Look History in the Eye, Melbourne
Look History in the Eye, Melbourne
Melbourne's ghost signs: Stories of entrepreneurs and automobiles
What secrets do Melbourne's ghost signs hold? Join us as Sean Reynolds, the Instagram-famous 'ghost sign guy' shares tales of roving North Melbourne unveiling the vibrant history embedded in every brush stroke. We pause at enchanting spots like the Maison Marnay Brandy sign, and learn about Sidney Albert Cheney, the automotive pioneer who helped bring Chevrolet and Morris to Australian roads. This is a recording from Rare Book Week 2024.
This podcast is produced by Public Record Office Victoria the archive of the state government of Victoria. To view the podcast homepage and all episodes, and to view records related to this episode go to https://prov.vic.gov.au/look-history-eye-podcast
Speaker Names
Sean Reynolds Guest
00:00
Milk bar blues. Oh yeah, here we go. I love this sign. I love it Now. I didn't grow up with milk bars, but every Monday I try to post a different milk bar from around Melbourne or Victoria. They're getting harder and harder to find this sign, though I have never seen one like it. Milk and cigarettes here we go. Milk and cigarettes and chocolate milk.
Kate Follington Host
00:33
Milk and cigarettes indeed, not really the diet of choice these days, but once upon a time they sat side by side on milk bar signs. Our guest today is going to share the background to this iconic ghost sign in North Melbourne, and if you're from North Melbourne, then this episode is for you. Sean Reynolds is an American now living in Melbourne and he's recently been dubbed the ghost sign guy by his fans on Instagram. But what is a ghost sign?
Sean Reynolds
00:54
Ghost sign. What is a ghost sign? So it's an old, faded advertisement. Typically it's found painted on the facade of a building and it stays there long after the product, service or business it advertised has vanished.
Kate Follington Host
01:08
He's so passionate about these signs that he has to know the stories behind them, and during COVID he walked around Melbourne with his six-year-old daughter photographing and researching the ghost signs of the city. Today's episode deep dives behind four of those signs from North Melbourne. Today's episode deep dives behind four of those signs from North Melbourne. My name's Kate Follington and you're listening to the podcast Look History in the Eye produced by Public Record Office Victoria, the archive of the state government. 100 kilometres of public records about Victoria's past are carefully preserved in climate control vaults. We meet the people who dig into those boxes, look history in the eye and bother to wonder why.
Sean Reynolds Guest
01:54
North Melbourne is a suburb with not only a rich history, but it has an amazing amount of ghost signs in it and I couldn't cover all of them, so hopefully Natasha and the gang will invite me back for part two.
Kate Follington Host
02:06
This is originally a recording of a presentation that Sean Reynolds did at the Victorian Archive Centre in 2024. Now this episode is best heard from the episode blog page rather than from the streaming sites. So just go to Look History in the Eye podcast online. Go to the ghost signs episode tile at the bottom of that page. When you're heading northwest by tram, you first pass the beautiful old Victorian fruit and fish markets on your left before rising up a hill to North Melbourne. The main street is Errol Street and it's lined with large white 19th century historic buildings, and the number 57 tram is old and green and rickety and it passes along Errol Street every 20 minutes or so before turning sharply left to descend down a long slope towards the train yards. And this is where Sean starts, with a giant ghost sign that covers an entire red brick wall facing Canning Street and in all capital letters, in white with a thin serif font, is written the words Maison Marnet, brandy by Penfolds, one of Australia's premium wine brands.
Sean Reynolds Guest
03:23
That is. One of the beautiful things about the signs, though, is that they are ephemeral, so even if they've been around for 130 years, they still have a shelf life. At the corner of Canning Street and Carol's Lane you can spot this magnificent vintage advertisement for Penfold's Maison Marnay Brandy Beautiful. I live around the corner from this and I have probably taken somewhere in the neighbourhood of 100 photos of it. Sometimes the light just hits different. So Maison Marnay Brandy was first launched in 1844. It was concocted by the dynamic duo of Dr Christopher and Mary Penfold, and it was originally sold as a medicinal marvel. So you can see here this from eBay. I found this on eBay. It was full-strength hospital brandy, so I'd love to get my hands on that. Here we go. It was billed as a cure for anaemia, and this potent elixir straddled the line, obviously, between stimulant and depressant. And get this. Sometimes it was administered rectally, so talk about getting drunk off your ass, right.
