For the ages

The irony of living in a heritage suburb is in how easy it is to take history for granted. From the terraces we live in to the pubs where we drink, the past is so interwoven into the fabric of Paddington life, it sometimes becomes invisible to the local eye. 

However, there is one story hidden within our Victorian heritage that is guaranteed to catch attention, and it’s a cautionary tale about how close we came to losing it all. 

In the early 1960s, the fate of Paddington hung in the balance. Zoning proposals encouraged wholesale demolition of the neighbourhood to make way for high-rise development, along with plans to create arterial roads extending through Paddington and west Woollahra. 

At the time, it probably didn’t look like there was much to save. After World War II, the suburb was designated a slum, leaving it neglected, rundown and primed for development. 

But inside the Goodhope St home of broadcaster and poet John Thompson and his wife Pat, a small revolution was brewing: one that would plant the seeds of urban activism in Australia and save the Paddington that we enjoy and love today.

The Thompsons could see the value of their neighbourhood’s heritage and its diverse community, despite its rough-around-the-edges appearance. And thanks to a chance meeting with like-minded residents — architect Don Gazzard and his wife Marea, a sculptor — they formed the Paddington Society in 1964 as a grassroots response to the growing pressure from developers to raze much of the Victorian-era architecture to the ground.

American anthropologist, Margaret Mead famously said: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.”

The sentiment sums up the early work of this dedicated group of locals. Through public meetings and political lobbying, the Paddington Society, which is considered the first resident action group in Australia, secured a public inquiry into the development proposals and saved one of the earliest residential and commercial parts of the area from the wrecking ball. 

They didn’t stop there. During the following decades, the group worked tirelessly to create a legacy of protection that would endure past their lifetimes. Their groundbreaking document, Paddington: A Plan for Preservation, led to many conservation initiatives and in 1974 the suburb was classified as an urban conservation area by the National Trust of Australia in NSW, making it the first suburb to be recognised by the trust.

It was member and later president Pat Thompson who understood the importance of raising community awareness around Paddington’s history. By championing preservation alongside progress, the Paddington Society shifted residents’ relationship with the suburb. 

While the protections created additional hurdles for new construction, Paddington’s historical fabric remained intact. And the power of these urban activists inspired residents in other parts of Australia to voice their opinions regarding local issues. 

Sixty years on, the Paddington Society is still going strong. It turns out, despite heritage protections, Paddington doesn’t stay saved. President Esther Hayter believes the next chapter of challenges is starting to unfold.

“We are beginning a new fight,” she says. “The current government, with the best intention of providing more affordable housing close to urban centres, has created a Pandora’s box with developers trying to impose a one-size-fits-all solution to totally disparate suburbs.”

Her concerns are around new NSW planning laws that could allow developers to buy up amalgamated sites around the suburb and build eight-story structures. Sometimes it’s the threats that you don’t see coming that can do the most damage. 

“Everybody's very focused on the cycleway, which is an important issue, but there are also others,” Hayter says. “This is why we get involved in Edgecliff, Darling Point and Woollahra because any developments along the perimeters impact on us.”

A retired architect, Hayter moved to Paddington with her English husband and two children in the late-1970s. The couple ran a two-person practice specialising in museum and exhibition design and, though they weren’t members of the society, they would often write to council about developments that concerned them. 

It wasn’t until 2010 that Hayter officially joined the Paddington Society, following the death of her husband. It has been the kind of invisible, behind-the-scenes work that, according to Hayter, has accumulated “acres of files” and a passion for protecting her local community. 

“I'm working harder for no money than when I was in full-time employment,” she laughs. “You have to put your heart and soul into protecting your local government area.”

While the group has been instrumental in shaping policies around zoning laws and urban planning, the mission of the Paddington Society is not just about saving buildings. Since its beginnings, it has advocated for the suburb’s diverse community, with its most recent efforts focused on protecting the Selwyn St boarding houses, to try to ensure its vulnerable residents were not left homeless, due to rent increases or demolition.

This small team of local guardians has fought more than their fair share of public battles. And with the launch of a new website coinciding with the group’s 60th anniversary, the Paddington Society is future-proofing its mission by attracting a new generation of members. 

“There was a time when our committee was mostly grey haired,” Hayter says. “But in recent years, we've got a whole lot of new blood, which is just fantastic.”

Her advice to the present cohort of Paddington residents is to stay engaged with local affairs and to carry forward the legacy of Paddington for decades to come. 

“Become involved in your suburb. Pay attention to what is proposed and write to council if you’re concerned. The fight is not over,” Hayter says.

paddingtonsociety.org.au