(Note: for this Q&A we refer to Ken Magson, the founder of The London Leatherman, as Ken M)

Many stories, business dealings and customer names during the founding years of The London Leatherman were kept under lock and key and the person that comes closest to having this key is Ken Jordan, the life partner to Ken M from 1972. A statuesque, Adonis like character who at one time served in the Grenadier Guards and knows a thing or two about discretion, and so remains tight lipped about those who frequented the shop privately and wore their The London Leatherman items behind closed doors. However, those who wore the garments publicly he has many fond memories of, from The Sex Pistols to Rudolf Nureyev, the film director Derek Jarman and Tom of Finland models.

Questions by Bridget Veal

Q. Ken, you were the life partner of England’s most scandalous and provocative leather clothing maker, he was especially scandalous in the 1970s. However, you didn’t wear leather yourself, why?

A. I spent most of my time in the Grenadier Guards abroad, and was never part of ‘the Gay scene’ until I left the army in 1970. The Coleherne was my first experience of the leather scene, and I could not really understand the fascination. I had spoken to Ken M in the Coleherne a few times in 1971 and 1972 and then again in Your Fathers Moustache, a night club opposite, where Ken M did a fire eating act with Simon Munslow-Taylor. Our relationship really started there, taking Simba (the dog) for a walk after his act, dinner at The Casserole, Le Gourmet in Kings Road and in Windsor, it was a real romance. Ken and I both had leather jackets, but not leather jeans. The first pair that Ken made for me was in fact the last pair that he made in 1996, a year before he died. Neither of us seemed to need the use of the ‘toys’ that he made.

Q. What from The London Leatherman did you wear? Did Ken M ever make anything just for you, custom made?

A. The first items of clothing custom made for me by Ken M, were a light brown suede leather jacket and trousers, that were so tight I could hardly step up and down on the kerb when crossing the road in High Street Ken. Much admired in Kensington Market at the time. During our time together, I don’t think I ever bought shirts or trousers, sweaters, tank tops or cardigans. I would come home from work to find 3 pairs of trousers and shirts in different materials and colours. I did buy a suit from Cecil Gee in the Kings Road that he wanted to take apart, he said he wanted to copy the style and make me another, but I wouldn’t let him.

When we had dinners, Ken always made individual place settings, a leather rose (red, black or silver) for a lady, a small leather teddy bear for the men. On one occasion he made a special Tartan and Leather Teddy Bear for me. When Ken M made the first white Ciré nylon capped sleeve shirt with rounded collar, I wore it on the Saturday when I went to the Sunlight Laundry, next door to Granny Takes a Trip, in the Kings Road. After depositing the sheets, I went to the nearby Cafe for a coffee. A group of lads saw the shirt, and one of them bought it. I took it off and drove back to the shop elated, as was Ken M. He made them in red white and blue, and toweling material and white striped cotton, with or without pockets, a best selling item.

Q. You and Dave (Carroll) often speak about how incomparable Ken M’s creatively was, from his leatherwork, needle work and painting, his poetry, short story writing, even down to how he wrote his private diaries. Which of Ken’s creative talents stand out for you the most and why?

A. There was nothing Ken could not do with any fabric, he loved the challenge of trying new things, and became an expert pattern cutter. His mother taught him to knit and sew during the war, under the stairs, when the German Vl’s were flying overhead. He created many tapestries in wool and silk, for our home and for friends, using Aubrey Beardsley and Alphonse Mucha as inspiration. Perhaps also inspired by the Art Nouveau in Juniper, a stall in Chelsea Market run by Pattie Harrison and her sister, Jenny Boyd. He created beautiful artwork using watercolour and acrylic paints, learned from his aunt who was a local artist in Nelson and Colne Lancashire.

Ken M was a good dance and ice dancer too, and knew some of the great skaters of their day at Queens Ice Rink, especially John Curry, Olympic Gold Medalist 1976, who we both had a great affection for, and we were deeply saddened when he died. In San Francisco 1976 Ken M was offered a job, which he declined, at the ice rink, to teach skating and ice dance. He also taught me, and we spent many hours at Queens during the 70’s and 80’s.

