Danny Brigg, a sensitive, greying salesman who did his training at Harrods, has a sense of discretion that would never allow him to name names.
But he can say that he has watched with some dismay, some CEOs of multi-national companies employing thousands, standing rigidly in his boutique as their wives make up their minds about the type of suit their husbands should wear. He gets to his feet, arms stretched stiffly by his sides, looking tremblingly down at his polished English shoes to demonstrate. A man should, he says, sitting down again, have the confidence to be able to make up his own mind about the type of suit he is going to buy. Particularly when the Italian-crafted creations he sells can cost as much as $2,000. ‘Some wives can be very overpowering.’
It is tempting when you walk downstairs in the classy Imperial Plaza complex in Surfers Paradise to Danny’s JW Boutique, to call: ‘Are you free, Mr. Brigg?’ Danny, grey-moustached, impeccably dressed, would be too polite not to laugh. ‘But you know, there was a Mr. Peacock or two at Harrods. They used to dress very well, and of course we also had to be well presented.’
As a lad he joined the Knightsbridge store as a Christmas casual, worked through Crockery and Haberdashery and eventually made it to Menswear, where he immediately realised his life’s career lay. ‘The pay was bad, but it was old-school conservative and prestigious to say you worked there.’ Down "in the dungeons", in Dispatch, he recalls fondly, worked a lot of "ockerish" Australians who lived in "Kangaroo Valley" (Earl’s Court).
Were the customers nice to him?
‘Well, some were a little stuffy. We had to know how to address the various lords and ladies, but I must say they were very courteous. One day Sean Connery came in for a suit and he was so quiet and unassuming. All the salesgirls from other departments sneaked in to see him.’
Sadly he has found, on trips back to England, that standards of service are not what they were 30 years ago. ‘I would say Australian service has improved so much that it is now on an equal with the best over there.’
Secrets? A touch to his salt-and-pepper moustache and a glance around the hushed boutique and its $500,000 worth of merchandise hanging on racks. ‘After Harrods I went to work with an exclusive ladies’ shoes shop in Bond-st. and Bill Wyman of The Rolling Stones used to come in to buy boots in pink, yellow and purple. He had small feet and all he could buy in men’s shops were black, brown and navy. The Duchess of Kent used to come in before she was married and we all knew her by her first name.’
Danny went to Holland to work for 15 years because he met a Dutch girl on a Spanish holiday and they married. ‘The Dutch Royal Family would come into my store to buy their clothes - Prince Wilhelm Alexander, in casual jeans and a Sloppy-Joe.’
The "high and mighty" have, over the years, sometimes been rude and condescending, but, he shrugs, ‘you just have to wear it. Sometimes you are treated like the scum of the earth - and it happens here in Australia as well, believe me. You have just got to grit your teeth and smile. It’s part of this job. We are in the customer service business and that’s what it’s all about.’
A gentleman came into JW’s the other day and said to Danny that he needed a pair of slacks. He had always had his tailored in Sydney and paid $650 for them. Danny suggested a fine, off-the-peg pair of the highest Italian quality, ‘and he tried them on, because he was a normal size. They were by Corneliani, and he said they had a lovely feel and how much were they? $295. Now the word is out, people on holidays from Sydney or Melbourne know they can get a better deal here on the Gold Coast.’
Danny has firm ideas on tailor-made v. off-the-peg. ‘I only ask you to look at John Major and how badly his suits fit. They are very stiff and appear as though they have shrunk on him. His suits are cardboardy. Prince Charles’ suits are a classic example; he has his tailor-made all the time. To be honest, they don’t seem to fit properly, there are lots of pullings of buttons and creasing about the shoulders. Imported Italian, machine-made suits these days are so expertly crafted, with softer turnings, and a better fit under the armpits because they have a deeper cut. The whole "feel" is more comfortable.’
Danny only once had an English suit tailor-made, and ‘basically,’ he says, ‘you could not then get a better suit.’ Today the charcoal-cool, three-button suit with side-vents he wears, complemented by Church’s brogues, is factory-made. From Italy.
