and be a successful artists in the mother country (Go-Set, ??,??), the Easybeats whose origins were England, Scotland and Holland expressed doubts about the Australian music scene (Go-Set, ?1967, ?). In her letter to “Postbox”, reader, Irene Hany of Melbourne discussed the issue of why bands travel overseas:
“Dear GO-SET, In reference to your article “Easybeats Knock Australia”, I think people who take offence at this are being over sensitive. A columnist in a magazine can say we are behind England in the pop field, but let the Easybeats say it and they’re being big-headed. If you don’t think we are a bit behind, how come none of the Australian records take off overseas? An Australian artist has to go overseas first before he or she can make it there. Usually they study other artists there and find out what is popular, then they try and mould their image to fit into the English or American scene. Anyway, so far none of the teenagers are complaining about the pop scene in general here, so why worry about what anyone says about it.” (Go-Set, 7/12/66, 6).
Readers’ personal problems were answered in Go-Set. The service was provided by staff writers often with little experience in the field of psychology (Nimmervoll, 1998). The “Dear Leslie Pixie” were written by Sue Flett, an ex girlfriend of Go-Set founder, Phillip Frazer. Most of the letters to Sue Flett related to issues of getting, keeping, or dropping boyfriends or girlfriends. “Dear Leslie Pixie” answered questions until 1969 when the column was taken over by Melbourne based blues singer Wendy Saddington. By late 1969 with Wendy Saddington running the column, the letters were of a more sexual nature:
“Dear Wendy, I have an older brother who plays soccer and often he brings his team-mates home. e have a tree house in the bush out the back of our house and we often go there. No girls go except me as no other girls live around our way. At the tree house the boys used to take turns at stripping me. I was about four years younger than I am now. (I am 13 now.) Now they still come and threaten to take me out and try to do something to me and as I am in the position to get into trouble I don’t want to go. They say they will tell my parents what I did a few years ago. I don’t want my parents to know as they would be very disappointed in me and also very upset. What can I do – become pregnant or never be able to face my parents again?” Trust or Pregnant (Go-Set, 4/2/70, 18)
It was not only the readers who had a critical voice. Radio personality disk jockey Stan “The Man” Rofe wrote for Go-Set through a reciprocal arrangement between Go-Set and 3UZ. Under the arrangement 3UZ would provide radio time for Go-Set in return for advertising of the station within the magazine (Frazer, 1999). Stan Rofe’s first year of columns followed a gossip style format until April 1967. Stan moved to more serious commentary with “Stan Rofe’s Tonic” in April 1967. An example of some of his criticism related to the axing of the TV shows Kommotion and Go!! by Channel 0. He wrote:
“It was a bleak dark day when Channel “0” announced the shutdown on Kommotion and Go!! The value both these shows had in promotion of young Australians was inestimable and the effects will not only be felt severely by the end of 1967, but could be the cause of a complete collapse in the ready risky teenage entertainment business. It will initially be felt more in Melbourne than anywhere else in Australia, but eventually all States will suffer by the loss of these outlets for teenage promotions” (Go-Set, 6/9/6)
During this period Go-Set did not run an editorial column, that is the editor did not define an issue of concern or point to which the readers could respond. Stan Rofe appeared to fall into the role, the “Tonic” column provided criticism of musicians, social issues, concert performances and music industry decisions. Readers responded to negative columns about favoured pop through the “Postbox” and “Go-Gos & No-Gos”. “Stan Rofe’s Tonic” would continue as a regular item until March 1971.
The horoscope was a fanzine item that survived in one form or another till late in Go-Set‘s history. “Your Stars As I See Them” was prepared by Evelyn King and lasted until the end of 1966. It was replaced with “What’s In The Stars For You” which lasted for another year and was anonymously written. The horoscopes last incarnation was “This weeks [sic] super Go-Set-Oscope” which was shortened to just “Go-Set-Oscope”. Terry Cleary was the outgoing and talkative staff member who sold the magazines advertising space. Terry Cleary was not an experienced fortune-teller (Nimmervoll, 1998). If Evelyn King appeared to know something about fortune telling, then Terry Cleary hasd little or no idea at all. Compare Evelyn King, (Go-Set, 1/6/66, 16)
“A week of upheaval is in store. Overcome tendencies to give up. Make the best of all situations and maintain enthusiasm for new plans. Highlight personality, charm. An eligible newcomer will be impressed. Luck in the family. Lucky number 7. Lucky day: Tuesday.”
with Terry Cleary, (Go-Set, 6/2/71, 23)
“Gemini (May 21 – June 20) Geminis! Your morning exercises! Step (1) Stand before mirror: (2) Smile ‘till it hurts: (3) Say “I am friendly, chatty, nice to know: (4) Clean teeth (and mirror): (5) Go out and make a friend (It’s the only way to get to know them): (6) Shower: (7) Face the mirror and try not to say ‘If they want me they’ll have to pay’.”
From Erikson, the next crisis of childhood, the child begins to develop the sources of what will become its human will, and its sense of individual autonomy (Beringer, ?,?). Erikson is saying that development of a self will occurs slowly, but the real self can only be achieved when individual autonomy or self-controlled self motivated guidance is achieved.
21 March 1970
For Go-Set, the beginning of a sense of self occurred when the magazine began being critical and analytical of the music that was being listened to. Between August 1966 and February 1967, three changes occured that would determine Go-Set individuality as a magazine. In August it dropped the “-weekly a-go-go” from its title. It represented a move away from its relationship with its teenage audience. In October 1966, it developed its first national top 40 chart. In February 1967, Go-Setstarted publishing a new national top 40 chart developed by music analyst and architecture student, Ed Nimmervoll.
The top 40 music chart has always been an important part of the pop music industry. The chart allows readers to see where their favourite song is, a sense of how popular the song is. Until October 1966 there had never been a national top 40 chart, they were always State or radio station based. When Ed Nimmervoll joined Go-Set he brought with him an intellectual view on music. He took the top 40 charts seriously, studying the progress of songs in the English and American charts through the magazines he had on overseas subscription (Nimmervoll, 1998). Nimmervoll added a sense of criticism that had not been clearly visible till then. His commentary on songs and artists within the top 40 charts through the notes he included (Nimmervoll, 1998) gave the magazine a more serious sense of purpose. From 1967 and 1973 he provided record reviews and provided critical analysis of the music scene (Nimmervoll, 1998). His integrity, intellect and love of music would help the magazine through its next crisis which did occur until the end of 1968.