04:32
So this building along Canning Street. It was probably constructed, I want to say, around 1900. I couldn't find anything about it before that. By 1945, it was repurposed as a storage depot for the Melbourne Metropolitan Board of Works. Originally it was more than likely a horse stable. Now there's not a massive house around it, so I don't know if it was a stable for a certain family or if it was kind of like a public parking garage. I don't know. These are some of the things that are lost to time. Garage, I don't know. Those are some of the things that are lost to time. Judging by the typography, though, this sign itself was probably done in the 1950s. So I had to go back and look at all the different advertisements from the different years for this brand and I figured out, yeah, about 1950 would be about right.
05:22
In the late 70 Australian actress, Sigrid Thornton, uh, who's known for her roles in the man from snowy river and Wentworth, among other things. Um, she actually bought this uh stable and the two houses around it and um had a really lovely, lovely, uh lovely home there. Um, she sold it, I think it was. It was like two years ago. There was an open house. I went in to go check it out and the real estate agent could not even pretend to hide her contempt. I was like, you know, maybe I'd buy it. It was pretty nice, I had the money, but she actually saved the sign. So in the 1970s she kept the sign around, and it was people like her that, you know, keep these things going on. A lot of times they survive simply because it costs too much to cover them up. They're up too high, people are lazy, that kind of thing. So you know, oftentimes they get destroyed pretty quick.
Kate Follington
06:17
From wine to milk. A square white plastic sign with simple black block text hangs from a high metal pole off what was once a corner store on Errol Street, and it reads Milk Bar, with a single lit cigarette painted alongside it. This little sign has lasted decades, remaining still while the milk bar vanished and the shops alongside converted from retail to rental homes.
Sean Reynolds Guest
06:44
Milk Bar Blues. Oh yeah, here we go. I love this sign. I love it. Now. I didn't grow up with milk bars, but every Monday I try to post a different milk bar from around Melbourne or Victoria. They're getting harder and harder to find this sign, though I have never seen one like it. Milk and cigarettes here we go. So this milk bar sign, which is as faded as my dreams of home ownership, hangs defiantly in Errol Street, boasting block letters and a lone cigarette smouldering on its cracked face. It proudly advertises milk and cigarettes, the breakfast choice of creepy loners and serial killers everywhere. I love it.
07:26
So this shop was actually built around 1875. This is pretty old and it was the headquarters for the Thurgood brothers. So one was a carpenter and one was a contractor, and they built a lot of buildings around North Melbourne where a woman named Emma Wentworth sued him because he promised to marry her and then didn't. So her shattered heart and that breach of marriage promise basically forced him to file for bankruptcy and they ended up moving into this place. Then, by 1880, the building was the home of Thomas Riggs' grocery shop. So that was the first time it had started carrying things like milk cigarettes, and a few years later it became Alexander Macbeth's, who was a baker and a confectioner, became his confectionery shop, so kind of the precursor to the milk bar. So it's been a milk bar, or was a milk bar, since around 1890 or so.
08:31
So, Mr Macbeth, when he was here, when he was peddling his treats to the nearby school kids which are just across the street, there's a man named Michael Fiennes who was running his barber shop on nearby Courtney Street. So I will say trigger warning there's some death in some of these. So I try to keep it as light and respectful as possible. But you know, this can be distressing for some people.
08:55
One fateful morning a frantic Mary Pevis banged on his door. She was worried that her sister and brother-in-law, who lived next to Michael's shop, were in some sort of trouble because she couldn't get a hold of them. So she begged Michael to check in on them. She was too afraid to find what she might discover. So Michael reluctantly got involved and said okay, fine, I'll do it. So he found that the neighbour’s door was locked tight and there was no answer to his furious knocking. Mary, verging on a nervous breakdown, urged Michael to bust down the door. Like a kangaroo on a bender. He kicked the door in, only to be greeted by the gruesome sight of his neighbours taken out by the silent assassin of a gas leak. Pretty rough the headline of the day extraordinary misadventure with gas. I got away with words back then. So this tragic twist propelled Michael to move his hairdressing business to the building we're talking about now.
