Bonnets and Bows

East is East and West is West and the wrong road I have chose ... "Haven't I got a lovely woice, Mummy?" "Yes Lynette, you sound just like Sophie Tucker."  She must be good, this Sophie Tucker. I thought.

City Bonnet

My plumbing job bonnet - with Les Thomas and sons

The Brookvale Bow - Mum and Nanny

Sat. Morning Bonnet - outside Woolies in Darlinghurst Road, Kings Cross

My First Movie Bow (and last)

'Hello Sailor' Bow

Santa Bow

Me Jenolan Cave's Bow

Tartan Bow. I cut this one off!!

The Trocadero Bow c. 1953

1953 Botanic Garden's Bow

The Family Photo Bow 1956

The Chicken Pox Bow - My mother was well-known for her ability to pin a bow on top of one's head, regardless of the lack of hair.

Bows were stuck on my head until I rebelled and steadfastly refused to wear one.

Can I please have a book, Santa. Unfortunately he bought me a brother!!!!!!!


 'She', then wetted hair, twirled it into clumps. Each 'clump' was held in place with bobby pins. When dried and brushed, my head was adorned with a mop of unwanted curls. A perm later replaced the 'curling sessions'. What was it with her anyway .. just let my locks flow I reckoned. 

1957 Kettle Whistle

UNDERCONSTRUCTION

DUE TO THE FACT I HAVE LEARNT SO MUCH MORE AND WISH TO REWRITE   

D O   N O T   R E A D   pleeeeeeeeeeeeease

UPDATED Feb 2 2010: Kindly edited by Jan Mulcahy, Northern Rivers Family History Writer's Group.

"Hurry up youse guys, it's 'arpast' four, e'll be here soon!" I said with my newly aquired 'Loo accent.  My cousin Michael, my brother Martin and I looked forward to Mr McKnight's daily treck home. Nonchalantly swinging on the wrought iron gate awaiting  the man who my mother oft stated 'invented the Kettle Whistle'.

An elderly man soon appeared over the crest of the hill.  His little derby hat perched on his head, and his pin-striped suit flapping; he seemed to me from a lost time.

"Let's see what I have here," he smiled and reached with great difficulty into his waistcoat pocket, fob watch dangling. Palming a handful of coins he selected  and placed a coin in  our outstretched hands. I received a penny and the little kids half pennies, 'haypnees' we called them.

"I wonder if kept  any farthings for babies?"  I thought.

"Oh gee, thanks Mr. McKnight", we all chorused, gratefully eyeing off our ice-cream money.

With the deed done he struggled down Brougham Street, cane in hand, towards Aunty Billy's house. His face was very close to the ground.  Was he searching for more coins along the way? Mr McKnight's face was always close to the ground.  Bent over double, he suffered from curvature of the spine.

As a child I thought he was a lovely old gentleman who maybe got all his money from inventing the kettle whistle. Mum later told me Mr. McKnight invented the cork screw, not the kettle whistle .. neither of which are credited to him.

1950s Mind's Eye

My home life was very confusing for various reasons that I will not go into right now. The local 'hang' for kids was the council playground; Woolloomooloo Council Playground, it was my out ..

1951 'starring' in a short doco about the playground

I sported orthapedic boots (which were fashionable not!), throughout the day - at nights, iron splints were strapped with lengths of bandages to my little twisted legs.

I'm walking in my mind's eye down Brougham Street on my way to the playground in the 50s, pausing outside the varying Terrace Houses along the way listening to the latest tunes broadcasting from the radio ..

Teresa Brewer's screeching version of "Boll Weevil" offset by Doris Day's lilting "Que Sera Sera", but it was the upbeat "Tzena Tzena" that would start my heart racing. These songs gave me the basis for my quest for musical knowledge. Doris Day "Que Sera Sera", Tzena Tzena", the Barry Sisters version that I first heard in the '50s, however, The Weavers featuring Pete Seeger did an excellent job of it, a sign of great things to come. What a magnificent banjo player he was, such an inspiration during the '60s. (Research has conveyed to me that "Tzena Tzena" 'was not originally a Hebrew folk song.)