Autonomy through addressing social issues also helped Go-Set. In June 1967, the magazine addressed the important social issue of the discotheque. Important because discotheques were for many Melbourne and Sydney teenagers the place where they went on a Friday or Saturday night. “We Need Disco’s [sic]”: There is no argument – Police’. (Go-Set, 6/7/67, 3). Go-Set presented an educated view on discotheques, saying that most had healthy atmospheres in which teenagers could be safe. Go-Set wrote from the perspective of being part of the discotheque scene, with the maturity of an adult or as the parent of the teenager who might visit these clubs. Along with this social conscience, Go-Set started to get critical, it did this through the writings of 3UZ radio personality Stan Rofe.
A sense of autonomy was also being developed for Go-Set through Stan Rofe’s column which grew more critical in late 1967. One issue he took on was censorship. He observed that the older generation and authorities were questioning the values and behaviour of teenagers. Go-Set raised this issue and others with its readership. In doing so it became a force in making rock and pop music more respectable as a source of critical comment, both to the teenagers who read the magazine and to their parents.
While Go-Set was developing its sense of self, an American magazine called Rolling Stone entered the American scene in October 1967. Rolling Stone took a more serious approach, and did not venture into fanzine territory. In America it quickly became the cultural bible of American youth (Nimmervoll, 1999), by providing insights and analysis into the American music scene (Draper, 1990). In Australia it did not to have an immediate impact in terms of the style of journalistic coverage Go-Set applied to the Australian music scene. It took two years for Go-Set to respond to the influence of Rolling Stone. In the end Rolling Stone would provide the motivation for the shift of Go-Set away from the fanzine role it had played between 1966 and 1968.
Mid-life Crisis and Transition (End 1968 to Early 1971)
Erikson’s next stage leading to an end of childhood is vital in that it is the search for ego identity and concerns defining social roles, or the niche that they will fit as adults. They seek a sense of belonging and of knowing that their existence is meaningful for others. The crisis during this stage is one of identity or identity diffusion. Most frequently this occurs when young people are uncertain of their future occupations (Berringer, 1978, 95). Erikson is telling us that in order to leave childhood, a child must develop a sense of identity so that it can enter the adult world. Go-Set sought to leave its teenage beginnings behind and be seen as a more mature form a music journal. Acceptance as a more mature type of journal would mean it would have to change.
The transition from fanzine to more serious music journal took from the end of 1968 to the beginning of 1972. During the change period, Go-Set went through many crises. It changed its name, generated two new magazines and reinventing itself internally.
* * *
While Go-Set‘s initial and prime audience had grown older by three years. In order to keep hold of the new 14 to 16 year old market it was necessary to develop a new magazine. Gas was created originally to take advantage of the Monkees tour of Australia in later 1968 (Frazer, 1999). Gas was a fanzine aimed at the late 1960s teenage market interested in posters and pin-ups. Its full title included the sub-heading “Australia’s Greatest Pin-up Magazine”. Ian Meldrum’s specialisation in gossip and news now ran to three years. He was in contact with many of the pop stars (Nimmervoll, 1998) and was aware of the music trends. He became editor and compiler (Frazer, 1999) of Gas.
Go-Set introduced “Core” in mid-December 1969. Its role was to provide analysis and intelligent well written articles on bands and groups that comprised the rock music scene and was edited by Ed Nimmervoll. It represented his view on what a rock magazine should be (Nimmervoll, 1998). The section was characterised by detailed histories and in-depth studies of Australian and overseas groups sometimes running to two full pages in length.
One structural change to the Go-Set infrastructure situation was the creation of a separate magazine with a different focus satisfying Phillip Frazer’s need to produce a radical political paper (Hawkes, 1999). Revolution was a radical underground political paper that also covered rock groups that were not listened to by the Go-Setreaders (Frazer, 1999). It was edited by Phillip Frazer and more closely represented his views on what a paper should be (Nimmervoll, 1998). It incorporated a Rolling Stone magazine supplement (Brown, 1981, 197).
The Australian music industry also experienced great upheaval with the record ban of 1970. For Go-Set the record ban was significant as the magazine came out in support of the Australian musicians who were affected by the non-playing of their music on radio (Nimmervoll, 1999). The basis of the record ban lay in the record companies argument that since the radio stations made a profit from the music they played and that it was the record companies supplying the talent, the record companies were owed a percentage of the profits made by the radio stations. In response, the radio stations argued that they were actually promoting the music provided by the record companies (Nimmervoll, 1999). Go-Set‘s identity as a music industry watcher was put in crisis by the ban.
Go-Set took the side of the musicians who were affected by the ban. The effect on the public was explained by Ian Meldrum who was seen by this time as an authority on Australian music. Writing from the perspective of the effects of the ban he commented that:
“From this week on you won’t be hearing any more of your favorite Australian or English records on commercial radio unless some last minute agreement is reached between radio stations and record companies.” (Go-Set, 23/5/70,3)
Two weeks later and writing as a radio station insider Stan Rofe explained the situation to readers that the record ban could be worked out through negotiation. He also took the opportunity to criticise other parts of the media industry saying that:
“As was to be expected segments of our daily and week-end press have blown the radio/record company dispute out of all proportion. Let it be said here and now, that radio stations and record companies will negotiate further and that both parties are on friendly speaking terms.” (Go-Set, 6/6/70, 19).
In Erikson’s terms, this criticism from Go-Set is a sign of taking its growth and maturity seriously. It was capable of taking a stand and standing up for its principles.
One final issue would seal the future direction of Go-Set, and define the role of Rolling Stone magazine in Australia. Jann Wenner, editor and publisher of Rolling Stone had managed to get an interview with ex-Beatle John Lennon then living in the United States. It was the most important and controversial interview of the early 1970s (Nimmervoll, 1998). In it, John Lennon burst the bubble around the Beatles, he discussed his experiences with the drug LSD. He belittled other Beatle members including Paul McCartney who had been his partner in writing many of the Beatles songs. The interview was eventually published over a five week period in January and February 1971. One difficulty with the interview was its length. Go-Set‘s articles were generally of only half to one page and occasionally longer. After this incident Go-Set started printing articles of two to three pages. Soon after Revolution became Australian Rolling Stone, and Go-Set continued down the path to becoming a serious rock music journal.
