Terry De Havilland: Oh! to De Havalottamoney (andsmallerfeet…)

One day. One day I shall have lots of money to spend on sparkly Terry De Havilland platform shoes wot fit my feet. Til then, I can but drool at other people’s goodies… Click the images for the eBay auctions and bid away dear readers, let me live vicariously through your feet….


Quorums for Quorums’ Sake

Scanned in a while ago, never got around to posting. I’m now posting them because I’m strangely uninspired for blog posts this week and need to catch up reading everyone else’s. I’m hoping that will change soon….til then, there’s always Ossies. And Pollocks. The floral frock is a Pollock.

Petticoat Magazine, September 1969, Clothes for Clothes’ Sake!


The Cold Shoulder

Where’s all my one-shoulder-loving-ladies? I’m afraid I couldn’t resist the temptation to give Roxy a bit of a Farrah-flick, in memoriam, when I put this super groovy striped Lee Bender top on her.

It’s quite a transitional period piece really. It can move quite happily from glam rock to disco with a mere change of trousers and shoes, and music of course. Now available over at Vintage-a-Peel for a foot-stompingly reasonable £38. Just click the image to view.


Biba O’Riley!

Sorry, little Who-related joke for my groupie girls there. There are only so many times you can put ‘new website listings’ in the title without wanting to slit your own throat. And I have TWO new Bibas up for sale. Ooh la la.

The pink one above, I found in this advert. How fabulous is that? And the black one, well that’s just devastatingly sexy. Simple as that.

There are loads of new listings over at Vintage-a-Peel (both dresses and separates), and even a couple of sneaky new listings over on eBay. Please go take a look, I shall be ‘featuring’ more items individually on the blog over the next few days rather than my usual all-in-one-blog-post style.


Chain Reaction

The lovely Smashingbird commented on my Diana Rigg birthday post that she’d love to see more pictures of the amazing chain strap black dress. Well, I probably have far too many shots of that dress, and it’s certainly one of my favourites, so I figured a blog post about one dress wasn’t too ridiculous. Not that I’m concerned about ridicule of course, I have done several posts about Doctor Who companions after all.

It also helps that the dress was worn for the Assassination Bureau press junket, and therefore there are a few shots of the dress with Olly Reed wrapped around it. I think all good dresses should come with a complimentary Oliver Reed.

If anyone ever finds out who made this dress, I would be eternally grateful. You’d think I would know, wouldn’t you? Sigh…

Yeah, yeah, I know you can’t see the dress here. But it’s there. It’s just behind Olly.


Clearance sale or OCD perfectionism? You decide…

Right lovely vintage people out there. I’m getting incredibly frustrated by the [now] three different mannequins I’ve ended up with on the website. I loved Odette, we all loved Odette, but Roxy is here to stay for now and I don’t necessarily have the energy to re-photograph everything on her. So I’m having something of a clearance sale over on eBay right now. Lots of website bits at reduced prices, so if there’s anything you’ve been keeping an eye on – then scoot on over there now and bid on it!!

Perhaps I’m a bit bonkers to be doing this, I’m really not a ‘sale’ kind of person, but I would much rather be out looking for exciting new stock than having to rephotograph existing listings. And I’m sure you would rather that as well. Take advantage while you can!

Lots of love,

Miss Peelpants xx


How could I forget? Happy Birthday Diana Rigg!

Happy 71st birthday to The Dame, Diana Rigg that is. I may not really do the DDR-fangirl-thing much any more (the website became exhausting and therefore embarrassing) but she’s still an icon to me and was certainly a huge influence on the person I am now, the entire website and this blog. Since my computer has a ridiculous amount of Diana pics on it, and there were a fair few I never got around to putting on the [now defunct] site, here are a few “rarities”.


Hold Back The Rain (and, indeed, they did)

In summary:-

Duran Duran have still got ‘it’.

I do not like N.E.R.D. Or their fans.

Duran Duran can control the weather with their music. Hold Back The Rain actually did the trick both times. They are Gods.