Humming "Que Sera Sera" I would close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to be part of the world of music world, a place I mistakenly imagined where one could escape from the horror of ‘homelife’. I later joined this world – far from escaping the horrors of homelife, I found a world of drugs, disloyalty, dishonour and deception.

Back home again - tea (dinner) at 5 on the dot, always 5 on the dot. Back to reality; as portrayed by my family.

Doris Day "Que Sera Sera"

The Queen Victoria Building

The Queen Victoria Building (QVB) is situated on a city block, George, York and Market Streets. In 1963 the Queen Victoria housed the offices of the Sydney County Council. 

Facing demolition in the '80s, heritage stepped in and the QVB was restored and is now a shopping complex ..

My first position was in the mail-room,  I was working with peers, my wage, eight pounds per week. This was an excellent income for a young girl. I continued my studies at East Sydney Technical College, with evening courses in advanced Shorthand and English, it was another year before I was given a promotion. 

The Sydney County Council (S.C.C.) located in the Queen Victoria Biulding (Q.V.B) dealt in the sale of electrical appliances, 'Cooking with Electricity' demonstrations, electricity accounts etc., conditions were excellent - it was 'cushy', with overtime, penalty rates, tea money, several breaks, an hour lunch, uniforms, holiday pay and long service leave.  I sat for an exam and was moved on up to the position of shorthand/typist in Sales, located in York Street.

The Council's Social Club arranged 'theatre parties' at reduced rates, to theatres, movies, restaurants, this included Sydney Stadium, Astor Motel, Theatre and the Chevron Hotel. 

I was sixteen, the Supremes were cooing in the background, girl groups were popular including The Crystals, Ronettes, Shangri Las, Shirelles and The Exciters. 

The surfing craze temporarily dominated the fashion, airwaves and Kings Cross Theatre was converted into our first live band venue. I took up the guitar.

The Beatles were just about to invade the world !!

I never quite fitted the mould, cardigans, hairspray, make-up, stockings and high-heels - little carbon copies of their mothers, was not my style.

I continued to work in governmental departments,  including University of New South Wales, Solicitors, Foundation for Treatment of Drug Addicts and Alcoholics (FRATTAD), The Chamber of Commerce, Insurance and later on Libraries and Historical Societies. 

During the 80s I relocated to Yamba and purchased a stationery store/secretarial business, Yamba Office Supplies.

By George!

Looking at photos of the 'Old Loo', each one evoking a tale. Mums Dad was a South African, he was Jewish and of German descent, her Mum was a Liverpudlian Catholic. Uncles and aunts were, Dutch, Irish and Scottish. I am told my accent, as a child, was a mixture of all these influences. Personally, I preferred the Woolloomooloo ('Loo') accent with their 'aves and 'aven'ts' much to Mum's grief. Out with the Smiths, in with the Beats.

In the late '50s the Smiths moved into 82 (see No. 82 behind Nanny Hoffman). They were from Malta. What a delight! Mary and Joe Smith had six children ages ranged from five to twenty, the kids in Brougham Street had an instant new friend.

Sadly the Smiths relocated. They were however, replaced in the 60’s. We were entertained by the new arrivals, 'The Beatniks'. Paul and his girlfriend, a tall pregnant (heaven forbid) young lady, AND she was barefooted! And, there was George. I took a fancy to George.

George was shuffled off our veranda by Mum. "Get him out of here before your father gets home" she screamed, he’s a girl Lynette. Can't you smell the perfume?", the scent was 'Taboo'

The long red ponytail and singular golden ear-ring added to the feminine allusion. George peered out at me through black horned-rimmed glasses and announced he was saving to go to England and was working as a part-time artist’s model at East Sydney Tech. I thought the ice-cream he bought me from the old Chinese fruit shop in Victoria Street. George, I believe, frequented The Royal George Hotel.

He took me for a walk to Elizabeth Bay and, somehow, I manage to meet him at the Ironworker's Building, a known communist hang near Circular Quay and we 'hand shuffled' to Graeme Bell’s traditional jazz band. I was so grown up ..me and all the beatniks! Sue Toohey and I went there often.