Decline and Death (May 1972 to August 1974)
In the adulthood – ego integrity stage, the full acceptance of one’s self and one’s inevitable fate is realised. The ‘one and only life cycle’ is understood ‘as something that had to be and that, by necessity, permitted of no substitutions’; resignation and wisdom mark the realisation ‘that an individual life is an accidental coincidence of but one life cycle with but one segment of history’ (Beringer, 1978, 97). Erikson is saying that upon reaching this “ego integrity” stage that the adult has accepted the decisions it has made and is now tied to a particular life path, along with this comes the acceptance that this is their destiny. For Go-Set this acceptance of role seems to have been established after its mid-life crisis period 1968 to 1971. Having established itself as the only pop and rock magazine in Australia, it could have continued down this path for many years, but further crises were still to come.
By May 1972 Go-Set was a veteran of the pop music scene in Australia. It had gained the experience and knowledge of having been around during the growth of the Australian music scene. It still owed money to Waverly Offset. The debt was something the magazine could not afford (Nimmervoll, 1998), along with a scandal associated with printing some material from Abbie Hoffman’s Steal This State resulted in Phillip Frazer finally selling Go-Set to Waverly Press (Frazer, 4/10/99). As a result of the sale Waverley Offset’s placed their advertising manager, Gavan Disney as the national general manager of Go-Set. From 1972, in order to reduce costs, articles were being printed in full from New Musical Express and Melody Maker, both IPC publications. Go-Set now presented a world-view of the music industry, even if it was limited to American and English overseas artists. Some ex Go-Set staffers believe that the magazine died when Phillip Frazer sold it to Waverly Offset at the end of 1972 (Williams, 1999, MacLean, 1999).
After the sale Phillip Frazer left to start a new political magazine. Editorial control of Go-Set went to Ed Nimmervoll. In February 1973, Go-Set was sold to Sungravure Press of Regent Street, Sydney. Go-Set was now being controlled from Sydney, and while it meant financial stability, it meant that it was no longer totally free of editorial control (Nimmervoll, 1998).
Ed Nimmervoll states that as editor in 1973, he had independence but was occasionally asked to justify items within the paper to the new publisher (Nimmervoll, 1998). This period also saw the critical commentary side of the magazine take on a new meaning. (With) the knowledge, maturity and experience of music industry analyst Ed Nimmervoll, Go-Set gained the confidence to seriously criticise the industry it had helped nurture Editorials expressed both praise and disappointment at the rock music industry. Go-Set was now ready to play the role of guide, and help the industry re-invigorate itself. Invigoration of the music industry required some hard questions to be put.
From July 1973, national editor Ed Nimmervoll used the editorial to put these questions. He identified issues such as the price of records in Australia (“Our Records Are Too Dear” Go-Set, 18/8/73, 2); a Senate inquiry into Payola in Australia (“Is There Payola In Australia” Go-Set, 4/8/73, 2). His very first editorial questioned the validity of the Australian music scene:
Over and over we’ve told ourselves “our turn must come” , told the fairy-tale in which a struggling overseas music scene searching for something new and fresh finds the suppressed potential of Australia’‘ rock music, the brilliant new rock revolution ready to pounce and sweep the world charts.
He then addresses the record companies, writing that they:
“… don’t help the acts in the slightest and the acts don’t help the record companies AT ALL. What SHOULD happen is that agency, management and record company should get together and organise ATTRACTIVE promotion tours. But we muddle on.”
Finally, after addressing the uselessness of the musicians union, he addresses the radio stations:
“But what’s crippling this industry most of all is radio, with its single rock network, turning down records left and right, having the scene wide open to one set of radio programmers pointing the scene wherever they see fit, to whoever gets closest to them. And being a “high-rotation” station they’re waiting for the other straight” stations to “break” records. How dangerous, too, to have a radio chain connected with a publishing concern.” (Go-Set, 28/7/73, 3)
There is a sense of frustration associated with his comments. They are critical of the process and the struggle that Australian bands had to go through.
In the last issue of 1973, the Ed Nimmervoll’s editorial announced that Go-Set was moving to Sydney. He wrote that Melbourne had both loved and hated Go-Set. The question was now whether Sydney would care about it in the same way (Go-Set, 29/12/73, 2).
Bloggers note: Back in the 1979s, my group of friends socialised with Helen Wilson, wife of Ed Wilson, one of the founders of the Daly Wilson Big Band
Erikson does not deal with the issue of old age except with the reference “one’s inevitable fate”. This could be considered as a reference to death. Yet in Go-Set‘s case it had little control over its future.
There is some confusion as to which company actually owned Go-Set. Michele O’Driscoll (aka Mitch) returned to Australia from England in 1974 and took up a writing/editorial position with Go-Set. She believes that at the time she was working for the English publishers IPC (Williams, 1999). Rock music journalist Christie Eliezer, who supplied articles to Go-Set in 1974, believes he was working for Sungravure. Phillip Frazer believes that IPC bought out Sungravure, possibly as a means of killing off Go-Set (Frazer, 15/12/99).
The 1974 magazine took on a new format. It combined the old gossip and news sections, with the fanzine photo-feature, and long in-depth two to three page articles courtesy of New Musical Express. Ian Meldrum’s gossip column fitted the format of the magazine desired by the new owners, he too, returned to his roots, he became the voyeur, with his “Keyhole News” (Go-Set, 2/2/74, 10). Go-Set also revisited the photo-feature style of its past with staff photographer, Phillip Morris, visiting venues and recording the action. Now the feature was called “Scene Around with Philip Morris” (Go-Set, 2/2/74, 11), not “The Seen, The Scene” (Go-Set, 2/2/66, 10-11).
Irrespective of who owned Go-Set, it was was compiled alongside Dolly in an office at 57-59 Regent Steet, Sydney. There were now just two full time staff members, Michele O’Driscoll, still writing as Mitch, and editor Jenny Irvine (Williams, 1999). There were other writers who submitted work but were not resident in the IPC office.
In losing its independence Go-Set lost control of its direction. Go-Set was already decaying as it shifted to Sydney. Sungravure’s intentions for Go-Set may not have been destructive, but according to Michele Williams, they placed an editor in charge who was unfamiliar with rock music journalism (Williams, 1999). Sungravure had its own four-year old, a magazine known as Dolly, whose target audience was teenage girls around the age of 12 to 15. It is Ed Nimmervoll’s belief that Go-Setbecame Dolly (Nimmervoll, 1998). There is some evidence to show that it is more likely that Go-Set became RAM magazine.
According to Michele Williams, IPC policy dictated that no staff could be replaced. Around the end of the first week of August 1974, Michele decided that Go-Set was not the magazine she remembered, and so she left (Williams, 1999). It is likely that the result of her resignation was that there was no-one to work on the magazine, IPC therefore had no choice but to close Go-Set down.
