A long-forgotten piece of Bay City Rollers history resurfaced recently when a hand-stitched scarf made by Les McKeown in 1973 was discovered inside an old prop trunk. The find, described by those present as “quiet but emotional,” has quickly captured the attention of fans who recognize the scarf not as merchandise or memorabilia, but as something intensely personal from the early years of the band.
The trunk itself had been untouched for decades. It sat in a storage space containing unused stage items, spare cables, and costume pieces from various tours. When the lid was finally lifted, the scarf was found folded beneath a stack of faded fabric swatches. At first glance, it looked ordinary — a simple wool scarf, slightly rough in texture and dulled with age. But as soon as it was unfolded, the intricate hand-stitched pattern became visible.
According to the person who discovered it, the stitching was uneven in places, giving away the fact that it was handmade, not manufactured. The pattern formed repeating geometric shapes, joined by small flourishes at the edges. Some of the thread had loosened over time, but the overall design remained intact. A small tag sewn inside bore Les’s initials, stitched in a younger, almost hesitant style.
“It looked like something he made for himself, not for the stage,” the finder said. “There was something intimate about it — the kind of object someone creates before they know anyone will ever care.”
The scarf appears to predate the band’s rise to international fame, likely crafted during a period when Les was experimenting with stage outfits and personal accessories. What struck fans most was how the stitching reflected a certain youthful earnestness — not the polished image associated with later years, but the raw creativity of someone still discovering his artistic voice.
Once photos of the scarf were shared privately among collectors and longtime followers of the band, reactions quickly spread. Fans commented on the emotional weight of seeing something Les made with his own hands, in an era when fame had not yet shaped his world. Many remarked that the uneven stitching made it feel more “real” than traditional memorabilia.
One longtime fan said, “You can tell it wasn’t made for show. It’s personal. It holds a part of him that wasn’t always visible.”
Another detail that drew attention was the color scheme: deep navy, soft gray, and a stripe of muted red. These colors echoed early Bay City Rollers palettes but carried a quieter tone, almost as if it was meant for private use rather than performance.
The rediscovery has prompted renewed interest in smaller, handmade artifacts from musicians — items that reveal their personality beyond the spotlight. For many fans, the scarf symbolizes a side of Les that interviews and stage footage never fully captured: the private creator, the young man tinkering with fabric and thread, unaware that the world would one day cling to every detail of his life.
The scarf is now being documented and preserved, but there are no plans yet for public display. Those connected to the discovery say they want to handle it carefully and respectfully, acknowledging that it wasn’t made with an audience in mind.
“It wasn’t meant to be iconic,” one person noted. “But sometimes the things never meant for the public become the most meaningful.”