I gave you a taste of this lovely 1970 Honey shoot the other day; here’s the full thing. Can’t think why I never posted before – sometimes I just scan them in, lining them up for the future and then I forget. Because I’m a bit ditzy like that, sometimes. Enjoy!
It’s the girl who still looks slinky by the time it’s light again who gets taken home by the Prince. We’ve found eight party frocks which look amazingly ritzy into the dawn when other night-birds have wilted.
Looks like Lily Allen was out and about in a lovely black Ossie Clark dress last night. I suppose it might be a repro, or a Jimmy Choo for H&M, but I sincerely hope not. Googling around to try and find out, I see she’s planning to launch her own ‘vintage label’ at Goodwood this August. Hmm.
Sounds like a pretty awesome event; Sandie Shaw, The Damned etc. Though with that, Roxy at Lovebox and The Who at the Albert Hall….I am going to be stoney broke if I do everything I want to do this year.
The news that Roxy Music are headlining the Lovebox Festival in July (you mean I have to go through all that AGAIN?? I’m packing spiky clothes this time around…) reminds me of the dastardly Nick Rhodes. Senti pointed out to me that he’s probably been telling the BryanGod that Lovebox is a great idea. Honestly, BryanGod, you can’t wear Manolos and Antony Price dresses to a park in East London. You can barely keep your shoes ON, let alone clean and out of the mud. Sigh.
Rhodes is the ultimate diabolical mastermind. He’s usually tempered somewhat by old chum John Taylor, but occasionally is allowed to roam free with his wicked plans, and irritatingly beautiful hair and make-up. Curses.
Take Arcadia, for instance. It took a little longer for me to get into them, mainly due to lack of BassGod involvement, but I was able to access them successfully via The Flame – and now I rather love their So Red The Rose album project. (There’ll be a Special Edition CD and DVD set out later this year, I understand).
This is a truly brilliant video in many ways, and sadly was one of the project’s last works. So it wasn’t even vaguely successful. But what’s not to love? Haunted House scenario. Simon Le Bon being goofy. A brief, very sexy, cameo from Mr Taylor (the Mr Taylor who was returning, rather than silly, silly Andy) with his very bewitching eyebrow shenanigans.
By this point, Master Nicholas Bates has gone blond again. Which gives him an even creepier look than the black hair of the early Arcadia output. The black was just a bit Elizabeth Taylor, especially teamed with candy pink pout and gargantuan eyebrows.
There’s got to be some kind of link with that video and Lovebox. Nick Rhodes secretly enjoys watching people suffer whilst they desperately try to retain some semblance of glamour and propriety? Will he be watching Roxy from a rose-filled plastic bubble suspended ten feet above the crowd? We all know how much he adores them, so perhaps he’d like to come and stand in the crowd and see what he put us through last year?
Yes, I know this post is very silly. But I’m in that kind of mood today…
I’m not really a ‘bag’ person. I don’t get the whole dropping-a-few-hundred on something which most people can’t tell is designer or not thing. Everyday bags must be functional and a decent size, and of a go-with-anything aesthetic. My current day bag [once I wore out my smiley-flower-faces one, replaced it with a near identical version and then wore that one out as well] is a tan leather number. Nice and anonymous, whilst still being vintage and lovely.
Then I have this. This divine, silk clutch purse from [perhaps] the Thirties (although it’s not a deco style which might suggest even earlier). I have owned this bag for years, bought it from an antiques market, and yet have never had the chance to use it. It won’t fit more than a handful of things. Perhaps a lipstick, keys and a phone. Simply not practical.
But the other day was an Important Birthday and I decided it went perfectly with a slinky black damask Bus Stop dress and some green silk De Liso Debs. I still haven’t tapped into my exhibitionist side on the photo front, so there’s no ‘ensemble’ shot, but I thought I would share the gorgeousness that is my favourite bag.
Dang. I’ve done it again. Realised after listing something that I have an actual magazine feature of a piece. This time it’s the lush moss crepe Bus Stop dress, available over at Vintage-a-Peel, which I realised I had scanned in AGES ago from the December 1970 Honey magazine.
I know David Sylvian disowns Japan’s debut album, Adolescent Sex. I know early Eighties Sylvian is infinitely superior in a soulful, shy indie boy kind of way. I know the songs are more intricate and beautiful. But I just can’t shake it….
