David Self 1938

David Self

This account of David’s life was provided during an interview he gave for the book ‘Bent Is Not Broken’ by MJ Buckman. The book, published in November 2023 by UpLit Press, features David as “Duncan”.

Early Years in Epsom

I was the youngest of seven children. I was the little one at the end. My mum was like my granny as she was 46 when she had me. She loved everybody. I spent loads of time with my mum, helping her with all the chores. Dad was very handsome – a bit frightening. He loved the girls but was strict with me. He became a male nurse in the hospital, so I saw little of him. At Sunday lunch we would wait for him to tell us we could talk. I was frightened of him to be honest. We were living in Epsom, and we were near stables; he objected to my friendships with the stable boys – not that there was anything sexual. I spent a lot of time with two of my sisters – one of them was like a mother. My sister and I would buy the same shoes – ones with buckles. I loved gardening with Mum and Dad.

During the war, I remember the Doodlebugs going over. We were on the path for the bombs that were being unloaded, so Mum sent me away to Liverpool, but we were in the thick of it there, so I went back to Epsom. I went to a little school in Epsom Downs. We were lucky to get two hours of school a day. I was never allowed to play football, I wasn’t masculine enough, that’s what it was. I was sent to go gardening or look at an atlas. Also, you had to have football boots, and we couldn’t afford such things. I didn’t really learn anything at school, and left at 16.

I used to go to Church because it was the thing to do. I liked the pomp and the circumstance, I liked it for the wrong reasons.

Leaving school, starting work, self-discovery

After leaving school with little knowledge, I had to go to night classes to learn basic maths. At 17, I passed the GCE for Art; that helped me get into the art world. I got a job in London with Tootals. I studied fabric design and theatre staging for fashion shows in the salon downstairs. I went out buying accessories for the fashion shows, going to Oxford Circus every day. One day, a rather nice looking gentleman was looking at me on the Underground. He said, “Come on, I’ll make a little space for you here.” I was being cuddled on the Underground! Next time I saw him he said, “Why don’t we have a cup of tea on the way home?” I said I mustn’t be late. He took me back to his flat under Waterloo Station. He was wearing stockings and a suspender belt. He fumbled around but I didn’t like it, and he respected that. I had found the cuddling on the tube very lovely though.

I found out what being gay was about a month or so later. At Tootals I met a lot of people in
the art world. One man started giving me comps (complementary tickets) to go to the 
theatre. There was this boy Jack – Jack was the first one. We started doing everything. It felt very natural, but we had to be careful as it was illegal. I was frightened to tell anyone.

I was still in short trousers at 14, and by 16, I was going to gay clubs! The first club most people went to was A and B (Arts and Battledress). It was run by a gentleman called Graham who was like Mrs Shufflewick. He always greeted you and wore a different hat every day. It was up all these steps, and that if there had been a fire we wouldn’t have stood a chance. Every Friday night I ended up somewhere. It was a bit difficult as my parents were waiting for me. But it felt wonderful dressing up. Mum was very interested to be part of my life and my friendships.The first night of My Fair Lady, lots of boys were in black and white drag from the Ascot scene. This was my first experience of drag and it was in Leicester Square – it was fabulous. It wasn’t this dreadful plastic drag – it was men dressing as women and becoming women. There was great humour, bitchy humour. I was having fun. I was little, I was blonde, and I was chased a bit. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Polari had already gone by then, although I was aware of the private Polari conversations. Our signals in the 1950s were a camp voice, a signet ring on the little finger on the right hand, and one stud earring.

National Service

I was called up for National Service at 18. I was insulted but so was everyone. I had six weeks training in Aldershot then we could apply for postings. There was a war going on in Aden at the time, but I didn’t want to go there, I chose to go to Sandhurst, not thinking I’d get it. They sent a jeep for me, and I cleaned my little shoes. I had a lot of blonde hair, and they said, “That lot’s coming off!” They showed us our berets and said, “These are not jelly boy hats – we leave those to Princess Margaret.”