Q. Ken M had a close working relationship with many notable designers and entrepreneurs who would come to see him in The London Leatherman workshop, most documented is his relationship with Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood. How would you describe these relationships?

A. He had a good working relationship with Vivienne Westwood who came to the shop almost on a weekly basis. Vivienne had ideas for what she wanted to produce, and some of her ideas were quite difficult, but Ken M was able to make the patterns so that they would work, and could be mass produced by the ladies who worked for Ken M. I remember her being very protective of the SEX label and always counted the garments against the labels used. Ken also produced for BOY, and collaborated with Maurice Stewart of Fetters, who as far as I know, was the only person to acknowledge, in writing, the contribution made by Ken M to the success of their company. In January 1997, Maurice also helped me write Ken M’s obituary for the Gay press. Alan Selby of Mr S Leathers bought clothing and other items wholesale, and then removed The London Leatherman labels, and replaced them with his own Mr S label, and never, in articles and editorials in America, credited Ken M or The London Leatherman.

Q. Sometimes you would be in The London Leatherman shop when The Sex Pistols came in. What was this experience like and were they as obnoxious as we’re led to believe?

A. In the summer of 1976 I was sitting in the work room at the rear of the shop, when the Sex Pistols came into the shop with Malcolm McLaren. Of course I was excited to see them, but I took a back seat and let Ken M deal with them. They all acted and behaved very well. They bought a few things, studded belts and wristbands and got measured for pairs of leather jeans. They came again at a later date and had a photo shoot outside the shop. Nothing like the performance with Bill Grundy on the Today Show in December 1976. Nice lads who perhaps were not guided or managed in their careers as they should have been. In retrospect I think they would agree. Ken and I came from a generation that did not gush and blab at every situation or encounter, and of course had no smart phones to snap every occasion that occurred. Consequently there are only a few personal photographs of the period, and one poor photograph of the shop front.

Q. Who in your opinion wore The London Leatherman clothing and accessories the best i.e looked the most stylish?

A. Me, as far as the none leather look is concerned it was all made to measure, and fitted like a dream. I had 10 Knitted Tank Tops that I rotated and dozens of sweaters and cardigans. I did wear occasionally a leather jump suit, that I wore to the Coleherne, mainly to advertise The London Leatherman, and because it fitted me better than Ken M. Certainly all the Leathermen in the Coleherne who bought from Ken M directly looked great, and of course all the young Punks in the Kings Road, who wore Ken M’s clothing and accessories, whether it was bought from BOY or Westwood/ McClaren. It was fun driving up and down Kings Road looking at the boys and girls modelling The London Leatherman garments.

Q. Today getting a tattoo is nothing, girls can walk into a tattoo parlour on the high street and walk out with a sleeve of flames and roses with no one batting an eyelid. However, you and Ken M were getting tattooed in 1975 when it was utterly outrageous, tattoos were for sailors and outlaws. What prompted you to get tattooed in 1975? And why did you choose the now legendary George Bone of Den of Skulls as your tattooist?

A. Before going to USA for the first time in 1975 Ken M wanted to have a tattoo of a design he had made of a snake. It ran from one arm to the other across his back. Naturally I had to get one too, and had an eagle and tiger’s head on each arm, ready for our trip to USA the following year. We both had further tattoo’s done by George Bone, who was considered the best of the fine line tattooists. We had both seen some really awful tattoo’s on undressed male and female bodies in the shop, and we were determined to have only the best. In total 6 for Ken M and 4 for me.

Q. You’ve lived in SW London for over 50 years and for a big part of that time in Battersea. Why do you think Ken M choose to open The London Leatherman in Battersea in the early 70s?

A. It was not much of a choice, there was a planned road extension (later cancelled) from the embankment at Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, through Shepards Bush to the A40, which would have been disastrous to his shop in Kings Road. In the early 1970’s many long leases in Kensington & Chelsea were coming up for renewal, and we thought that £38,000 for the apartment in Allen Street (where Ken M lived), off High Street Kensington, was an exorbitant amount. So, like many yuppies, we moved across the river to Battersea. The shop had a 15 year full repair lease of £6.50 per week, which suited us fine. We were soon able to buy a 3 bedroom house on Clapham Common West side in 1977.

