Clever Confidential Ep. 6: The Brilliant Life and Tragic Death of Florence Broadhurst

Clever Confidential is Clever’s offshoot series where we dig into the lesser told stories of the darker side of design; the shadowy, sometimes sordid, tales hiding under a glossy top coat of respectable legacy.

In this episode we peel back the glittering façade of one of Australia's greatest design icons, Florence Broadhurst—a woman whose legendary creative genius was rivaled only by the mystery surrounding her violent demise. This journey takes us from the sunlit streets of Sydney’s Paddington neighborhood to the dark corners of a crime scene that defies easy explanation.

Whether you’re a design enthusiast or a true crime aficionado, prepare to be captivated by a story of ambition, reinvention, and an unsolved mystery that challenges everything we think we know about a true creative legend.

• Read the Transcript

  Amy Devers:

  Before we get started, a quick warning: This episode includes descriptions of violence and murder. Listener discretion is advised. 

  To the casual observer, it was just another spring afternoon in the Sydney suburb of Paddington. People lazily strolled the Victorian-lined Oxford Street, taking in the famous sites of what was to become Australia’s “Gay Golden Mile”, while others slowly sipped coffee, ate lunch, people watched, and window shopped. But in Florence Broadhurst’s studio—a creative oasis a few short blocks away—Saturday, October 15th, 1977 was anything but ordinary.

  The air hung heavy and humid, the streets unusually still. Inside the studio - a nondescript warehouse located on Roylston Street - the 78 year old Broadhurst was quietly at work, surrounded by rolls of her vibrant wallpaper—patterns that spoke of elegance, opulence, and her extraordinary flair that had made her world famous. 

  But the stillness that pervaded the neighborhood, and the tranquility that engulfed the studio that Saturday - wouldn’t last.

  By that evening, Broadhurst was dead. It was obviously a homicide, though clues were scarce. Was this a random murder? A robbery gone wrong? Or was Florence silenced for reasons hidden in the shadows of her vibrant, larger-than-life existence?

  I'm Amy Devers, And this is Clever Confidential, where we dig into the lesser told stories of the darker side of design. The shadowy, sometimes sordid tales hiding under a glossy top coat of respectable legacy.

  This is Episode 6, The Brilliant Life and Tragic Death of Florence Broadhurst. With me today, as always, is writer and editor Andrew Wagner. Together, we're taking you down under to explore the life and still unsolved murder of Florence Broadhurst—a woman whose dazzling creativity and enigmatic life remain etched into the world of design, even as the circumstances of her death continue to leave Australia…and the world…haunted.

  To understand how we got here, we need to take a step back. Florence Broadhurst’s life was extraordinary—a story of reinvention, resilience, and yes, plenty of secrets and barely controlled chaos.

  Andrew Wagner:

  Here’s the thing about Florence: She wasn’t just one person. She was many. And she had an almost theatrical ability to reinvent herself.

  Born Florence Maud Broadhurst in 1899, on Mungy Station—a remote cattle farm in Queensland, Australia, her beginnings were anything but glamorous. But Florence never let that define her. In fact, she rarely even mentioned it.

  By 1923, at the age of 24, Florence had transformed herself into a character known as “Miss Bobby”—a vivacious vaudeville performer touring Southeast Asia with a musical troupe. In 1926 she landed in Shanghai, a city considered “the Paris of the East.” There she shifted her focus to more entrepreneurial pursuits, opening what she called the “Broadhurst Academy,” presenting herself as a refined teacher of etiquette and culture. 

  Now, here’s where things get a little murky. While the academy sounded impressive the details were at best, pretty thin. 

  Questions about the legitimacy of the Broadhurst Academy have been raised by nearly every biographer, historian, and researcher who has taken on the rather tall task of exploring Florence’s life, most notably, Helen O’Neill, who wrote the definitive biography "Florence Broadhurst: Her Secret & Extraordinary Lives.” 

