REACHING OUT TO THE CITY LIGHTS….CHAPTER 11

             

         My beloved Sasha, en route to the property at the rear of our new abode in Toowong, Circa        1969/70

Annette Allison in her TV Presenter/Weather Girl Hey Day!

                         

The beautiful,  now late Maggie Tabberer....from younger days through....

The late Carla Zampatti on the left.  Miranda Kerr modelling one of her designs at the right

                            

 (I finally fixed the problem I was having with trying to blog.  I will now also be able to catch up with the blogs of others...thank goodness!  I hope everyone is enjoying the Christmas Season...and I wish everyone a safe, and Happy New Year...and that the safety and happiness last throughout 2025)

 

A few month’s into our first year of the joint marketing, Sasha, my beloved ginger cat and I left the New Farm flat to live in a brand-new apartment in a building of eight apartments, which had been completed within days before I took up occupancy. Other than the young owner/landlord and his mate who occupied the townhouse at the rear of the building, I was the first tenant to move into the new apartment block in the Brisbane inner western suburb of Toowong,  Sasha took one look at his new residence, nodded his head in agreement, and then immediately found his cosy spot on my, or should I say “our” bed.

I became “married” to my job. My life revolved around my work and the Kolotex Group of Companies. I didn’t take holidays. Holidays were of no interest to me as there was so much happening within the company, and my role in it all was major. Plus I was far more interested what was unfolding around me than going on a holiday. I’d miss out on all the exciting fun! Sick days were not part of my vocabulary, either.

New lines were being produced regularly, in all three branches of the company, meaning promotional evenings had to be planned to present them to the retailers. For the first year, Queensland Caterers were hired to handle the catering side for such evenings, but soon my interest in food again came to the fore. I presented a plan to my boss, the Queensland manager, who agreed with my idea. He forwarded it on to the Sydney office for their “official” approval, but it was a done deal even before their final agreeable nod.

Our young receptionist, Dale, soon blotted her copybook. Eventually I had no option other than to sack her. Not a month went by without her taking two, three or more days off work “sick”. I had no evidence to prove her deception, being forced to wait until she slipped up. Her attitude became brazen and cocky, tossing her nose in the air at instructions, and then one day she tripped over her own deceitful attitude and careless ways.

Westfield built a new shopping centre with a lot of publicity hullabaloo surrounding the development. The televised grand opening was occurred on a Wednesday. Dale’s mother telephoned me advising that her daughter was sick, and was unable to come into work.

On the television news that evening on the television screen as large as life almost, was Dale, arms laden with shopping bags filled with the day’s grand opening specials! Full of confidence and obvious good health, she bounced into work the following morning. I promptly summonsed her to my office, wherein she proceeded to continue with her lies until I made it clear to her that the television camera told no lies. I fired her on the spot, telling her to pack up her things and head back home as she seemed to prefer it to her workplace. A little while later, her mother telephoned to verbally abuse me on behalf of her daughter. I listened to her rant for a short while.

Before hanging up the phone, I said, “Your daughter is not entirely to blame for her behaviour. You’re the one mostly at fault here as you are aiding and abetting your child in her lies, in her deceitful ways. What chance does she have when she has a mother who lies for her and urges her to do similar?” That was the end of the telephone conversation.

Dale's replacement was Julie.

For the Queensland office’s future promotional evenings my idea was I would take over the catering from the “professionals”. I would plan, order, purchase and prepare the food for our future promotional evenings. Excited that my idea was agreeable to all concerned, I could hardly wait for our next event. I believed I could offer our clients better food than commercially-prepared fare, plus I would get paid for my services. The latter was a further motivating incentive for me! The company was invoiced and payment was received by me accordingly. Everyone benefited from our "expansion" into the catering business because the young staff members were trained in the art of food service...and washing up! The nights were good learning experiences for my staff because the functions gave them opportunities to meet personally with our retail clients on a different playing field. Such evenings gave them a further insight into business enabling them to understand their important roles in it.

To explain the ‘promotional evenings’…during my years with the Kolotex Group of Companies we held many such evenings, and all were hugely successful. We had a few crazy, fun ideas such as a London black cab and London double-decker bus. We almost lost the top deck of the bus, transferring retail buyers up to the Mount Coot-tha one evening for a promotion at the Channel Nine television studios. I exaggerate a teeny bit, but the bus did almost get stuck under the overhead railway bridge at Toowong, much to the delight of our champagne-swilling guests.

