Mad for it: how Scotland fell in love with Don Draper-era furniture

I remember watching episode one of the show when it first aired on BBC Four on March 8, 2008. My first job after graduating from university was in advertising. In 1990 I was a junior account executive in a satellite office of one of the world's biggest agencies, McCann Erickson. My employer had everything. Prima-donna creatives constantly craving attention. A charismatic boss. And demanding clients who required staff to jump through flaming hoops on a daily basis. So when I caught the Mad Men trailer I was intrigued. How realistic would it be?

The only show about advertising I'd seen before was the BBC's Campaign, a six-parter broadcast in 1988. Campaign was a product of its era, looking at the lives and loves of shoulder-padded London yuppies at the height of Thatcher's Britain. Workmanlike but rather po-faced. Stylish it was not.

For those who've somehow missed the phenomenon, Mad Men is one of those seminal big-budget US series, along with The Wire, The West Wing and The Sopranos, that have redefined the way we watch TV drama. It's the story of the coolest anti-hero of them all, Don Draper, played by John Hamm, an unknown in 2008. He is the suave ad man with the perfect wife, actress January Jones, selling America the ultimate consumer dream from his ultra-chic Madison Avenue office. But beneath the manicured, Brylcreemed exterior lies a writhing mass of contradictions. Draper is both a brilliant, intuitive creative and serial womaniser, alcoholic and worse.

Beginning in 1960, the first few episodes of Mad Men were glacial in pace, big on establishing character, slow on action. What marked it out, and what made me stick with it, was how beautiful it all was. The machinations of agency politics were interesting and, in my experience, wholly authentic, the ensemble of characters engaging. But, most importantly, no expense had been spared in recreating the very best in 1960s aesthetic. Every set gleamed as brightly as the chrome on a Cadillac's tail-fins.

As someone who'd spent their whole life in houses at least a century old, retro interiors always had an unattainable glamour. They were so clean, comfortable and modern. In 2010 my partner and I bought a John Lawrence semi on Glasgow's southside, built in 1938. Compact, with much smaller rooms than the cavernous Edwardian flat we were leaving, not one single item of furniture we owned would fit, in terms of either size or style. Mad Men was just moving into its third season. The answer was obvious. Furnish the house only in items designed with 20th-century living in mind.

At the same time, thousands of others across the UK were having the same thought. John Brown, owner of Vintage Retro, a vast warehouse filled with mid-century furnishings on Glasgow's South Street, wanted to meet that demand. "I established the business seven years ago," he says, surrounded by teak and rosewood. "That pretty much coincides with the period of Mad Men. I've loved mid-century furniture since childhood and knew interest in it, based on its design and quality, was growing fast. I thought it was inevitable it would become mainstream, and I think the amount of reproduction retro furniture now available has proved me right - but it isn't as good quality as the original pieces."

Brown specialises in British design but also buys Danish. He was one of the first dealers I met when I began to buy items from the 1960s and 1970s. I've bought wardrobes, shelving, dining chairs and a drinks cabinet from him over the last four years. On the TV programme's impact he says: "It's been a wonderful showcase for mid-century modern. I've had customers describe a piece they saw in the series and ask me to source something similar for them, particularly armchairs - a lot of upholstered furniture goes to landfill because it doesn't meet current fire safety regulations - we replace the old fillings and reupholster in fire retardant fabrics, giving vintage pieces a second life."

Back in 2010. Brown recommended source books to me, told me which brands represented the best quality. He also directed me on how best to clean teak, giving me the confidence to find and restore my own gems. I started scouring charity shops and eBay for bargains. Soon I'd filled the house. And the garden hut. And the office. Initially with classic British brands of the era, such as Guy Rodgers, McIntosh of Kirkcaldy, Younger, Stag, Meredew and the mandatory G Plan, before upgrading to more exclusive Danish makers with exotically named designers like Finn Juhl, Grete Jalk, Peter Hvidt and Olga Molgaard. As my knowledge improved I started selling pieces in order to make space for new, better, more desirable items. I even flew to Copenhagen on a buying trip masquerading as a family holiday.

It was a similar path for John Colquhoun of Southside Retro, a mid-century furniture and homeware concession based in the Glasgow City Antiques Warehouse on Lancefield Street. It's a business he formally established a year ago, running it alongside the signage company he owns. We first met when I bought a G Plan room divider from him. His unit currently boasts, amongst others, Ladderax shelving, a coffee table by designer Arne Hovmand Olsen and an iconic space-saver dining table by Frem Rolje, sadly minus its distinctive three legged chairs. I bought and sold a full set last summer.