  In her book, O’Neill enthusiastically dives into this period of Florence's life, highlighting the lack of concrete evidence regarding the academy's precise activities. While Florence presented the academy as a prestigious finishing school teaching art, fashion, and etiquette to wealthy young women, records of its operations are sparse, leading some to speculate whether it was as successful—or even as formal—as she claimed. 

  Given Florence's talent for embellishment, many historians, including writer and researcher Peter Vincent, have viewed her Shanghai chapter with skepticism, suggesting the Broadhurst Academy may have been more about cultivating an image than running a thriving institution. Vincent notes in his article, “The Forgotten Journey of Florence Broadhurst”, that the bon vivant had developed a penchant for self-mythologizing—creating larger-than-life narratives that were oftentimes difficult to verify. Most likely by design. 

  This ambiguity contributes to the perception that her time in Shanghai, much like other parts of Florence’s life, was a mix of ambition, performance, and a touch of smoke and mirrors. 

  In 1929 Florence left Shanghai amidst a brewing revolution and any questions about the “Broadhurst Academy” were quickly forgotten. She went back home to Queensland where she spent time with her family, singing and dancing with a band in her father’s pub for some extra cash. 

  One night things got a little wild and Florence and some friends rolled their car after too much time in the pub. Florence escaped but wound up with a fractured skull, effectively putting an end to her performing career. 

  But never one to let ANYTHING get her down, Florence healed up and headed out to explore the world, landing in London, where her activities were as colorful and theatrical as the rest of her life. 

  She initially presented herself as an accomplished opera singer under the stage name Bobby Broadhurst. While she did do some singing, there are, of course, doubts about the extent of her success. I mean, sure, she sang, but was she the star she claimed to be? Evidence suggests she might’ve embellished those accolades just a bit. 

  Amy Devers: 

  If her early days in London were professionally rocky, her personal life was flourishing. She quickly fell in love with stockbroker Percy Kann and in June of 1929 they got married. 

  By the early 1930s, with the help of Percy, she transitioned into the world of fashion and design, co-founding Pellier Ltd, Robes & Modes in Mayfair, London, where she served as a designer and dress consultant. The company specialized in haute couture and elegant garments, solidifying her persona as a glamorous figure in English society.

  Though the business appears to have done well, it didn’t do Florence and Percy’s marriage any favors. By the late 1930s the couple had split, officially divorcing in the early 1940s. 

  Florence, however, quickly picked up the pieces and began to contribute to the World War II efforts by joining the Australian Women's Voluntary Services, offering hospitality to Australian soldiers stationed in Britain. 

  After the war, Florence married her second husband, Leonard Lloyd Lewis, giving birth to her only child, Robert shortly thereafter. In 1946 the young family settled for a period in Sussex, where Florence changed professional directions again, obtaining fishing and passenger boat licenses so she could offer fishing excursions and other entertainment adventures to tourists and locals alike—another testament to her unpredictable and adaptable life. 

  And in 1949, she returned to Australia with her son and Lewis, ready to embark on her next chapter.

  Florence’s years in England reflected both her ambitions and her skill at reinventing herself to match the opportunities around her, whether in music, fashion, fishing, or wartime service.

  And really that’s what Florence did best—she created her own narrative. Each reinvention was bigger and bolder than the last, and frankly, it worked. It opened doors that may have otherwise stayed shut for a woman from humble beginnings. But it also meant Florence carried some pretty big secrets—secrets that would later become part of the mystery surrounding her.

  Andrew Wagner: 

  By the time she returned to Australia, Florence was ready for her greatest act yet. 

  In 1959, after nearly a decade running a parking garage with her husband — with a quick foray into landscape painting thrown in for good measure — she declared herself an artist and designer, and at 60 years old, launched Australian Wallpapers, which soon morphed into Florence Broadhurst Wallpapers. If you needed any more proof of Florence’s immense skills as a career chameleon, look no further. 

  Now, of course, the beginnings of Florence Broadhurst Wallpapers was not without its twists and turns. As the story goes, Florence had gone down to a shed behind the parking garage where she had a young tenant who was late with his rent. When he opened the door, Florence noticed all these wallpaper designs he was working on and she was taken with them. As they went through the collection, Florence offered up her opinions about what would and what wouldn’t sell. After this meeting, she apparently talked him into creating the first series of designs for her soon to be company…which she started in the same shed behind the parking garage. 