The London cab was purchased by the company around the same time, but I can’t really remember the reason why. I know I used to revel in feelings of importance and hysterics the mornings John, my boss, would stop by my apartment in Toowong to drive me to work in the black cab.  Purposely, I’d sit in the rear seat. We raised many bemused, interested looks as we drove to the office building. John wore a small cap, similar to those worn by vintage car owners, so he suited the part. I pretended to be regally aloof as I practiced the “royal” wave!

Not only did I handle all the catering and everything involved with the catering side of our promotional evenings, but I also worked closely beside John in the choreography and themes to be used by the models during those evenings. We worked intuitively with the modeling agencies. We had our favourite models, whom we used regularly. We knew what we were looking for.

Actually, the first ever pantyhose commercial produced in Australia was produced by John, as me as his loyal offside, at the Channel Nine studies, in Brisbane. Annette Allison, well-known television newsreader and presenter was the “star” of the “sit-down” commercial/ad. Annette began her career in television when she was only eighteen year old. Some of my Aussie readers may know of Annette. She now lives in Melbourne and has done so for many years. Annette Allison was one of our favourite people to use as she was a “television girl” with a beautifully modulated speaking voice. Annette, also, was a huge fan of Kolotex. She and I remained mates for many years. The last time I saw her was when we ran into each other accidentally in Melbourne one afternoon during my Hinchinbrook Island management days. Preplanned, I was meeting a friend for drinks at the Brunswick Hotel early on that Friday afternoon. Arriving at the designated place and time, who should also be one of his guests, no one other than Annette! It was such a fun coincidence, but that’s another story for another day!

One massive promotion the company sunk their teeth into was when Kolotex flew a photographer, his crew and three models to Easter Island and Machu Picchu in Peru for a hosiery shoot. The launch of a new range of pantyhose was in the wings, with the new exciting product being centred on Erich von Däniken’s “Chariots of the Gods”.

Invitations were extended to the Peruvian Consul and his wife, as well as to the Chilean Consul in Brisbane.

We always held two consecutive evenings; one for the Myer Group, and other major stores and boutiques; and the second night was solely for the David Jones stores. David Jones’ people were a little more conservative than the others. It was best that we held separate events.

On the day of the first evening a grey-haired gentleman, bearing a black Gladstone bag under his arm, arrived at the reception area asking for me. Opening the bag, he produced some bottles of Chilean wine, telling me they were “with compliments from the Chilean Consul”, a Dr. Robert Wright. I asked the dapper gentleman in front of me if he was Dr. Wright, but he said, “No, I run his messages for him.”

With a twinkle in his eye and a smile, he went on his way. Shortly after his visit, a courier arrived from the Peruvian Consul, bearing bottles “Ica Pisco”. Pisco is a brandy distilled from whole white Muscat grapes. Both Chile and Peru claim it to be their national drink, causing a little consternation between the two countries. Peru was the first to produce Pisco back in the 1530s.

As our guests began arriving, amongst them was the “grey-haired gentleman” who, in fact, was Dr. Robert Wright. Athough he was a “true blue, born and bred Aussie”, Dr. Wright was the Chilean Consul, and had been for many, many years.

Robert Wright was a Doctor of Dentistry. He was Queensland’s first Doctor of Dentistry. Robert served in the Second World War, and still carried a bullet from when he was injured when serving in Guadalcanal. Born, raised and educated in Brisbane, the home named “Sunnyside” in which he lived in at the Brisbane riverside suburb or Kangaroo Point, had been constructed in the 1890s.  The home had been in his family since 1920 when his father purchased the property from the son of the original owner.

The Peruvian Consul, whose name I’ve forgotten, and his wife attended the function, too. He was very quiet and conservative, a vast contrast to the more gregarious Dr. Wright.

Throughout the country Kolotex ran a competition, offering trips to Easter Island and Machu Picchu to the winner from each state. A woman from Townsville, who worked at James Cook University in that northern city, won the Queensland section of the competition. She attended our office to receive her flight tickets and accommodation details before leaving Australia for her prize destinations. We never heard from her again, perhaps she’s still over there somewhere chasing llamas!

After each of these promotional evenings John and I would be exhausted. A lot of careful organization and planning went into the evenings. Beforehand, John would stress about giving his “sales pitch”, having to stand “bare-faced” in front of a showroom filled with our VIP business guests. He was a “man of words”, very intelligent, well-read and well-traveled, having at one time been the overseas’ buyer for a major South Australian retailer named John Martin & Co. Ltd; colloquially known as “John Martin’s”, or “Johnnies”.  It was an Adelaide=based menswear company that operated for more than 130 years.  It closed in 1998.

