East Malvern’s Darling Road Methodist Church, was the centre of my life until the mid 50s. It provided a range of social activities including church picnics, camps, the tennis club and sing-alongs at someone’s home after Sunday evening services.  I was also involved with an evangelist group, ‘Campaigners for Christ’, and enjoyed many rousing meetings.

                                             Church tennis group, photo courtesy Joan Gibbs

When I left school after year 11, I trained as a hairdresser for 18 months at the Associated Hairdressing Academy. I then worked at three salons in the Manchester Unity Building on the corner of Collins and Swanston Streets: firstly for Jill Webb on the third floor, then on the eighth with Marie and Terry Ducane before going  to the seventh floor with an older lady who taught us her successful skin lotion treatment. The Manchester Unity was one of Melbourne’s iconic buildings at the time. The eighth floor had gained a dubious reputation because of the disappearance of a hairdresser who worked in a salon on that floor in the 1930s, but fortunately I survived unscathed.

It was at this time that I considered myself big time by going out for dinner to my first spaghetti café, Pellegrini’s, which was a great experience because it was so different. It was my dream to go overseas, so for six years I saved up working in Toorak with Len McPherson who remained a close friend. We had very little support from our union so our wages were very low, somewhere around £6.00 a week.

As a seventeen year old I attended the Royal Ball held in the Exhibition Building in honour of Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip visiting Melbourne for the first time in 1954. My father was the Grand Secretary of Manchester Unity and he and my mother were invited along with the senior Trustee, a 60 year old bachelor. I went along as his partner and still have the dance card presented to the ladies who all looked beautiful in satins and brocades. I was in the front row watching the Queen at close quarters while the elite of Melbourne were presented to her. I will always remember her peaches and cream complexion.

In May 1957 the USS Columbus entered the port of Melbourne for the Coral Sea anniversary celebrations.  This had become an annual event in the 50s. In the first five months of 1957, 40 different US ships made it to Australian Ports; 844 Officers and 12,056 enlisted men would have visited Australia, (thanks to the records of Australian Station Intelligence Summary 8th May 1957).  As a member of the Royal Commonwealth Society I was asked if I could volunteer to help entertain the sailors and as a 19 year old I felt it my duty as a proud Australian! We were asked to find friends who felt the same. I was also a member of the Young Liberals so I knew many  young girls happy to oblige. My friends and I were allocated eight sailors and we all met as a group and paired up to attend a social dance. My dear old social mother invited the group to a dinner in our home! A great success. All the boys were very well behaved, including my friends. In those days we lived a different but very enjoyable social life.  I still have a cigarette lighter, USS Columbus, from the sailor who gave it to me. I can’t remember his name!  My friends still remember the excitement of that event! 

Phot0 courtesy Joan Gibbs

As part of the social ritual of turning 18, my parents wanted me to make my debut. My father was an enthusiastic Mason and it was to be a Masonic Ball. In deference to him I agreed and went through the rigorous preparation for the big night. This required many practices to perfect the processional entrance requiring us to move in precise timing to ‘I’ll be Loving You Always’, curtsy with grace and then dance a waltz in a circle. We were presented to the Governor of Victoria, Sir Dallas Brookes and his wife.

As soon as I turned 18 I got my driver’s licence and borrowed 200 pounds from my father to buy a yellow Morris Mini Minor. This gave me the freedom I always needed. It meant that I could drive my friends out to the country for the day, have dinner out and return home late at night. My boy-friend Karl had a motor bike, but I only rode on it the once. I had met Karl at the Saturday night dance at the St Kilda Town Hall where I went regularly with girl-friends. Karl was a fitter and turner, and he had emigrated six months earlier from Austria with his friend Joseph, a chef. Both spoke English with strong accents. Karl lived with an Austrian couple in Hawthorn and they invited me and my friends along to the German Club on the Esplanade at St Kilda. Karl and I were a couple for some time, even spending a night in a motel in Wangaratta, but in separate rooms as considered appropriate at that time.

It was not until February 1960 that I set off for twelve months overseas to travel around Britain and Europe with friends, at one stage sleeping on the floor of a 1935 Rolls Royce. I used some of the time to do a Diploma in Beauty Culture in London. Shortly after returning home I was married.