December 7, 1967, Baker Street, London
In his early Beatles days, John Lennon was a Tory, brought up to believe—as were so many—that the Conservatives were the party best suited for power. Only they had the education and the class for the job. All the others were lacking. Later Lennon changed sides, calling himself a Labour man. But, of course, this being Lennon there had to be some kind of contradiction in his thinking.
Money obsessed Lennon from an early age, dominated a lot of his Beatle life. To Lennon, pop music was the new and best way to make cash. It was “a modern form of success.” In 1964, he was asked if he thought himself a good role model for young people, he said, “Only how to make money quickly, which is a good example, I think.”
In 1965, with the other band members gathered around him, John told Playboy, “We’re money-makers first; then we’re entertainers.” Ringo corrected him. It was still viewed as unseemly to be so openly naked about money. “We are entertainers first, John.”
“That’s right, of course,” John said hastily, then, desperately covering his tracks, he added, “It’s just that the press drives it into you, so you say it ’cuz they like to hear it, you know.” Yeah, right.
In 1966 in the famous Evening Standard interview in which John made his “Beatles are more popular than Jesus” comment, John showed journalist Maureen Cleave around his house, proudly pointing out all his acquisitions. Chief Beatle and journalist then went for a drive. In the car, Lennon showed Cleave the vehicle’s luxuries such as a television, folding bed, refrigerator, writing desk and telephone. If Lennon had chosen to, he could have conducted all his business from the back of his Rolls-Royce. Lennon did complain about the phone, though, informing Cleave that despite numerous attempts, he had only been able to make one call from his car. Technology had not yet caught up with him.
Lennon then started the car up and took Cleave for a ride in the countryside. As they drove through the green Surrey landscape Lennon described himself as “famous and loaded.” He also confessed that despite his huge earnings, he constantly worried about money. Although his accountants kept telling him his finances were buoyant and healthy, Lennon was truly frightened that by the age of 40 he would have frittered away the lot. It explained his recent decision to sell off some of his other cars. However, he then revealed, when he was told there had been no need to make such a move, he went out and bought them all back again.
Money to Lennon represented power and the only way for a man like him to attain that power was to work terribly hard, or be born into a rich family. Then displaying some of the political nous he would become famous for during the 70s, he stated that in the end the only winners were the government. “That joke about keeping the workers ignorant is still true; that’s what they said about the Tories and the landowners and that; then Labour were meant to educate the workers but they don’t seem to be doing that anymore.”
A year later his thinking—like the rest of the band’s—had been radically altered, turned on its head by exposure to radical anticapitalist ideas, his generous use of LSD, and by undertaking meditation. Suddenly, his deep-seated belief that he was of the Left surfaced and it was this that helped contribute to the band’s new Utopian ideal—Apple.
Apple was launched in 1967, the day accountants Bryce Hammer & Co. told the band that they could either hand three million pounds to the British Government or use it themselves. They chose the latter and decided to set up an umbrella organization that would turn people’s ideas into reality. Be it a book, a film, a song or even a gadget, if the band liked it then you would be given the money to realize it. Not only that, Apple would not use commercial traditions but would set up an alternative model to capitalistic enterprises. Who else but The Beatles would have the imagination, the talent and finally the courage to execute such a scheme? Chalk up another first. This was the hippy dream made real.
Their first venture was into the world of fashion. Some of their money had already been used to acquire property on the corner of Baker Street and Paddington Street in Marylebone. Apple offices were installed on the top floor while the downstairs was turned into a shop they would name the Apple Boutique. The band gave The Fool collective £100,000 to design and produce a range of clothing and to decorate the outside of the building. They came up with an amazing design that lasted only a few weeks before they were asked to paint over it by the building’s landlords. Lennon, who had bought his close friend Pete Shotton a supermarket on Hayling Island, Hampshire, gave him the job of shop manager.
However, this would not just be a clothes shop, per se. It would also sell other things such as books, records, bric-a-brac and anything else that caught the eye. Paul wanted the shop to sell white china, which was not readily available in London, while George of course wanted spiritual objects to be sold. Jenny Boyd, Pattie’s sister, took up employment there.
A party was held on December 6, 1967 to which John and George showed up munching apples, and on the 7th the shop opened for business. It was a success at first, with people digging deep into their pockets with Christmas just around the corner. But by mid-January the reality was setting in. The Fool’s designs were striking and individual but they had not been cut to fashion-standard sizes. Potential buyers simply could not wear them or indeed afford them.
The shop had started to hemorrhage so much money that McCartney stepped in and asked John Lyndon, a former NEMS employee and theatrical producer, if he would turn the venture around. Lyndon agreed and set about looking for fashions that were accessible and affordable. His mission was just gaining ground when at a meeting in July at the new Apple offices at 3 Savile Row, John read an article in Melody Maker written by DJ John Peel asking why The Beatles were acting as rag-trade merchants. John instantly ordered the shop to be closed, much to Lyndon’s shock.
The night before closure the band showed up with their partners and took everything they wanted. The next day, July 31, 1968, word was put out that everything left was being given away for free. A mass of people descended on the shop and stripped it bare. “The idea of it was much better than the reality,” George said after the venture collapsed. “It was easy to sit around thinking of groovy ideas, but to put them into reality was something else. We couldn’t because we were not businessmen. All we knew was hanging around studios making up tunes.”