Go-Set‘s demise was not without long term benefits for rock music journalism in Australia. Out of the ashes of Go-Set came a new revitalised rock music journalism industry. Go-Set was stripped of its depth, knowledge, experience and dignity. Six months later Sungravure became active in the music press. A new magazine called RAM (Rock Australia Magazine) came into existence. It retained some of Go-Set’s format, and appeared to have the publishing rights to New Musical Express, one of the magazines Go-Set had published articles from. RAM was distributed by Sungravure, and printed by Waverly Offset. Early in 1975, Ed Nimmervoll started Juke magazine in Melbourne. His magazine would last until the 1990s. He is the currently working as an independent rock music chronicler in Melbourne (Nimmervoll, 1998).
References
Beringer, R.E., 1978, Historical Analysis – Contemporary Approaches to Clio’s Craft, John Wiley & Sons, New York.
Brown, A., (Ed.) 1982, The History of Rock, Volume 1, Issue 11, Orbis Publishing, London.
Brown, M., 1981, Idealism, Plagiarism, and Greed – The Rock Music Press, in Beilby, P. & Roberts, M. (Eds.) 1981, Australian Music Directory, 1st Edition, Australian Music Directory Pty Ltd, Melbourne.
Charles, R., 2000, Interview 20 February 2000.
Cockington, J, 1992, Mondo Weirdo: Australia In The Sixties, Mandarin, Melbourne.
Draper, R, 1990, Rolling Stone Magazine – The Uncensored History, Doubleday, New York.
Erikson, E.H., 1958, Young Man Luther – A Study in Psychoanalysis and History, Faber and Faber, London.
Pink triangles were originally used in concentration camps to identify gay prisoners.
Before the pink triangle became a worldwide symbol of gay power and pride, it was intended as a badge of shame. In Nazi Germany, a downward-pointing pink triangle was sewn onto the shirts of gay men in concentration camps—to identify and further dehumanize them. It wasn’t until the 1970s that activists would reclaim the symbol as one of liberation.
Homosexuality was technically made illegal in Germany in 1871, but it was rarely enforced until the Nazi Party took power in 1933. As part of their mission to racially and culturally “purify” Germany, the Nazis arrested thousands of LGBT individuals, mostly gay men, whom they viewed as degenerate.
The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum estimates 100,000 gay men were arrested and between 5,000 and 15,000 were placed in concentration camps. Just as Jews were forced to identify themselves with yellow stars, gay men in concentration camps had to wear a large pink triangle. (Brown triangles were used for Romani people, red for political prisoners, green for criminals, blue for immigrants, purple for Jehovah’s Witnesses and black for “asocial” people, including prostitutes and lesbians.)
Homosexual prisoners at the concentration camp at Sachsenhausen, Germany, wearing pink triangles on their uniforms on December 19, 1938. Corbis/Getty Images
At the camps, gay men were treated especially harshly, by guards and fellow prisoners alike. “There was no solidarity for the homosexual prisoners; they belonged to the lowest caste,” Pierre Seel, a gay Holocaust survivor, wrote in his memoir I, Pierre Seel, Deported Homosexual: A Memoir of Nazi Terror.
An estimated 65 percent of gay men in concentration camps died between 1933 and 1945. Even after World War II, both East and West Germany upheld the country’s anti-gay law, and many gays remained incarcerated until the early 1970s. (The law was not officially repealed until 1994.)
The early 1970s was also when the gay rights movement began to emerge in Germany. In 1972, The Men with the Pink Triangle, the first autobiography of a gay concentration camp survivor, was published. The next year, post-war Germany’s first gay rights organization, Homosexuelle Aktion Westberlin (HAW), reclaimed the pink triangle as a symbol of liberation.
“At its core, the pink triangle represented a piece of our German history that still needed to be dealt with,” Peter Hedenström, one of HAW’s founding members said in 2014.
Memorial plaques for homosexuals, Jehovah’s Witnesses and Wehrmacht deserters are placed where once stood one of the demolished barracks in Buchenwald concentration camp near Weimar, Germany. Horacio Villalobos/Corbis/Getty Images
Afterwards, it began cropping up in other LGBT circles around the world. In 1986, six New York City activists created a poster with the words SILENCE = DEATH and a bright pink upward-facing triangle, meant to call attention to the AIDs crisis that was decimating populations of gay men across the country. The poster was soon adopted by the organization ACT UP and became a lasting symbol of the AIDS advocacy movement.
The triangle continues to figure prominently in imaging for various LGBT organizations and events. Since the 1990s, signs bearing a pink triangle enclosed in a green circle have been used as a symbol identifying “safe spaces” for queer people. There are pink triangle memorials in San Francisco and Sydney, which honor LGBT victims of the Holocaust. In 2018, for Pride Month, Nike released acollection of shoes featuring pink triangles.
Although the pink triangle has been reclaimed as an empowering symbol, it is ultimately a reminder to never forget the past—and to recognize the persecution LGBT people still face around the world.
The Green Park Hotel, Darlinghurst, 2017. Picture: Mick Roberts Collection
Gus Wangenheim, a man about town
JUST around the corner from Maccabean Hall, built in 1923 to commemorate Jewish men and women who served in the Great War, and where the Sydney Jewish Museum is housed at Darlinghurst, trades the Green Park Hotel.
Like Maccabean Hall, the Green Park Hotel has a link to Sydney’s Jewish history, along with the harbour city’s early bohemian community.
The Green Park Hotel, established in 1879, was bought by one of Sydney’s wealthiest Jewish families, Gus and Betsey Wangenheim in 1881.
The Wangenheim family would later replace the two story brick pub with the magnificent, heritage listed hotel, with its splendid long bar, currently sitting at the corner of Liverpool and Victoria Streets in Darlinghurst in 1893.
The history of the Green Park Hotel begins in the early days of white settlement, when a 28-year-old Gustave Wangenheim arrived in Sydney Town, from Germany, in 1853.
Gus, as he was known, was one of Sydney’s most colourful characters, a cartoonist, painter, comedian and publican. He opened his first pub, the Post Office Hotel in York Street, Sydney in 1854.
In 1855 he married a fellow Jew, 21-year-old Elizabeth Simmons, daughter of James Simmons, a successful trader and brother of the proprietor of the Jerusalem Warehouse, now the site of David Jones department store.