Q. You’ve travelled a lot and in 1975 travelled to the United States where The London Leatherman was exporting an extortionate amount of leather goods to the East and West coasts of America. Do you have any fond memories of this time in America (that are suitable for sharing!), or any observations about the style scenes and culture out there compared to London at the time?

Ken M’s brother was getting married in Los Angeles December 1975, and Mel and Jan wanted Ken M to make the wedding cake. I flew out to San Francisco 5 days before him, to stay with Mike Gerena an ex Marine, who had a large apartment in the Duboce/Castro area, that is still a very gay area in S.F.

I was overwhelmed by the openness of the Gay community and scene, the shops and restaurants and cafes, and of course the Gay clubs, bars and bathhouses. So different from the restrictive Gay scene in London. Especially the Coleherne Pub at closing time, when the police would harass us with “Move on Boys and Girls.”

The Golden Rivet bar opened and all patrons received a gold rivet on a leather thong, well it was really brass, but I still have it. The Folsom Barracks Bathhouse that burned down in 1981 was in full swing, as were the many Gay venues that later closed there doors as AIDS ravaged and decimated the Gay community. San Francisco was getting ready for Christmas, and the whole city was ablaze with coloured lights and Christmas trees.

The newly built Hyatt Regency Hotel, (the lifts were used in the film Towering Inferno), had a huge clear acrylic Christmas tree that reacted to sound. Carol singers, or people clapping their hands made it shine and sparkle with iridescent light, it was quite spectacular and a unique emotional experience. It was a good time to travel in the States, as the rate of exchange was very good, and food and clothing were so much cheaper than in the U.K.

The London Leatherman was exporting more and more to America, and of course worldwide, so much so that we had a reserve in the States, that we were able to draw upon while we were there. It seemed there was nothing that we could not afford to have or to do, so much so that Ken M and I seriously thought of moving and relocating to America. The Summer of 1976, the Bicentennial year of the American Revolution, saw Ken M and I back in the USA for 3 weeks, this time considering a move across the Pond. We hired a car, an AMC Pacer, instead of the Ford Pinto that was offered, knowing that it was notoriously prone to exploding when rear ended, but we travelled far and wide in the Pacer and drove to Santa Barbara, but we didn't get there. On the way we stopped at Gazos Creek, had lunch and then went down to the beach to swim and sunbathe, but the water was so cold we gave swimming a miss. We both fell asleep and woke up to the sound of about 30 men in overalls running into the sea to swim. They were low category prisoners from a correctional institute or prison, on fire detail, to prevent and extinguish fires in the area, during the hot and dry season. Under the watchful gaze of a guard with a shotgun, we gave them fruit and chocolate and cigarettes. One of the men, covered in tattoos, wanted to show us a seal, up the beach behind a rock, but we both thought it was probably not a good idea, and declined reluctantly. We often wondered if there really was a seal behind that rock……….!

During our stay in America, instead of looking up with rose tinted Ray- Bans, this time I looked down, and saw some of the worst poverty that I had ever seen. People rummaging through dustbins looking for food. Street people and vagrants caked in dirt and filth and living in squaller on the streets. It was an eye opener and certainly influenced our decision not to make the move. I also caught Scarlet Fever, which was not diagnosed by Cedars Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles, on two visits.

Ken M flew back home, and I followed a week later, after he telephoned the awful news that Simba had died of a heart attack.

I spent 2 weeks in St. Thomas’ Hospital, where a consultant told me and his students that he hadn’t seen a case like mine since 1938. Ken M and I settled back into our happy lives, and we never returned to America, except when using Miami International Airport to transit. We took holidays instead in the Canary Islands, Haiti, Greece, Holland and Germany. In 1977 we bought a house, and a car each, a metallic blue Volvo for Ken M and a Polar white VW Golf for me. We also added a puppy, Simba 2, who on a trip to Brighton, chewed lumps out of the back seat, and the seat belts, of Ken’s Volvo, he was furious and didn’t speak at all on the way home.