09:53
Michael died in 1917 at the age of 52, and his wife, turned the place back into a confectionery and yeah, it was basically a milk bar for quite a long time. It's kind of nice. As decades peeled away like paint from its aging walls, the shop evolved and by the 1960s it was indeed the milk bar we see before us here. So you know it was a milk bar. Through wars, peace, cultural upheavals and you know, obviously, from the sign we know you can see milk bar and cigarettes it was a haven, a sanctum for both sugar-starved students and nicotine fiends across North Melbourne.
Kate Follington Host
10:35
Still on North Melbourne's most iconic street, errol Street. The next sign on Sean's list is a beautiful, large painted sign from Joe Taylor the tailor. The sign is painted on glass and it covers the entire top third of an Art Deco shop front. The painted glass sign is turquoise, while the block capital letters along it, joe Taylor written J-O-E-T-A-Y-L-O-R. Are written in gold, brown with a distinct red and black shadow.
Sean Reynolds Guest
11:11
So ghost signs are often found painted on brick, as I talked about. They're painted on wood, we've seen them on a plastic sign, but they are also sometimes painted on glass, which tends to add a whole other level of artistry. But before I show you that sign, let's start with the story. So are you interested in good clothes? So asked an advertisement in Footscray's newspaper the Independent in 1908, heralding the grand opening of the latest tailoring establishment from the sartorial sultan of stitches, Mr Joe Taylor the tailor. Yes, a man by the name of Joe Taylor proudly held the distinguished title of tailor in and around Melbourne just after the turn of the century. According to an extensive article in the same publication, joe Taylor claimed to trace his lineage back through the annals of history to the days when one Joseph Taylor crafted garments for none other than Henry V. From there his ancestral tapestry wove through to one Richard Taylor, who apparently fashioned creations for the early 19th century arbiter of British men's fashion, beau Brummell. So apparently a relative of Joe Taylor crafted this ensemble here. His legacy continued when his great grandfather, John Taylor, clothed the Iron Duke of Wellington and finally his grandfather, the distinguished designer, responsible for the elegant ensembles donned by none other than the Lord Melbourne, queen Victoria's Favourite minister, after whom our illustrious city was named. It's quite a legacy, Joe Taylor. There you go, so right away.
12:46
It is apparent Mr Taylor possessed an exceptional talent for weaving tall tales. Here you can see some of the places he had, some establishments. So he was on Burke Street, Swanson Street, he was in Footscray, on Leeds Street, he was in Brunswick, Richmond and in North Melbourne. So he was doing pretty well for himself. Beyond his extravagant storytelling and equally audacious personal style, apparently, he was extremely flamboyant. Joe Taylor was a savvy entrepreneur operating a tailoring business in various Melbourne locations, including North Melbourne and across the rest of the city. He even ventured into the Sydney market.
13:22
Okay, so the sign that graces this charming pub, which I heard just closed I'm not sure if anyone can back that up Just been sold. Oh yes, I tried to get a drink there the other night. It was not open. So this has been here for since about 1920. So that sign is a little over 100 years old. It serves as a lasting homage to Joe Taylor, the undisputed king of clothes himself. It's very nice. This was a sign that actually was in the courtyard of the pub.
13:54
So in 1920, joe began an aggressive campaign enticing customers with his promise of five-pound suits crafted from the finest Granville tweed, with the fabric exclusively provided by A Wolkin Company Limited of Sydney. So men across Melbourne were astonished that they could acquire a Granville tweed suit for such a reasonable price five pounds. However, as the age-old adage goes, if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. It came to light that Joe had been substituting inferior materials and passing them off as the high-quality fabric supplied by A Wolkin Company. This deception led to a lawsuit against Joee seeking damages of 10 000 pounds, which I, which was like in the millions back then uh, for not million, but in the hundreds of thousands back then for breach of contract.