For a number of years, John, my boss, had been based in London, as their menswear representative/agent for easy access to Europe. When the Cold War broke out he returned to Australia.

John’s deep, dulcet tones commanded one’s attention, but he still fell victim to his nerves at such times, and suffered “stage fright” the few minutes before facing the madding crowd of buyers etc. Knowing him well, I would make him empty out his trouser pockets of all loose coins and car keys, as he’d gained a habit of jingling whatever was in his pockets when he was nervous. I would coach him to calm down, telling him just to relax, and then I’d hand him a stiff Scotch. It became the normal thing for me to place myself in the centre of the room amongst the keenly interested buyers, department heads and store-managers within John’s eye line.

We had concocted between us secret signals. A nod or shake of my head, unnoticeable to others; a blink of an eye or a raised eyebrow; each had its own meaning or warning. We certainly became an excellent double act!

In handling the catering side of the evening I made notes and notes during the weeks beforehand, planning the style of food for the evenings, listing ideas and ingredients, desirous that the menu I chose fitted the “theme” of the particular promotion.

After raiding the supermarkets, butchers and delicatessens, soon the kitchen in my apartment was overflowing with groceries, which also spilled over to the staff room at the company’s Baxter Street premises. The staff room had been fitted out full-sized refrigerator, a portable “Roden” oven and cook-top, benches, cupboards, sink, small table and chairs during the original preparation of the building for our occupancy.

For the duration of the functions, I’d hire an upright holding/warming oven or two from a catering equipment supplier. These ovens were about six feet high by two and a half feet wide. Somehow, I’d squeeze them into the rather confined room that had originally been designed to cater for in-house staff only, not fifty or more hungry visitors. The day before the planned event, I’d spend at home preparing the majority of the menu in my own kitchen, leaving the final preparation to be done in the staff room on the day of the function.

Transferring the ingredients, pots, trays and containers of food into the premises at Baxter Street became a major “meals-on-wheels” manoeuvre of expertly timed precision.

For one such occasion I prepared twelve traditional English trifles as part of the desserts. I made egg custards and coconut macaroons for the trifles from scratch using the little Roden oven and cook-top. I must have been insane or stupid…perhaps both! Glassware and cutlery were hired to cover the requirements. A bar was set up at one end of the showroom in question. The staff had a quick lesson in the art of bar-tending as well the service of food. It was a "win-win" situation for all concerned.

So there I was chief caterer for our promotional evenings as well as secretary, office manager and whatever else I was. Titles have never meant anything to me. I was John's secretary, and under that umbrella I expanded my horizons. He allowed me to fly free, never clipping my wings.

Kolotex soon became the “talk of the town” because of our wildly successful promotional evenings. No one else could match them.

Carla Zampatti, the now late acclaimed Australian fashion designer, at that stage a few years into her career, was contracted to design a signatory range of women’s wear by the Rogtex Clothing division. I was the first person to cater for Carla in Queensland. Her virgin trip to Queensland Carla was as our “special guest” at the launch of “Rebecca by Zampatti”, the line of women’s clothing bearing her signature. She was a stunning-looking woman, tall with golden skin, evidence of her Italian heritage. Carla Zampatti was born in Italy. With her family, she settled in Australia in 1950. Her personality and grace matched her good looks.

The beautiful, effervescent, unstoppable Maggie Tabberer, former model, owner of designer label “Maggie T” and well-known personality was also contracted at one stage, putting her name to a new pantihose line being produced. Maggie sadly passed away on 6^th December, 2024, five day away from her 88^th birthday, the 11^th December. It was once said about her that she “was too beautiful to be a model”. She certainly has been a bright light in Australia’s fashion, television, and editorial industries for many years.  Maggie was an honest, straight-forward, no-nonsense person.

Coincidentally I was to meet up with her again a few years later, in my greengrocery-healthfood store in Hastings Street, Noosa Heads, circa 1985.

Our company became the major runner in the hosiery field and in the metal-mesh world of handbags and accessories. The Rogtex division was a minor player in the fashion industry compared to others in that field, but it still played its small, though important part well. Its customer base was slowly but surely increasing throughout the retail outlets in Queensland and Northern New South Wales.

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunnyside,_Kangaroo_Point     The late Dr. Robert Wright's home.
   

To be continued.....