The pretty hair. The floppy cuffs. The flares. The girly make-up. The sexy, vaguely Imagination-esque sound they were peddling back then. It just does it for me, I’m afraid. It’s a bit grimy, a bit rock’n'roll, a bit glam rock and a lot sexy…
They even covered Barbra Streisand. And Sylvia is infinitely prettier too.
19 Magazine, April 1969
This might have to be a ramble, of sorts, around my constantly swirling brain on the subject of blogging and my own identity within the blogging ‘world’. Inevitably, because of mutual interests in the vintage arena and just a general love of clothes, I end up following modern-weighted fashion blogs and vice versa. There are still some very interesting vintage blogs on the go, but more and more I’m noticing them moving into talking about ‘fashion’ rather than their vintage origins.
Sometimes I feel like something of a throwback, or that I might be stuck in a blogging rut because
a) I don’t post pictures of myself in all my gear. Mainly because I hate photos of myself, but also because it’s a degree of intimacy with the unknown readers I’m not quite sure I’m comfortable with yet (especially given that this can crossover into one’s personal life, and makes it easy to stalk someone). It also assumes that anyone is interested in what I’m wearing. I’m very interested in seeing what certain other bloggers wear, but can’t understand any reciprocation.
b) I don’t seem to look at (let alone, shop at) net-a-porter….or any of those types of sites. I’m still determinedly buying vintage and, if I can’t find it vintage, I refuse to pay designer prices for things. Perhaps this might make me ‘inspirational’, except I can’t get over my fear of a) and post photos of myself in my ensembles so no one knows what the hell I’m wearing from day to day.
c) Part of my motivation is still to promote my vintage clothes. And to be geeky about vintage designers and style icons.
Watching The September Issue the other day, I was captivated by Grace Coddington. But then, who wasn’t? I noted with pleasure that she never seemed to use the words ‘trend’ or ‘season’, at least not in relation to her own work. She was just about the creative vision for her editorials and inspired by locations, photographs and beautiful clothes, regardless of who made them. I realised it was important to never lose that aspect of my own personality, although I am no Grace Coddington clearly, despite the lure of ‘fitting in’ by styling my blog in a more bloggy kind of way.
I suppose it’s more of a daily inspiration notepad, than me trying to make any huge statement about fashion or the world. The less I think about fashion, trends, seasons….the more inspired and prolific I am. It’s been a very tough few months for me, personally and professionally. Both knocking into the other and making each side worse. I should be grateful that I have managed to relaunch the site, with instant great response, and that I manage to update my blog almost daily. Even if it is just a picture of some gorgeous lady in a gorgeous dress, from forty-odd years ago.
It comes back to teenage years, I guess. I never fitted in then, I don’t know why sometimes I feel like I ought to be part of the mainstream now. I also find it peculiar how ‘independent’ blogging has become as mainstream as a weekly column in Grazia or wherever. The recent fuss about advertising on blogs, accepting freebies or sponsorship, has been interesting for me. How else are you going to make money by writing, uncommissioned, for yourself? But it also removes the ‘independent’ tag, in one swift movement.
I recently signed up to Project Wonderful, and added an Amazon associates box. I thought long and hard about even signing up for these, because I worried how I would be judged. I suppose I needn’t have worried about any of it, because I don’t think my daily hit rate really warrants either box. Ultimately, my income comes from my vintage site, my dressing work and the occasional illustration commission. A few pence here and there, via advertising, isn’t going to change my life. I don’t know how other people do it. I’m fascinated in an envious and nosy kind of way, and it’s one of those great unmentionables.
I almost wish I could look at other blogs without the inevitable trap of comparison. Just enjoy them for what they are. Perhaps I might have done, once upon a time when I was doing work experience on New Woman magazine and aspiring to be very ‘now’ rather than very ‘forty years ago’. But even that was mainly because I was more ambitious in that direction, and had momentarily lost the plot post-graduation. The pull of independence, pig-headed independence you might say, was always too strong.
Maybe I’ll start experimenting with different blogging styles. Maybe I’ll start posting pictures of myself in some weird attempt to access that exhibitionist part of my psyche, because it must be there somewhere. But ultimately, I don’t think I can change who I am. I am a vintage geek, not a fashion icon. I dress nicely, I think I choose interesting clothes, but that’s just innate. I’m doing it for myself, not for my readers. I love interacting with my readers, and I would be nothing without them, but ultimately my mantra will have to continue to be that I’m doing this blog for myself. If someone else ‘gets it’ and enjoys it, then that’s just perfection.