Kate Follington Host
14:43
Unfortunately for Mr Taylor, he lost the case and subsequently filed for bankruptcy in 1922 and ended the tale of joe Taylor the Taylor and our final sign today, discussed in today's episode of look history in the eye, is a sign for the famed car importer and salesman for ford, Chevrolet and Morris cars into Australia, Sydney, Albert Cheney. The sign was revealed along Flemington Road when a building was knocked down and a double-story brick wall exposed this ginormous old car advertisement. It reads, in giant block yellow letters running diagonally all the way up the wall Morris car with a black shadow and below it the classic Chevrolet car brand motif in large faded white paint. Below it, in a block of blue with red paint and cursive writing, is written the words Morris, division of Cheney Motors. So who was Cheney Motors? Let's hear what Sean uncovered about this legend of the Australian car industry.
Sean ReynoldsGuest
15:53
Like yanking back a cobweb-draped tarp to discover a cherry ride that's been kept hidden from your greasy paws for some long-ago gearhead. This century-old ad roared back to life with a vengeance. So it reads the new Morris car, a cry from the past that revs like an engine. Beneath it is an older sign that says new and improved Chevrolet, and it says be proud of it. So in a world spinning faster than a hot rod on steroids, relics like these are a magical portal to yesteryear. So here we go.
16:24
There's the man himself, Sidney Albert Cheney. He was born north of Adelaide in 1883. With the bravado of a moonshine runner, he once declared I refuse to be poor. I'm going to rise above the ruck of poverty and become something more than a labourer. Those were fighting words for a lad still navigating his life's roadmap. So as a young man, Cheney bolted to Adelaide, embarking on a mythical Aussie odyssey with more twists than a Formula One circuit. After a few false starts, he parked himself at Mr Davis's fruit shop. There he took the wheel of the shop's finances, discovering it was leaking money like a busted radiator. He patched it up, turned it around, prompting Mr Davis to hand over the keys to his second shop. But despite working harder than a pit crew at the Bathurst 1000, Mr Davis's wallet remained clamped shut tighter than a rusted lug nut. I love a good metaphor. Here we go.
17:15
Frustrated with his stagnant wages, Cheney shifted gears and blazed a new trail. He buckled up for a wild ride with the Duncan brothers selling Oldsmobile motor cars. But his journey was just hitting full throttle. He flipped from brand to brand, navigating the train like a peak hour commuter on Hoddle Street. He was soon selling Fords faster than a nitrous boost on a drag strip. Then he pivoted to Dodge cars. And when World War II or sorry, when World War I slammed the brakes on imports, Cheney joined forces with Holden Frost, hammering out car bodies and forging the bedrock of Australia's car industry by the roaring 20s. Our hero Cheney's the king of cars on Flinders Street, selling first Chevrolets then finally Morris cars. It's when this glorious old sign was painted, announcing the biggest thing to hit Australia's shores since the first fleet. He even wrangled Lord Neufeld, the gentleman to his left, our right. He got him to come down under to understand why his cars were stalling in sales, tweaking the design for the Australian landscape and turbocharging Morris cars manufacturing in the Australian market. Cheney rode the Morris way for a decade before taking the off-ramp to retirement.
18:22
Sidney Albert Cheney hit life's finish line in 1968, a man who never let poverty stall his dreams. Fuelled by a tank of grit and a spark of brazen determination, his journey was a rip-roaring pedal to the metal race from rags to riches. So, as he said, he was not poor. And then, lo and behold, I couldn't believe it. I was wandering around Footscray one day and, tucked away in the back streets, I stumbled upon this 57 Morris Minor, a mid-20th century relic. This was exactly what he would have been selling, and this was also made in Sydney. So here you go. I've seen a couple of them around since then, and they are beautiful cars. So there you go. So in the tale of Cheney and the Morris car in Australia, we see actually a reflection of the nation's spirit innovation, diversification, resilience. These cars are now covered at collector's items and they stand as monuments to an era when Australia's automotive dreams thunder to life, leaving tire tracks across the pages of history. Thank you.
Kate Follington Host
19:41
You've been listening to Look History in the Eye, the podcast of the State Archive of Victoria. This is a recording of a presentation that Sean Reynolds did at the Victorian Archive Centre in 2024. If you'd like to view the signs Sean was talking about, go to Look History in the Eye online and check out other episodes about Melbourne and Victorian history on our podcast page. Thank you.
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