Gus was also the foundation president of the NSW German Club, established in 1858, which hosted monthly balls at their premises in Pitt Street, Sydney. The Club was described by the Sydney Morning Herald as combining the social with the intellectual, and supplied “convivial pleasures and rational edification in a wholesome promiscuous form”.
A much-loved bohemian, who’s “humour was irresistible”, Gus could “reproduce characteristics with a happy exaggeration that few other artists could effect”. His artworks were a feature of his pubs, often drawn directly onto the walls. Besides an artist and comedian, he was also a splendid fencer and boxer, and spoke fluently several languages.
Gus Wangenheim’s first pub, the Post Office Hotel, York Street Sydney. Picture: Supplied
Just five years into his hospitality business, the Jewish publican suffered a major set-back after he was declared insolvent. He disappeared from Sydney social life in 1858, taking his wife Elizabeth and newly born child north to a Port Curtis, near today’s Gladstone in Queensland. Gus’s inability to maintain a healthy cash flow in business was a constant battle throughout his life, and he was declared insolvent at least four or five times.
After his departure from Sydney, another Jewish businessman, Saul Lyons offered a reward to “anyone who will prosecute to conviction” Gus “or the party or parties who took the passage for him, and assisted in his escape”.
The advertisement stated that he had “absconded from his creditors… in assumed name, with his wife and child, in the Maid of Judah”. Gus eventually made good his creditors, and returned to Sydney during the 1860s, where he took the reins of the Café de Paris, in King Street, and continued his “amusing repertoire of musical comicalities” at the Prince of Wales Opera House.
Elizabeth Wangenheim. Picture: Supplied
While the Wangenheims ran the Café de Paris, it was said to be “a picturesque resort of Bohemians, where the Duke of Edinburgh dined more than once while in Sydney”.
Gus and Betsey entered a new business venture in the 1870s, when they built Wangenheim’s Hotel, near the junction of Castlereagh-street with King-street. The hotel became an artistic landmark, with Wangenheims’ customers – the “bohemians and prominent members of all the artistic professions” – following their charismatic publican to his new business venture.
In a series of history articles published in the Truth during 1912, the author, “Old Chum”, revealed it was Betsey who was the brains behind the business of the Wangenheims’ business success.
The remaining interesting item in Castlereagh-street, north of King-street, was a public house, opened in 1875 by Gus Wangenheim, who had previously kept a hotel in King-street. In the Castlereagh-street house, the walls and tables in the bar, every available inch, were decored with character sketches by Gus, who was not half a bad artist. About the year 1881 the house passed to Richmond Thatcher, a clever Bohemian of much literary talent, but neither Dick Thatcher nor Gus Wangenheim was made of the stuff that successful publicans are composed of. The Bohemian strain in the character of each, good fellows though they were, was against the accumulation of large bank balances. Mr Wangenheim, however, was not entirely dependent on his exertions as a hotel-keeper; his wife – who, I believe, is still living – being the daughter of a very wealthy citizeness. Richmond Thatcher could do much better with his pen than with a beer engine.
Wangenheim’s Hotel later became known as the Bulletin Hotel and in 1885 the Burlington. It was demolished sometime before 1905.
A year before Gus’ death, the Wangenheims invested in a brick corner pub with a 90 feet frontage to Liverpool Street and 30 feet facing Victoria Streets, in Darlinghurst. Established in 1879, the slate roofed Green Park Hotel, with bar, cellar, two parlours, hall, five bedrooms and kitchen, had been trading for less than three years, when the Wangenheims added to their growing property portfolio in March 1881. The Green Park Hotel provided £3 14s a week in rent for the Wangenheims.
A caricature of Gus Wangenheim by Sydney Morning Herald cartoonist and reporter, Percy Tanner, C1870. Picture: State Library of NSW.
The death of the flamboyant publican at the age of 57 in 1882 came on the heels of the demise of another of Sydney’s bohemian identities, the well-known poet, Henry Kendall. Gus’ death reportedly left a void in the social life of Sydney that “can never be filled up”. The Queenslander reported on Saturday August 12 1882:
Following close upon the demise of Kendall was the sudden taking off of poor Gus Wangenheim. Gus was one of the identities of Sydney life. Not to have known this genial German was to argue yourself unknown. He was a genuine artist, though his range of accomplishments was not by any means restricted to the pencil. Art, however, was his forte. As his thoroughly genial and withal kindly disposition invariably led him to look upon the humorous side of everything, his genius naturally affected caricature, and as a caricaturist Wangenheim can scarcely be said to have had a superior… When he was hotel-keeping the walls of his hostelry were literally covered with caricatures of politicians, actors, and other celebrities, and these curious sketches were the admiration and the delight of the host of frequenters of his popular “pub” in Castlereagh-Street; but the vandals who succeeded Gus knew not their worth, and remorselessly rubbed them out – only awakening to a sense of their value when the gifted caricaturist himself was rubbed out. Gus was a competent musical and dramatic critic in addition to his qualities as an artist. Miss Emma Wangenheim, who is, I believe, pretty well known in Queensland, was his daughter, and doubtless inherited such lyrical gifts as nature may have endowed her with from her paternal relative. Perhaps, though, after all, Gus Wangenheim will be longest remembered for his social qualities – his homely, easy, unaffected conversational powers being the delight of all his companions. There was just the faintest approach to egotism in Gus Wangenheim. Egotism, perhaps, is too offensive a word to use. Gus’ self-appreciation, as it may be more fitly termed, may be said to have resembled the quality of egotism much in the same way as the mist resembles the rain.” So far from its being objectionable it really constituted one of the charms of his conversation, and was thus, in its way, as pardonable and as tolerable as was the egotism of Bousseau. Now that he is gone, all who knew him feel that a void has been created in the social life of Sydney, which at any rate, as far as the present generation is concerned, can never be filled up.
The Sydney Evening News reported the artistic publican’s death on August 4 1882:
Death of Mr. Gus Wangenheim.