Like me, Colquhoun's a passionate enthusiast. "I had a house full of G Plan, Ercol and McIntosh. I had much more than I needed, and friends wanted to buy from me. My workshop was also full of it. Like most people, I grew up with this kind of furniture. The first piece I ever bought for myself was a G Plan astro coffee table, then I kept seeing mid-century stuff as I travelled around Scotland through work."

Surprisingly, Colquhoun has a brochure for contemporary furniture on display. It's the new G-Plan catalogue, a brand now owned by Glasgow-based Morris Furniture, itself a notable name in 1960s design. I pick it up and see everything is retro styled. "So many retailers are now selling Danish inspired ranges," says Colquhoun. "But the quality of the originals is much better. And the truth is it's invariably cheaper than buying new. I guess some people are put off when something is in 'vintage' condition, meaning it has a few scratches and maybe a couple of wine stains. But I love restoring the things I find; stripping them down and refinishing them. It's great fun. If someone's happy with a piece I sell and it's something they love and it goes to a good home, I'm happy - even if I don't make a fortune out of selling it."

Most dealers in 20th-century furniture guard their sources jealously. All Colquhoun will tell me is: 'I source stuff around Scotland and down south: other dealers, markets, auctions and secondhand shops. I always try and find a bargain. The buzz when you find something good is addictive." I know that feeling all too well. He adds: "When I get a Danish sideboard and I sell it, I often think, I shouldn't have sold that, but then I get another one, and I think, I like this one better'.

"I love watching Mad Men and trying to pick out all the furniture. It's probably the only reason I watch it. That's a bit sad, isn't it?" he laughs. "I think demand for mid-century furniture is increasing. Definitely the Mad Men effect. It's so versatile and such good quality compared to furniture made today."

In 2010, John Brown recommended another Mad Men entrepreneur to me, Elizabeth Beglin. I had bought a British Toothill daybed which needed reupholstering. Beglin runs J&E Upholstery from an industrial unit in the shadow of Celtic's stadium in Parkhead. She founded the business in 1983 with Jane Adams after their boss retired, and she now works day to day with Adams's grandson, Brian. They've built a thriving business mainly through word of mouth.

"Mid-century is now about 50% of our business," says Beglin. "We definitely saw a big increase following the advent of Mad Men. I don't have any favourite furniture brands or styles. We take the good with the bad," she adds, laughing. "I do like old-fashioned suites, they can be more challenging. But then every job is a challenge. Saying that, I love Ercol chairs. You really see your work in them. You're never doing the same job twice. There's such a wide variety of fabrics that our customers choose. The popular ones are Moon herringbone, Bute tweed, The Isle Mill tartans. Ross does lovely fabric as well. I really enjoy using local designers like Linn Bowman."

Beglin is confident the demand for mid-century furniture will continue long after the TV series has finished. "It's down to the quality of the framework, beautiful wood, great manufacturing," she says. "We have a very loyal customer base. Some place work with us several times a year, one returned after a gap of 15 years. We have another customer who's recovered the same suite three times." She also believes younger people are increasingly drawn to secondhand furniture. "It's changing taste."

Despite the imminent demise of Don Draper et al, John Brown agrees that things look bright for mid-century. "The demand for mid-century furniture is ever growing," he says. "And I think it will continue to do so for many years - it's the last generation of furniture that was mass produced yet also made to last, and it's so, so stylish!' This is borne out by the fact he tripled his display space when he added the warehouse next door a couple of years ago.

He points to a suite. "Just a glance tells you that it has been designed with attention to detail, in terms of construction, comfort and look. People are living in smaller spaces than their parents, and the scale of it is practical in a modern home."

Brown agrees that something about retro design is inexplicably compelling. "Many people visit the shop after admiring a piece friends have purchased. One of the most satisfying things for me is seeing a customer return to add to what they've already bought from us, and seeing how good their homes look with their chosen pieces."

Perhaps it's this addictive quality that will guarantee the Mad Men aesthetic endures long after its TV inspiration has faded from our screens.

Adrian Searle is a founding editor of Gutter literary magazine, the author of the Look Up series of books and Publisher at Freight Books