The other day, I blog about my new sparkly flower printed tights from H&M. I haven’t even had a chance to wear them out yet and bloody Anna Friel gets there first. You’d better be glad I REALLY like you Anna, otherwise I’d be REALLY mad with you. AND her shoes look like suede versions of my trusty stalwart patent Office darlings. Darnit. Now everyone’s going to think I’m trying to copy her. *sniffle*
This is why I generally try to buy vintage, I’d almost forgotten how irritating this kind of thing can be.
Apparently I am. I keep wandering off and buying frivolous knickers on my breaks. Well, two days running anyway….someone seriously needs to distract me tomorrow, otherwise all the good I’ve been doing saving money lately will have been for nothing.
I’m pretty stridently anti- matchy-matchy underwear. I have a few matching sets, mainly for lounging purposes – as with the adorable lady from Nova magazine (above), but there’s something a smidge Stepford Wife about only EVER wearing matching underwear (no offence to anyone who does…although I suspect that if you’re that way inclined, you’ll only take offence at the notion that someone could actually dare to wear non-matching smalls!). I don’t like to be told what to wear, in any circumstance, and matching sets are inherently bossy and dictatorial. “Wear me together or risk being run over by a bus and THEN you’ll be sorry you didn’t match up. Ha!”. Frankly, I’ll have more things to be worrying about than the quality or symmetry of my underwear.
Besides, knickers can often be more frivolously decorated than bras (unless you wear very tight-fitting trousers, and I happen to think VPL is rather cute – so there!) and can make more of a statement. That and the fact that bras are such a bugger to get right. So why deprive yourself of gorgeous pants, if you don’t have the bra?
No, a cheap and frill-ing way to cheer yourself up is in the pants-department. And remember, the bigger the pants – the more room for more frills and bows and suchlike…. Down with thongs! Errr. You know what I mean….
(the otherwise still-a-bit-evil Topshop seem to be hitting the spot with knickerbocker glories at the moment…Curses!)
Wandering around H&M on Boxing Day [Why on earth anyone else goes shopping on Boxing Day is beyond me. I was working two shows that day and had time to kill between them. No casual shopper has any excuse for being anywhere other than under a pile of chocolate wrappers, awesome presents and preferably a big fluffy duvet on Boxing Day. It's an insult to people who would dearly love to be doing all those things, but can't. Insanity.] I caught sight of yet another yawn-tastic Ossie rip-off. If you don’t believe me, go in there and see one up-close; it’s a duplicate, right down to the large expanse of flesh in the back, ‘mock’-crepe and wrap cut.
Somehow it managed to annoy me more than many have lately. Perhaps it’s because it’s Jimmy Choo for H&M. It’s bad enough for a dress designer to ‘take inspiration from’ another designer, but when you’re peddling frocks on the name of a shoe designer, then copying Ossie’s luscious ‘Cuddly’ dress is just an audaciously tacky thing to do (not to mention an astonishing breach of creative copyright).
Shame on you H&M. Shame on you Jimmy Choo (or Tamara Mellon or whoever it is behind this shambles). Saying that -elsewhere in store- I did buy a lovely pair of sparkly black lace tights with red flowers printed on them, so I’ve slightly [and grudgingly] forgiven H&M.
[Blogging really will be this sparse and sporadic until all Nuts have been cracked, but I'm still here...just about! Hope you all had a lovely Christmas.]
…back when I didn’t spend most of the festive season running around a theatre and having no time to even buy presents successfully, let alone blog on a regular basis!
Ahhhh…..patiently waiting for my next pressie, wearing my absolute favourite red velvet Christmas frock. Good job I have a sense of humour about the cigarette in the background; my Nana’s Benson & Hedges was certainly an essential ingredient of the Christmas pudding every year!
Merry Christmas to all you fabulous blog readers and other bloggers! I’m so sorry for my neglect of late, I will be back in the New Year (hopefully with a new website too!).