People who frequent the town at night were yesterday startled by a report that Mr. Wangenheim, popularly called Gus Wangenheim, the well-known caricaturist, had “dropped down dead.” The rumour was not credited at first, as one of a similar character, that turned out to, be a canard, had been circulated before. Unfortunately, however, it is only too true; for the clever, genial, loveable, “man about town,” died suddenly at his residence, Pendennis, Lower William-street, Woolloomooloo, last evening, shortly after 5. Gas, may be said to have “passed away” rather than died. He was out at Waverley with his wife in the afternoon, and on their return, had a cup of cocoa, after which he went on the balcony, where he sat down and smoked a cigar. That finished, he took a book and commenced to read. Mrs. Wangenheim noticed that he put it down shortly afterwards, and thinking he slept told one of the children not to make a noise and ‘wake pa’. A few moments afterwards noticing that his head was very much to one side she looked closely at him, and to her horror found that he was dead. His head then was cold, the eyes were glassy and he must have died almost instantaneously. His hands were folded, and there was not the slightest trace of suffering on the face. The deceased man had been before the public for some years as a hotel-keeper and a sketcher and caricaturist of considerable power and facility. Though not so good at likenesses as Lascelles or Clint, Gus’ humour was irresistible, and he could reproduce characteristics with a happy exaggeration that few other artists could effect. The best collections of his drawings are on the walls of the Bulletin Hotel, which he kept for several years. Unfortunately the vandal landlord in possession at present papered over a whole room full. Besides being an artist, Wangenheim possessed a marked ability in other ways. He was a splendid fencer and boxer, and spoke several languages with fluency but he will, doubtless, be longest remembered for his genial ways and loveable nature and disuation. Of late he gave up all other business to look after the princely estate – chiefly town property— of his mother-in-law, Mrs. Simmons. Though forced at times to assert the rights of landlady against tenants, he never made an enemy; and it is said that on the few occasions when he was “in possession,” the folks levied on never had such a time of it in their lives. As a raconteur, who could illustrate his stories with lightning like rapidity, Gus had no superior and few equals. Mr. Wangenheim was a native of Germany, and about 50 years of age.
The Green Park Hotel, Darlinghurst 1930. Picture: Australian National University, Noel Butlin Archives.
After Elizabeth’s wealthy mother died at the age of 98 in 1891, she decided to redevelop the Darlinghurst property.
The police had objected to the renewal of the license of the Green Park Hotel in July 1891. The pub was repeatedly falling foul of the law for Sunday trading, and allowing gambling on the premises. The pub was dilapidated and the court ruled it was unsuitable to trade as a pub.
Elizabeth, who was now aged 58, applied for a conditional publican’s license for a new pub for the site in October 1891.
The police opposed the application on the ground that there were at present more than sufficient pubs in the neighbourhood, there being four hotels within 250 yards of the proposed site.
The police argued that owing the number of hotels, in order to make a living publicans were resorting to Sunday trading and selling liquor at prohibited hours. Inspector Bremner said that since the Green Park Hotel had closed in June 1891, there had been a marked improvement in the neighbourhood. Interestingly the United Licensed Victuallers’ Association also opposed the application.
In support of the application, the court heard that the existing pubs in the area were of an inferior character, and that a first class hotel, such as Elizabeth’s was urgently. The existing hotels were merely drinking shops, Elizabeth’s lawyers argued.
The wealthy widow was granted a condition license for her proposed £2000 hotel after her legal team explained how it would bring a superior quality business to Darlinghurst. Elizabeth was granted confirmation of the conditional license after the completion of the hotel on June 29 1893. She remained as licensee for a year, before handing the reins over to Fred Moorehouse in 1893.
Several licensees were at the helm of the Green Park Hotel over the next 32 years during Elizabeth Wangenheim’s ownership. In 1921 professional boxer, Sid Godfrey became host of the Green Park Hotel. He won the Australian featherweight title fight in 1917, and earned £20,000 prize money during his boxing career. Out of 109 professional fights he won 79 (41 by knockout) and drew 12.
Godfrey had a short stay at the Green Park Hotel, and went on to host the Bald Faced Stag, Leichhardt, the Carrington at Petersham, and the Horse and Jockey at Homebush. He retired from business in 1957 and lived at Bronte. He died in 1965.
Betsey or Elizabeth Wangenheim died on August 8 1925, at the age of 91 and was buried in the Jewish section of Rookwood Cemetery. The Blue Mountain Echo reported on Friday August 14 1925:
OBITUARY
MRS. ELIZABETH WANGENHEIM.
On Saturday last there passed away an old and respected resident of Katoomba in the person of Mrs Elizabeth Wangenheim, of ‘Thorley,’ Lurline Street, at the ripe age of 90. The late Mrs. Wangenheim was a daughter of the late Mr. James Simmons, who was the first importer of general goods to Australia. He chartered a special fleet of ships for this purpose, and his enterprise was rewarded handsomely. Later Mr. Simmons went into the hotel business, and also dabbled greatly in land speculation. The present site of David Jones’ huge emporium at one time was occupied by the famous ‘Jerusalem Store’ of Mr. Simmons. In 1855 the late Mrs. Wangenheim married Mr. Gustavus Wangenhiem, who also was an hotel licensee. Subsequent, to his death, she continued in the hotel business, and displayed great business acumen. She retired from active business nearly half a century ago, and during the latter days of her life resided in her palatial home at Katoomba. The deceased lady left one son (Mr. Joseph Wangenheim), and three daughters, (Mrs. J. F. Gavin, now in America; Mrs. Fred Morris, Elizabeth Bay; and Mrs. J. R. Stewart, Tahmoor, near Picton). She also was the mother of the late Emma Wangenheim (Mrs. J. A. Carroll) well known in operatic circles, and the grandmother of Mrs. Cliff Hardaker. She was interred in the Jewish section of Rookwood Cemetery on Sunday last, the last rites being performed by Rev. M. Einfield.
At her death Elizabeth was considered to be the wealthiest woman in Sydney, with a probate of £164,376. Her son Joseph Moritz Wangenheim inherited the Green Park Hotel, which was to be held in trust after his death for the benefit of his children. However, it seems Joseph followed in his father’s foot steps, and not his mothers. The hotel was mortgaged to Tooth and Company during the late 1920s, and by 1930 the family had lost the freehold of the Green Park Hotel to the brewery giant.
Green Park Hotel, Darlinghurst 1949. Photo: ANU, Noel Butlin Archives.
Green Park Hotel 1939. Photo: ANU, Noel Butlin Archives.
Footnote
The Sydney Morning Herald reports that the Green Park Hotel is to close for business in December 2020. The newspaper reported on November 24 2020:
“One of Sydney’s most historic inner city pubs will call last drinks this Christmas, before becoming a mental health clinic next year. The Green Park Hotel on Victoria Rd, Darlinghurst has been purchased by St Vincent’s Hospital as part of a planned expansion of its mental health and community outreach services. Affectionately known by locals as the ‘Greeny’, the hotel has been pulling beers for the past 127 years and has long been beloved by the LGBTQI community and a landmark venue for Mardi Gras celebrations. Hospitality group Solotel, which has owned the pub for more than 30 years, finalised the sale at between $5 to $10 million to the trustees of St Vincent’s Hospital on Monday, before staff were told on Tuesday morning.”