I was in an office doing forms for requisitions and orders. The sons of rich people were at Sandhurst. They had to have rifles, bullets et cetera when they went out on manoeuvres. I got to know quite a few young men, many just newly married and away from their loved ones. Many had casual relationships with me. In the cadets there were many that were gay. They would tell me they were away from their loved one and they knew they would get something.

I was de-mobbed at 21.

London life in the sixties and seventies

I came back from the Army and went to live at home again. Mum knew I was close to the boys – she must have known what was happening. Dad was always working or at the allotment, so I didn’t see him much.

I looked around for work and found a window dressing job at DH Evans in Oxford Street. I told lies to get in, but I was as good as anybody else. I stayed there two years then went freelance with Wedgewood China, and then Swan and Edgar in Piccadilly. It was outrageous to be on Picadilly with all the tarts and prostitutes – I used to give them stockings from the shop. Then I went to Bear Brand Hosiery and met Ann Ford, an ex-chorus girl. She was a lovely woman and helped me tremendously. I was earning very little, and I was trying to go places. She’d say, “Pop into Burlington Arcade and say I sent you” and they would give me discounted suits. Then I went to Richard Shops doing window displays. I loved it. I went all-over the country. On Saturday I used to have a little extra job doing windows and I always gave that money to my mother for nice clothes – she loved it.

I mixed with gay people socially and my job was in the arts – I never had any aggression against me. By my twenties I was gay and very comfortable with gay people, and flattered that they were kind to me. I was aware of lesbians. I didn’t get involved with anything political. I never thought I had the brains. I went along on the good side of life. If there was anything like being asked to join parades, I didn’t become involved.

I didn’t talk openly about anything with Mum. I changed clothes when I got off the train at Waterloo. Every Friday we went shopping in Carnaby Street to buy a new shirt before going clubbing. Vince Green and John Stevens were the original Carnaby Street gay shops. Vince would sometimes run out of shirts on a Friday, as everyone bought a new shirt every week ready for our weekend of fun.

I would pick up a boy and usually every Sunday would take him home for my mum to cook for him. I had to explain a few love bites. They were often foreign boys. I had lots of one night stands and lots of visits to St Mary’s VD clinic!

I never really liked going to those places with a hole in the wall for sex, and anyway, I was too small to reach the hole, and would need a step.

The 50 50 club used to get raided. Me and my pals would all go up ladders onto the roof wearing our little bits and bobs and the police would take away the ladder, then go and get an officer.

At Bear Brand, one of the people in charge was a lesbian. She was very smart but was butch as hell at the weekends. She told me about The Gateways in Kings Road – I went there and was picked up by a lesbian who thought I was a lesbian. As a group, lesbians could become aggressive thinking they weren’t equal.

I met Nick in 1967. We bought a fashion shop in Wimbledon which we ran for a few years. He had a very nice house which I used to stay in a lot. My mother knew him so well;. It was never odd to me – I am what I am. I am just me. I think I have more of a feminine brain.

I met Noel Coward in a pub in Battersea – the Cricketers. They had a piano and drums that two lesbian ladies played. He got up on stage and then came and chatted to us – he was lovely. I went to his 70 th birthday party and met Ann Bancroft there.

I was doing amateur dramatics – musicals. We had some fabulous costumes, and I loved it. I once spent a night in the clink in 1969. We were stuck in a cell in Battersea for a few hours. There were girls in drag in there saying, “Darling, I need to shave in a minute!” We laughed
it off.

After our shop closed down, I went on a course for London Electricity. If you were having problems, we’d go and sort out your bill and help you. I did this for 20 years and loved it. I also became a horticulturalist and won a bronze medal at the Chelsea Flower Show. I lived with Mum until she died in 1996 aged 84, then bought her bungalow. When Mum died, Graham at the A and B asked if he could have her hats, and from then on I used to see my mother’s hats regularly bobbing along on Graham’s head.