  Her designs were like nothing people had seen before. They were bold, intricate, and full of life—just like Florence herself. She brought chinoiserie, geometrics, metallics, psychedelics, and extravagant florals — over 500 designs, though Florence liked to say it was over 1,000 — to walls across Australia and far beyond. 

  Amy Devers:

  Her studio in Paddington was a hive of creativity. Florence became the face of her brand—red hair, dramatic outfits, and an English accent that, let’s just say, was cultivated. She thrived in high society, charming some and alienating others. 

  But behind the glamour, there were cracks. Her business practices were, to put it mildly, controversial. Some of her designs were strikingly similar to existing patterns, raising eyebrows…and questions about plagiarism. 

  You see, while Broadhurst's designs were highly regarded for their boldness and innovation – they were also sometimes accused of being copies or heavily inspired by other designers. In particular, some of her wallpaper patterns resembled those of earlier designs from the Arts and Crafts and Art Deco movements. And, perhaps inspired by her time in Shanghai, she drew heavily from Chinese and Japanese motifs, which sparked debates about appropriation.

  It was also revealed that some of the wallpapers sold under her name were designed by others, yet, like those first designs, they were attributed solely to Broadhurst. There were reports that she worked with assistants and used their contributions without full acknowledgment, leading to claims of exploitation and ethical concerns regarding the ownership of the designs.

  And running such an intricate operation? It was EXPENSIVE. Keeping her studio afloat was a constant challenge. Broadhurst’s intricate and custom designs required labor-intensive processes and costly materials. The production of her vibrant, hand-printed wallpapers demanded significant resources. 

  And while her wallpapers gained international recognition, the business struggled to scale. The boutique nature of her designs meant that mass production was not feasible, limiting revenue growth.

  And let’s just say, Florence was not particularly adept at financial management. Her grandiose spending and focus on the artistic side of the business often overshadowed practical concerns like budgeting and maintaining cash flow.

  Additionally, during the 1970s, wallpaper began to lose popularity as interior design trends shifted towards minimalism and paint. This decline in demand for high-end wallpaper significantly affected the business. And…to complicate things further, Florence was known to spend excessively on personal luxuries which also affected the bottom line. 

  On top of that, Florence wasn’t easy to work for. She was a demanding perfectionist, and sometimes very difficult. To some, her strong personality was inspiring; to others, it was grating. This cornucopia of strained relationships added another layer of complexity to her life --and an even greater challenge to the investigation of her death.

  Andrew Wagner:

  Which brings us back to that October day in 1977. Florence’s death was brutal, violent, and shocking. It sent shockwaves through Sydney’s close-knit artistic community. She was 78 years old, a design icon who refused to slow down. 

  Her Paddington studio—her sanctuary—was where she spent hours creating the vivid patterns that defined her career. But in the blink of an eye, her sanctuary became a crime scene. 

  Investigators found her lifeless body lying in a pool of blood, wedged behind a bathroom door in the studio, her head pushed deeply into the toilet bowl. She  had been savagely beaten, her skull fractured with what was suspected to have been a blunt instrument—possibly a lamp, an iron pipe or a piece of wood of some sort. 

  The studio bore signs of a violent struggle. Her handbag and several personal items, including seven rings she always wore, were missing, leading police to originally believe it was a robbery gone wrong.

  But whispers quickly spread, the crime scene simply didn’t add up. There were no signs of forced entry. There were two cups of tea out, indicating that not only might Florence have let the killer in but in all likelihood knew them. Knowing her strong, take-no-nonsense personality, you have to wonder: Did her defiance provoke the attack? Or was there something more calculated at play?

  Florence led a high-profile life, complicated by a slew of “inconsistencies.” That, plus a bewildering crime scene with no clear motive, has given rise to a host of theories… let’s unpack these a little. 