In the 56 years since Deirdre Cusack called the Green Park Hotel home, she has never forgotten the brown paper that covered the cellar windows.
It had been there ever since the Japanese tried to invade Sydney Harbour in 1942, carefully placed to block out lights across a city fearing submarine attack.
The Green Park hotel in 1954.
The image feels a world away from the vibrant inner city watering hole the “Greenie” has become in 2020. Today it is both a haven and a refuge for Sydney’s LGBTQI community – “more than just a bar,” as one columnist said.
On Sunday night the 127-year-old hotel will call last drinks, after it was sold to the surrounding St Vincent’s Hospital to become a mental health clinic.
It caught the eye of Mrs Cusack, who was just one year old when her parents Sam and Fay McIntyre leased the Darlinghurst pub from Tooth’s Brewery in 1941. She would live above the corner pub –through a side door, past the ladies’ parlour and up the stairs – for 23 years until she married in 1964.
Deirdre Cusack at her home in Ormoston, Queensland.CREDIT:PAUL HARRIS
Sydney felt different then. By law, publicans were not allowed to live off premises and the beer came in wooden barrels (the rum, too).
The pub closed at 6pm and never opened on Sundays. Across the road from the Green Park was a paper shop, a flower shop and a butcher with sawdust on the floor.
Darlinghurst was a place where everyone knew everyone,” Mrs Cusack said. “I can still remember the SP bookies. They had a place down in one of the terrace houses and you’d see this trail of men going to down to put a bet on the horses and coming back to the pub to have a beer.”
Until 1931 Australians were only allowed to bet on horse races with an on-course bookmaker, before radio and television gave rise to “starting price bookies”, who hung around the city’s pubs and clubs.
“I didn’t have any outside playing space, so I used to play out in the lane behind the pub and hit a tennis ball up against a brick wall with my friends,” Mrs Cusack said.
“Kings Cross then was not as bad as it became. My mother had no problem letting me and a girlfriend walk up to the Cross on Saturday night, when the [first-edition] papers would come out for Sunday.”
She still recalls the mouthwatering burgers she used to eye off at the Hasty Tasty diner under the Coca-Cola sign. “God, they looked delicious.”
When her father Sam died in 1952, Mrs Cusack said there was never any question that her mother would carry on managing the “drinking pub”.
“It didn’t have meals or anything like that. And the main bar was for men only, mainly doctors from the hospital.”
The ladies sat in the parlour. It was their meeting place, like going out for coffee, Mrs Cusack said. “One lady used to always wear a hat with a short veil over her face as she sipped her sherry. Another shelled her peas before going home to prepare dinner.”
And then there were the steel troughs under the beer taps, filled with gentian violet (a purple dye), “so when the beer overflowed, you couldn’t reuse it.”
When the Queen came to town: The royal tour drives past the Green Park hotel in 1954.
Nothing stands out in Mrs Cusack’s memory quite as much as a 27-year-old Queen Elizabeth II arriving in Sydney on the Royal tour of 1954; a trip five years in the planning and the first televised event in Australian history.
But never mind the telly. “Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip drove right past the hotel, decorated with all the flags. Every time there was a Royal visit everyone came out. To think they went past our place, it was very exciting.”
Less exciting were the years after Mrs Cusack returned from living in the UK, aged 20, and her mother put her to work in the pub, “a gruelling job”.
“I remember, she said to me one day, ‘for goodness sake. Go and get a job – the look on your face would turn the beer sour.'”
She didn’t wait a second, running out to grab the paper before finding a job in the office at Qantas.
Hotel licence plates of Mrs Cusack’s father, Sam McIntyre.
From her home in Queensland, Mrs Cusack said it was sad to see the Green Park serve its final drinks, although she was glad the facade and features will be protected under heritage laws.
“In Australia they knock down too many buildings,” she said. “We go to Europe and we admire all the old buildings. In Australia, often all you’ve got is concrete and glass.
After 55 years, Manly Sea Life Sanctuary closed its doors for the final time over the weekend, with hundreds turning out to bid farewell to a chunk of Sydney history.
But it’s not the only piece of our childhoods that’s shut down in recent years; from Wonderland Sydney to Mt Druitt Waterworks, we had plenty of amusement parks to pick from in the ’80s.
Old Sydney Town
Image via Old Sydney Town Facebook
Did you even go to school if you didn’t have at least one excursion to Old Sydney Town? Based on a map from the 1800s, the recreation of colonial Sydney opened in 1975 and saw actors taking on the roles of convicts and redcoats for re-enactments. Those bloody public floggings are still burned into our brains. Old Sydney Town eventually closed down in 2003.
Sega World
Image via Creative Commons
Sega World lived for just three short years, gracing us with the Ghost Hunter train, the Rail Chase indoor roller coaster and Aqua Nova, a 3D motion simulator back in 1997. But it was a victim of its own success; as technology improved, we left our Sega Mega Drives – and Sega World – behind.
African Lion Safari
Image via YouTube
How our parents ever thought that it was a good idea to take us to a theme park with the tagline “It’s scary, but nobody cares!” is beyond us. Vistors regularly had lions and tigers paw at, climb on and try to take a bite out of their cars and the park was eventually shut down in 1991. The animals, for a time, stayed behind but after a series of breakouts by resident lionesses, a bear and a number of water buffaloes, they were eventually relocated.
Australia’s Wonderland
Image via Creative Commons
How lucky were we to have Australia’s Wonderland right on our doorstep? Opening in 1985, the amusement park boasted rides like the Bush Beast, Space Probe and Bounty’s Revenge, with Hannah Barbera Land holding a special place in Sydneysiders hearts. Unfortunately, massive profits losses led to the closure of Wonderland in 2004, with the site demolished the following year.
Magic Kingdom Amusement Park
Image via YouTube
Australia’s Wonderland’s predecessor, Magic Kingdom Amusement Park opened in the 1970s and promised a massive day out for just $6. Waterslides, astro spin, dry slides, trampolines, stage shows, mini golf and magic… the 27-acre park, between Bankstown and Liverpool, was a huge draw for western Sydney families. When it came to the battle of the theme parks, though, Magic Kingdom lost out to Wonderland’s thrilling roller coaster rides and shut towards the end of the 1990s.
