By Review By Daphne Guinness
First impression of this book is its colourful cover, dazzling to the eyeballs; second, its weight makes it impossible to read curled up on the sofa. A lectern is vital. Inside, there's chief executive Paul Zahra confessing he's excited when he arrives at work. And no wonder. ''It's like Dallas for its dalliances with family dynasty. Money. Sex. Scandal and romance,'' he said at the book launch.
There's only one way to tackle it. Flick the pages one by one, drown in the pictures. Then turn to the text. O'Neill was lucky that Barbara Horton, the company's archivist for 35 years, kept impeccable records all that time. The author had full access to the letters, diaries, accounts etc from the year dot. Surprisingly, for a book written with management approval, she includes all the scandals and secrets. (Or does she? I suspect some are buried still among the memorabilia at DJs Silverwater warehouse.)
Check it out: This 1977 Vogue Australia ad mirrors the era's mores.
Still, it's not just a dry account of 175 years of a store's life. There's meat on the bones. When founder David Jones opened in 1838 he could have had no idea that in 2010 managing director Mark McInnes would be forced to resign after a sexual harassment suit. Neither would he have a clue that chairman Sir Charles Lloyd-Jones' wife Hannah would treat David Jones' as her personal fiefdom to everyone's fury. Or that Adelaide Steamship's John Spalvins would raid David Jones to win, then lose in spectacular fashion, the world's oldest department store still trading under its original name.
Between sepia pictures of buildings, catalogue covers, high-fashion dresses and shoes, and contemporary shots of Miranda Kerr and Megan Gale, we learn the founder had problems of another kind. With mail taking eight months to turn round, he wrote a stern letter to his recalcitrant supplier in England to ''buy at half-price when the London season is over''.
David Jones': 175 Years by Helen O'Neill.
In 1873 he died and brother Edward took over. Thank him then for mail-order shopping, as game-changing as online shopping, and thank grandson Charles Benyon Lloyd-Jones for the store's credit card. Also for an eyebrow-lifting display of Michelangelo's David full-frontal naked in the Elizabeth Street store in Sydney (his genitalia covered in Adelaide and Melbourne).
It's when contemporary characters creep in that the story becomes really interesting. Bernie Leser, who reached the dizzy heights of Conde Nast chairman of publications Asia/Pacific, sold shoes at DJs. Former prime minister Paul Keating was tossed out as ''unsuitable''. Publicist/designer Maggie Tabberer first modelled there. But only decorator Ros Palmer had the wit to value the store's unappreciated Rodin sculptures ''worth five hundred guineas the lot, everything was worth five hundred guineas in those days'', while John Spalvins confessed, ''I didn't have the heart to sell them'', then gave them to the Art Gallery of NSW (pocketing a $500,000 tax reduction in return).
We are denied the juicy details of how managing director Brian Walsh was headhunted for Harrods, which is a shame. And the idea that an Australian store could give a state banquet for the Queen in its seventh-floor Great Restaurant is laughable (at least to this Pom reviewer) and worth more than describing the menu.
But this is nit-picking. The pictures are more than fun to flick through; they cleverly mirror the history and social mores of the time, showing how hedonistic people were.
Anyway, further on, as if leaving the best for last, there's a sudden rush to turn on the heat. Delicious tales of bigamy, accusations of bastardry, and a pointed remark that Spalvins' takeover failure was the largest such collapse in Australian history are interspersed with public outcry over sacking the pianist who played there forever, and a reminder that McInnes' sexual harassment charge by former staffer Kristy Fraser-Kirk turned into a nightmare $37 million suit (settled out of court).
Zahra says David Jones has now turned into a House of Brands (it took two years to get Armani in). ''And looking for a logo to describe the store's new image, The Big Red Group has come up with WAS. IS. ALWAYS,'' he added, sounding more relieved than excited.
DAVID JONES': 175 YEARS
Helen O'Neill
NewSouth, 320pp, $59.99