I was lucky enough to be able to attend ‘In conversation with Iain R. Webb’ at the Fashion and Textile Museum last week, in my inadvertent and faintly ridiculous new capacity as fashion book groupie. Iain is the kind of person who completely awes me into silence with his knowledge and experience, so it was nice to be able to just take a seat and listen to him for an hour or so – without feeling like a chump for being awed into silence.
If you don’t already have a copy of Foale and Tuffin, then why on earth not? Put it on your Christmas list! Buy yourself one as a treat! Hunt me down and steal my copy! I’ll whack you over the head with my copy of Arthur Marwick’s The Sixties (a nice, hefty tome which would be perfect for book-stealing blog-readers) but I’ll forgive you eventually.
When I first heard they were actually planning to do a book on those fabulous ladies, AND an exhibition, I nearly squealed in delight. I may actually have done so, but I was in a room with John Bates so there’s not a lot I can remember from that night (if you want to put me on mute, lock me in a room with John Bates and Iain R. Webb and you won’t hear a squeak out of me).
The book doesn’t disappoint. As I have heard many people saying, not least those behind the project, the most appealing thing about it is that it isn’t a simple biography of two people. It’s like a window into their friendship coupled with a luxury chocolate box selection of Important People who, cumulatively, give a valuable insight into a most intriguing and endlessly inspiring period in history.
You often come away from fashion books with a strong sense of one person’s life. One person’s view of a cultural revolution. Often you can barely find mention of other designers within its pages; throwaway references to models, movers and shakers and maybe the odd two line quote. But here, in Foale and Tuffin, you have small essays created from interviews with the likes of Jean Shrimpton, Jenny Boyd, James Wedge, Marit Allen, Molly Parkin….oh I can’t even prioritize them, they’re all so important. It’s like a proper documentary in book form. In fact, I’d be a very happy bunny if they had been able to produce this as a ‘Beyond Biba’ style film.
In between the photos and essays, there are excerpts from Webb’s interviews with the gals. Much like the Ossie Clark and John Bates books before it, you’ll probably flick through it a few times just to ogle the amazing photos and barely take in any of the detail. But eventually you’ll find a window of time, when you can snuggle down and ‘listen’ to Marion and Sally nattering away. I’ve had the good fortune to have witnessed this a couple of times in person (although only tiny vignettes of F&T-ness, really) and have heard even more by proxy, so I’m delighted that an almighty natter with the girls has been recorded for posterity.
Why can’t more books be like this?
I’m not turning my back on you all. The website has gone on hiatus for a wee while; it’s in desperate need of revamping and I’m in desperate need of a break. It has been a bit of a stressful time for me lately, not least with moving house, and having lost my beloved camera to an unsteady-tripod-related-incident.
I will still be putting things on the Bay of E over the next month or so, but I decided the website was best left for a bit while I beaver away on a slightly new look and (far more importantly) lots of lovely new listings. Any suggestions on any features you might like me to try and implement on the website are most welcome as well.
I might offer the odd thing in the blog, here and there, if I am able to – so do keep an eye out. And of course I will be maintaining the blog as best I can. There is no hiatus for naff Seventies images, gorgeous magazine scans and picture spams of fashion icons and hot vintage dudes. No way.
Well for a start, you might not want to be wearing sexy Varon dresses (see below) around the office letch. It makes me awfully glad I don’t have to deal with any office letches any more, but also a bit sad that I don’t have an office party to wear a weird vintage frock to; there’s something quite hilariously naff about the whole concept of such events and I think it would deserve a hilariously naff dress.
The article itself is a rather dull look at how alcohol affects you and how to survive a hangover (and no, they don’t have the answer) so I won’t bother to type it up, but I loved the accompanying photos and thought they deserved a post….
Mirror Magazine (December 20th 1969)
(can’t wait to see the knitwear, although I might just hold out for an original….)