El Caballo Blanco
Image via YouTube
The Spanish-inspired amusement park, which opened in 1972, was as famous for its dancing Andalusian horses as it was for its waterslides, train rides and mini zoo. Owner Ray Williams’ beautiful performing stallions were such an attraction, he went on to establish a sister park at Disneyland in the US. The Sydney site eventually closed in 2003 after Williams’ death.
Mt Druitt Waterworks
Mt Druitt Waterworks had everything a theme park in the 1980s should have: waterslides, a beach pool and an urban myth about razor blades on the slippery dips. It was rumoured that the razors were what closed the park but the gossip was unfounded; Mt Druitt Waterworks, like pretty much every other Sydney amusement park, was simply losing money hand-over-fist. We’ll always have those ’80s summers, though.
The Forgotten Sydney of AC/DC is a must watch mini documentary by the Sydney Morning Herald’s Tom Compagnoni, featuring the combined recollections of Mark Evans (Bass), Dave Evans (Vocals), Noel Taylor (drums) and Rob Bailey.
One of the most interesting revelations is that of session drummer Tony Currenti, owner of Tonino’s Penshurst Pizzeria, who played on High Voltage but had to turn the gig down due to passport issues.
Mark Evans also relates his views on the current Sydney scene, or lack of. Lets hope that it serves as a warning and that we fight to keep our local Perth music scene alive and kicking.
The view north-west from the State Office Block construction site in about 1964. Photograph: City of Sydney Archives
Over the past two centuries Sydney’s architectural landscape has been continually transformed and many buildings have been consigned to dust. A new exhibition at the Museum of Sydney, Demolished Sydney, which opens on 19 November, remembers the city’s lost buildings from the Garden Palace to the ‘Black Stump’
RURAL BANK OF NEW SOUTH WALES, 1936-82
The bank, pictured here in the 1950s, was torn down and replaced by the Colonial Centre in 1985, despite vehement opposition from 7,000 Sydneysiders. The building was an important element in the harmonious art deco streetscape of Martin Place, where a number of commercial buildings complemented one another in style and size. The campaign to save the Rural Bank galvanised a new appreciation of the city’s art deco architecture and saved many buildings in the central business district.
Photograph: Commonwealth Bank Archives
PYRMONT INCINERATOR, 1937-92
The incinerator stood on a high sandstone promontory overlooking the Blackwattle Bay, now occupied by a Meriton apartment block. Designed by the architects Walter Burley Griffin and Eric Nicholls, it was a remarkable building, as stylish as it was functional. It was decommissioned in 1971 and deteriorated until the late 80s, when the site was sold. Despite protests the incinerator was demolished in 1992 – one of many local landmarks swept away by urban consolidation.
Photograph: City of Sydney Archives
HOTEL AUSTRALIA, 1891-1971
The hotel – once the city’s grandest – was a landmark for 80 years. When it opened in 1891 its belle époque opulence ranked it with the best hotels in Europe and the US. But, as new city hotels were constructed in the 60s, the Hotel Australia went into decline, unable to compete with international ‘jet set’ standards. The last guests checked out in June 1971. Most of the buildings on the block were demolished for Harry Seidler’s award-winning MLC Centre.
Photograph: Hall & Co/State Library of NSW
REGENT THEATRE, 1928-89
The Regent Place arcade and apartment tower stand where the Regent Theatre once screened Hollywood’s finest films. This part of George Street was an amusement mecca in the 30s and 40s, with the Trocadero Palais de Dance next door, the Century and the Plaza theatres across the road and the Victory Theatre three doors down. Cinemas struggled after the arrival of television in 1956. The construction of the first Hoyts multiplex in 1976 marked the end for single-screen theatres. The Regent, the grandest of them all, couldn’t last.
Photograph: Sam Hood/State Library of NSW
GARDEN PALACE, 1879-82
The Garden Palace was built for the 1879 Sydney International Exhibition and was one of the city’s most significant buildings until it turned to ash in a spectacular fire. A southern rival to London’s Crystal Palace (built for the Great Exhibition of 1851) and a testament to the industry and resources of the colony, it was framed in timber and clad in bricks and glass. A memorial gate now stands in the Royal Botanic Gardens in Macquarie Street.
Photograph: Richards & Co/National Library of Australia
COMMISSARIAT BUILDINGS, 1809-1939
The Museum of Contemporary Art today occupies the site where once stood the two oldest government buildings in the state – the convict-hewn Commissariat buildings, built in 1809 and 1812. In 1938 The Royal Australian Historical Society urged that these heritage buildings be retained as a museum of Australian history. But they were demolished in 1939 as part of a plan to build an overhead railway and expressway at Circular Quay, along with a Maritime Services Board building.
Photograph: Eleanor Georgina Shaw/State Library of NSW
ROWE STREET, 1875-1972
Before its demolition, Rowe Street’s tiny shops with their swinging signs created a lively, artisan atmosphere. The laneway was absorbed into the plaza beneath the MLC Centre tower and most of the shops were demolished. The street’s loss continues to be mourned by many Sydneysiders, who relished its cosmopolitan ambience.
Photograph: City of Sydney Archives
FORT MACQUARIE TRAM DEPOT, 1902-58
Before the Sydney Opera House was built, Bennelong Point was the site of the Fort Macquarie tram depot. And before that, it was a place for lime production, naval defence, transport and, finally, entertainment. Earlier still, it was Point Bennelong, named for the Wangal man who befriended the British colonists. To the Gadigal people, the traditional owners of this land, this spit of sandstone is Dubbagullee.
Photograph: State Records Authority of NSW
ST STEPHEN’S CHURCH, 1857-1935
The steepled church stood cheek by jowl with Victorian terrace houses and colonial shops on Phillip Street. It was requisitioned for the creation of a broad thoroughfare that would become Martin Place. The development was envisaged in 1891 but not completed until 1935. St Stephen’s was just one of the buildings swept aside to improve traffic flow at a time when Sydney was undergoing a rapid transition.
Photograph: St Stephen’s Uniting Church
STATE OFFICE BLOCK, 1967-97
The tower was known as the ‘Black Stump’ until its demolition, when it was replaced by Aurora Place. Part of the 60s renewal and modernisation of the city, the block was, briefly, the tallest tower in Sydney. It will be remembered as one of the city’s earliest examples of modern office layout, complete with revolutionary open-plan and modular spaces and Scandinavian design. When government policy shifted to leasing office space in the late 80s, the building was sold.
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