  Amy Devers: 

  The first theory is the botched robbery theory. It’s perhaps the most straightforward. Some have speculated that the killer was attempting to rob her studio and that the attack occurred when she either interrupted the intruder or resisted. However, this theory has been complicated by the fact that there was no signs of forced entry, and no significant evidence of a robbery, only a few personal items were missing, which could’ve been taken as way to make it look like a burglary. I guess it’s possible the door to her studio was unlocked, but if it was just a random burglar -  then why the horrific violence and posing of the body? Which begs the question: was this truly random, or something more targeted?

  Andrew Wagner: 

  Another popular theory revolves around the financial difficulties of Florence’s wallpaper business. While her designs were well-regarded, her business practices were often questionable, and there were rumors of cash flow problems and financial mismanagement. Some have speculated that her murder could have been related to financial strain, possibly involving someone connected to her business. It is believed that she was dealing with debt on a number of fronts, and some have suggested that someone close to her—perhaps a business associate or employee—might have taken retribution over some financial misgivings. And it’s possible she unknowingly got mixed up with dangerous people, possibly even organized crime.

  Amy Devers: 

  In a similar vein, many have pointed to rivalries within the design industry or among those who worked with her. Florence was known to be very difficult to work with, and she had a strong personality that often led to conflict with collaborators. Her obsession with control and the fact that she sometimes took credit for others' work may have created resentment. Some speculate that a former employee or business partner might have had a grudge, which could have escalated to violence. However, no clear suspect has ever been identified. So this theory is a bit unsatisfying.

  Andrew Wagner: 

  And finally, one of the most intriguing theories is that serial killer John Wayne Glover, an Australian man convicted of multiple murders, may have been responsible. 

  Glover was called the "Granny Killer" because of the six elderly victims he was convicted of killing, all between the ages of 60 and 93. All beaten over the head. All posed after death. Glover committed these crimes over the span of 14 months, from 1989 and into 1990, when he was finally arrested and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. 

  While in prison, Glover toyed with detectives, coyly signaling to them that his true number of victims was 9 — two on the Central Coast of Australia and…one more. And though Florence’s murder was in 1977, more than a decade before the crimes Glover was finally convicted of, the evidence piling up around his possible connection to her death were too hard to ignore. As any detective will tell you, there are no coincidences. 

  Glover consistently denied involvement in Florence’s murder, claiming he didn’t even know who she was, let alone know her personally. And due to this Glover was initially thought to have nothing to do with this case. Afterall, everyone believed (and still believes) that Florence must have known her killer. Remember, there was no forced entry into the studio. And what about those two cups on the table down the hall from where her body was discovered, indicating that Florence even had tea with her murderer? 

  So, Glover was crossed off the list…until, that is,  it was discovered that he did in fact know Florence. 

  Broadhurst biographer Helen O’neill explains on the Australian podcast "ABC Rewind”, that Florence and Glover met at a wedding of one of Broadhurst’s employees. Florence designed the wedding dress and happily attended the wedding. Amongst the other guests was none other than John Wayne Glover, the ½ brother of the groom’s mother. According to O’neill, Glover and Florence were drawn to each other like magnets, talking throughout the evening. 

  When Glover was reminded of this connection he simply said, “oh right, yes, I guess I did know her.” Not only did he know her from the wedding but apparently he had been to Broadhurst’s studio where he purchased curtains that hung in his home. Again, upon being reminded of this fact Glover said, “Ahhhh, right. I guess that’s correct.” 

  Still, there has been no definitive evidence connecting Glover to Florence’s murder, no DNA was collected, no hair samples and therefore  he has not been formally linked to the crime by police. However, investigators have not ruled out the possibility. And, as Mark Whitaker, author of Granny Killer: The Story of John Glover, points out on the ABC Rewind podcast, what are the chances that Florence, an elderly woman who was beaten to death with her body left posed, just happened to know a serial killer who beat his victims to death and posed their bodies? 

  Glover committed suicide in 2005 without ever confessing to Florence’s murder. Still, many believe his involvement may be the answer to this ongoing quandary. 