Couldn't find any Graeme Bell tracks today, but searching thru the op shops I found a tape of Jeanne Lewis doing Piaf, (click here) for a comprehsive site on Edith Piaf aka Little Sparrow

Edith Piaf "Non Je Regrette Rein" (1961)

1962 Dover Height Girls High

1962  courtesy Willem Kuling

What huge classes we had in those days. I am at the far end near the stair-well. Standing to the left is Mrs. Rowe, a magnificent teacher she brought to our attention  "A Brave New World", "1984", "Fahrenheit 451" and "Animal Farm" at that point in time these books were not part of our curriculum and were definitely not endorsed by the Education Department.

School Song, sung to the tune of 'Tom the Piper's Son'

"Dover Heights our song to thee, Dover Height we glory thee, Dover Heights all praise to thee, Glory, Honour, Dignity"

Photo: Catherine 'Kitty' McDonald, Liz Malone, Diane Willard, Sue Drake-Brockman, Lorraine Radford. I'm not in it!

In 1960 I transferred from Darlinghurst Public School to Dover Heights Girls High School. I soon organised a crew around me and we stumbled through life's little twists and turns together; discovering boys, make-up, and the freedom of listening to 'our' special music, mostly 'popsy' love songs. Having the odd puff on a ciggie, surfing, ice-skating etc., Saturday arvos at the 'pictures', jumping on and off the school bus, wagging school and hanging around the old tram shed at Rushcutter's Bay. High school brought many new adventures.

One of our favourite journeys was our many trips to the Sydney Stadium.

Gene Pitney, Ricky Nelson, Bobby Rydell, Bobby Vee, Crash Craddock, Johnny Tillotson, Del Shannon, Shirelles, Paris Sisters on and on I could go. The early '60s singers were polished and sang a new style of 'pop' mainly appealing to young teens. Roy Orbison was of course, the greatest, but I had a soft spot for Bobby Vee.

Me and Bobby Vee. Bobby was about to go on! Scampering across many legs (and laps), I waited at the entrance for my darling - the giant of the radio, the man with the golden voice, my link to Buddy Holly - would he be 'real'!!! Could he be real? Dashing towards a man in a suit with his hair bouffanted at least a foot high I looked him squarely in the eye. "Have you seen Bobby Vee". The face beneath the hair smiled. To my utter horror it was none other than he (him), Bobby! My mouth dropped as I gasped in shock. Now, me being 12 and not so tall for my age, well, you get the picture. I don't think I was ever the same again .. not that I have anything against short people. Utube Mr Velline

I have lost contact with these girls and we were so close for so many years, I am hoping to find them throughout this journey.

On the Radio

My first radio I called my Mickey Mouse radio, it would join me at nights, under my blankets …. it was my secret, and I played it ever so softly. The back was hanging off exposing wires and such - I was oblivious to the danger. I loved waiting until a song finished and would strain my ears as the music faded. I believed if you listened hard enough the sound would never stop.

"No, you can't take your transistor fishing Lynette!"
Well, I did and, yes I left in on a rock, and yess it got very wet and was ruined.

Mr. Seckold gave me my first transistor radio known affectionately as a 'trannie' by us teenagers. Mr. Seckold, who was one of our boarders was the only exception to Mum's 'No Drunk's Allowed’ rule. Mr. Seckold would make a bee-line to his room after a day's work at Goodyear's (bottom of William St). It was a hoot to peek into his room, he would sit in his armchair sneering and grimacing at himself in the mirror. Shit, he may have been sneering at us peeking. I guess he may have heard the shuffling and giggling. After all Mr. Seckold was nuts, but not deaf.


The Metro Theatre also referred to as The Minerva (it stood on the original Minerva Estate). The Metro Theatre was very plush and us older kids would frequent there on Saturday afternoons. During interval we'd nick over to the Rex Hotel hoping to catch a glimpse of visiting celebrities. To recall a few: Desmond Tester and The Mouseketeers. Chubby Checker, Sheena, Cisco Kid, Duane Eddy and Brenda Lee.

My grandma threw out all my treasures in 1965 this included all my autographs treasured early Beatles autographs and photos. As she said, “paper was joost roobbish”! Since 1959 I had listed every song as I heard it......this went with out with the 'roobbish'.