When you are being nearly crushed to death, keeping your shoes on becomes disproportionately important.

If you stand in the middle of a swelling crowd of festival-type people whilst wearing a Sixties dress and shout at them, in a posh accent, for being stupid then people will look at you a bit funny. It’s inevitable.

Nick Rhodes owes me the amazing vintage Adam Ant badge I lost in the mêlée. It’s his fault we were in a crowd of idiots. He said this was a festival which ladies could wear nice shoes to, because it was in a park. Real world, meet Nick. Nick, meet the real world.

"Oh, so THAT'S the real world over yonder is it? Oh dear..."


Contrary to some reviews, a 50-year-old man shouting ‘freebase’ and gyrating on stage is not sad…it’s delightful and endearing. Well, when it’s Simon Le Bon anyway.

My girls may have been getting more excited about Simon’s top hat [and, later on, tuxedo] and Nick’s cravat and cane, but John Taylor is an expert at doing a Miss Peelpants-orientated strip tease. Sharp suit. Jacket off, leaving white shirt and waistcoat. Then waistcoat off, leaving slightly crumpled white shirt and braces. Top marks!


Well, I’m now back from my Duran ‘Odyssey’ and I’m almost at a loss to process the weird old week I’ve had. I’ve been all the way up to Edinburgh and back, have seen the boys twice in one week (both times from very near the front by sheer luck and steely determination respectively), have walked into a service station with rollers in my hair, have sat eating pineapple wedges and glace cherries from behind the bar of the Hard Rock Cafe because they were no longer serving food (many thanks to the kindly bar staff), have cursed Nick Rhodes quite a lot (a man like that should understand that open air gigs and nice hair, make-up and clothes DO NOT MIX), nearly drowned attempting to get to Edinburgh Castle in torrential rain, nearly died in an N.E.R.D crowd whilst waiting for the Duran set, have laughed so hard I started bawling (still can’t work out if it was because it was all so funny or utterly horrifying)…oh and I even ate a Pot Noodle. Which is possibly the most alarming aspect to the entire week.

So now I can get back to work, I’m sure you’ll all be pleased to hear!


Only in Chelsea, in the Sixties…

…could you have had a job agency who will find a job appropriate to your star sign. I wondered if it was a joke. Perhaps it was? I like to think I’d fit seamlessly into society if I ever fell through a wormhole in time and found myself in 1969, so I almost get annoyed with myself for finding such things so very amusing and bizarre. Perhaps I would have found them entertaining back then? I hope so…like the idea of sanitary towels aiding my search for a millionaire husband*?

*I was once accused of being a ‘gold digger’ by a former aquaintance of mine. It still perplexes me to this day. She can’t have been basing it on reality, if she’d ever met any of my boyfriends she’d know that. Perhaps she saw a packet of Dr Whites in my handbag?


Pussy Galore

Well I never. All these years I’ve been moaning that I knew so very little about the Pussy Galore boutique, aside from the brief paragraph the V&A managed to unearth when they displayed my frock. Yet right under my nose, in a clearly somewhat under read copy of Petticoat magazine, was this little gem. Well, now I know why they didn’t last very long. I’m not sure I’d want to buy frocks from a girl in her underwear. I don’t care what they may say about rocketing lingerie sales, pah!

Pussy Galore was opened by Carnaby Street entrepreneur Henry Moss in 1969, when this clipping dates from.

I realise this may not be terribly exciting for anyone else, but at least if I blog about it I’m unlikely to forget I have it. Which is something I often manage to do.

My solitary[ish] Pussy Galore piece is the tablecloth mini, but I also have a pair of purple suede hotpants (Made, apparently, for someone with a child-size bottom. Size 38 my….errr….arse!) which had this hang tag on them. I’m sure they must be Pussy Galore, but there isn’t a fabulous huge satin label inside. Just the hang tag. Dyed by the purple suede over the years. Isn’t it groovy?


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