  Andrew Wagner: 

  One of the most frustrating aspects of the case is the lack of clear evidence due to what many consider an amazingly shoddy crime scene investigation. With so little to go on, so many theories continue to linger. Despite numerous investigations and the arrest of several suspects over the years, no one has ever been charged in connection with her death and Florence's murder remains one of the most enduring mysteries in Australian history. 

  The truth? We may never know. And that’s what makes her story so haunting.

  Amy Devers: 

  Despite Florence’s tragic death — and amidst the continuing controversy surrounding it — there’s still a silver lining: Florence Broadhurst’s work didn’t disappear. After her murder, her designs could’ve easily been forgotten, but thanks to dedicated fans and design enthusiasts, her patterns have been rediscovered and celebrated throughout the world.

  Today, her wallpapers are everywhere—from fashion collections to interior spaces. They’re a testament to her creativity, boldness, and determination to leave a mark on the world.

  Florence once said she wanted her designs to bring joy and beauty to people’s lives—and in that, she most definitely succeeded. But her life was so much more than her work. It was a masterpiece of reinvention, resilience, and ambition.

  Her death remains a mystery, but her legacy endures, reminding us we can, if we really put our minds and bodies to it, live boldly, beautifully, and unapologetically no matter our circumstances. 

  Thanks for listening to Clever Confidential. To see images of Florence Broadhurst, her wildly beautiful designs and more, head to cleverpodcast.com. 

  While you’re there, you can listen to the first 5 episodes of Clever Confidential. If you like Clever Confidential and want to hear more… Please support us by sharing this episode with your friends and leaving us a 5 star rating or a kind review. Sign up for our substack newsletter to get notified of new episodes, and consider pledging a paid subscription to support Clever. 

  We also love hearing from you on Instagram and LinkedIn. You can find us @CleverPodcast. If you haven’t already, please subscribe to Clever on Apple podcasts, Spotify or wherever you are listening right now, to make sure new episodes turn up in your feed. 

  Our huge to thanks to Mark Zurawinski for editing and sound design, and to Ilana Nevins for production assistance. Our theme music is “Astronomy” by Thin White Rope from their album “In a Spanish Cave” courtesy of Frontier Records. “Poor Florence Broadhurst” was written and performed by Rob Snarski and his so-called Friends from the album “Searching For The Heart Of It All”.

  We used many references while researching this story, we especially recommend: Helen O’neill’s book: “Florence Broadhurst: Her Secret & Extraordinary Lives.” The Australian Broadcast Corporation’s “ABC Rewind” podcast, in particular the episodes “Florence: A Life Papered Over” and “Florence: A Murder Still Unsolved.”  

  Clever Confidential is produced by Devers Endeavors,.. be sure to check out our other show, Clever, for revelatory conversations with creative visionaries. 

Florence Broadhurst's Wallpaper Designs are legendary. We couldn't obtain the rights to publish any images of them - so please enjoy this google image search to get a sense of their majesty.

Florence Broadhurst painting, 1954. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

An inauspicious return to Mount Perry in 1927 landed Florence in the hospital with a fractured skull and in the Brisbane Telegraph police blotter: “Miss Broadhurst was driving a car, when she apparently lost control, and it hit a culvert. It is thought that she then stepped on the accelerator in mistake for the brake, with the result that the car jumped forward and turned over twice down the embankment.” Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Florence, second from left, at home in Mount Perry, Queensland, Australia, where it all began…or was it? Florence’s origin story has always been a bit of a mystery. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

School children and teacher outside the school at Drummers Creek Queensland in 1908. Florence is the sixth from the right. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

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Credits: 

Hosts: Amy Devers & Andrew Wagner
Writing and research: Amy Devers & Andrew Wagner
Production: Devers Endeavors
Production Assistance: Ilana Nevins
Editing and Sound Design: Mark Zurawinski
Theme Music: “Astronomy” by Thin White Rope courtesy of Frontier Records
Logo design: Laura Jaramillo remixed by Graham Hauser

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