Photoshoot in Queen’s Wood, Highgate. Typical British “August” weather tried to stop us, but I think they’re beautiful shots. Thank you so much, ladies!
I can’t believe I’ve never scanned this before. Honestly, the backlog of scanning is ridiculous due to time constraints and the fact that all magazines other than early Honeys are a very Bad Size for my scanner. When will I ever have an A3 scanner? When will I ever have the room?
Anyway, this is an utterly delicious shoot from The Daily Telegraph Magazine, July 1972, featuring some seriously beautiful clothes actually worn underwater in the Bahamas. I must admit that part of me winces at the idea of a silk chiffon Ossie being ruined in the name of a photoshoot. But, then, this is an incredible shoot…and no one would dare do it now, with a vintage piece, so it’s totally unique. I genuinely think that Cherry Twiss is one of the great unsung heroes of British fashion journalism, I’ve always loved the Daily Telegraph Magazine shoots under her direction.
Fashion Editor: Cherry Twiss
Photographer: Flip Schulke
Model: Cathy Shirriff
Also, unfortunately, the Telegraph had a pretty lousy print at times – especially when it came to the small ‘inset’ images. I’ve done my best, but they’re low-res to start with I’m afraid. Still very enjoyable and inspirational though…
I’m very chuffed to have put in an appearance in Cision’s Top 10 UK Vintage Clothing Blogs, and in such esteemed company as well. Very nice to get recognition from such a site, even if I don’t quite understand how I ended up there! Thanks Cision! Thision.
(That’s for for any Look Around You fans out there….)
This may, at first, look like the laziest book review in the world. I can be a lazy person, tis true, but I couldn’t really think of a better way to review such an extraordinary book. It needs to be possessed, to be pored over, to be appreciated en masse and to be studied in fine detail.
Lifestyle Illustrations of the ’60s by Rian Hughes is one man’s personal project to bring those unsung illustrators of the period to the attention of the wider world. If you’re anything like me, they are a source of great fascination and inspiration when you flick through a vintage copy of Honey or Petticoat. And if you were reading Womans Own et al back in the day, they would certainly have inspired daydreams from their fleeting representations of the magazine’s romantic short stories. They are often small in size, but incredible in skill, style and social comment. The timeline element of the book also allows you to see the development of social aspirations, fashion styles, illustration styles and inspirations (the clear references to art deco and art nouveau styles) and attitudes to morals and relationships.
When I find them in the magazines, I try to remember to scan them in. But I’m a bit forgetful, so this doesn’t always happen. When I first laid my eyes and hands on this book, it was like heaven. Someone else has gone to the trouble of scanning them in, cleaning them up and collating them by date and crediting the artist where possible. Consequently, it feels a bit weird to scan in pages and individual illustrations to illustrate my review. Firstly, there are just way too many and my scanner is a bit fiddly (coupled with a big heavy book, whose spine I’d rather not break just yet). Secondly, because I want you to go out and get a copy yourselves. Words and scans can’t really demonstrate what it’s like to flick through such a book. Each page inspires a cry of ‘ooooh, pretty’. Well, that’s my reaction anyway. Scans wouldn’t do it justice.
So I decided to sit and flick and take photographs of the most ‘ooh’-inspiring pages. Of course I had to give up after about 20 photos because I realised I would end up photographing the entire thing. But here are the collated images, just casually snapped so you get some feeling of what it’s like. Unsurprisingly, I’m most taken with the later period with the psychedelic, art deco and art nouveau influences, but I’ve tried to show you a cross-section of the entire book.
Now all they need is to put on an exhibition. There’s something lovely about having them all collated into a book, but it can lessen the impact of some solitary works of art. I would dearly love to see them displayed as large prints.
Oh no! Major oversight. I never finished scanning pictures from the Boyfriend annual 1969! Naughty me…. Since it’s a bit of an unofficial menswear week on the blog, here’s the gorgeous Simon Dupree and the Big Sound. So. Many. Stripes. Can’t. Cope. Swoon.
Also contained within the aforementioned July 1967 Petticoat magazine, is this superb illustrated feature on some extremely groovy menswear. Illustrated by Gerry Richards. Utterly brilliant and too good not to share…
Cedric Safesuit was a civil servant with good prospects and only one problem – all the girls rebuffed his advances with haughty stares. Why? Because Cedric was an acute and unhappy case of B.O. (boring outerwear).
Fortunately for our story, Cedric’s best friend Teddy Trend decided to take him in hand. King’s Road, he whispered at ever more frequent intervals. Carnaby Street, he muttered whenever the conversation flagged. Finally Cedric was worn down and, let loose among the gear shops, an astonishing change came over him. With whoops of delight, he tore off his old brown suit and signed cheques for everything he could lay his hands on. “I’ll never have B.O. again,” he said happily, walking off with Teddy Trend’s latest acquisition, a Twiggy-hipped redhead. “A severe case of B.H. (big head),” diagnosed Teddy sourly.
New summer image in John Stephen His Boutique yellow seersucker shirt, 55s., matching orange seersucker trousers also by John Stephen, 65s., boots worth a second look, black and tans by Topper, 89s. 11d., tartan chucka boots, 45s. 6d.
Brown herringbone coat by Dandy, 21gns., John Michael flat hat for flat heads, 89s. 6d., white jabot for that dapper look by Dandy, 20s.
From John Stephen His Boutique white satin vicar shirt, 89s. 6d., red velvet bow from the Chelsea Antique Market, 12s. 6d., matching black trousers with white inverted pleat by Lord John, 79s. 11d., and a business-like black bowler with red cherries, 15s. at the Chelsea Antique Market.
Ahhhhh. Men. So few know how to dress these days. I’m lucky that, more recently, I have been spending time with a gentleman who definitely knows how to dress. If you’d asked me a few years back, to describe how I would like my ideal man to dress…..well, it would be pretty much spot on. But a few years ago, it would also have felt like a very impossible dream.
For some reason, the odd odd-man would come along and would want me to ‘re-style’ them. And then, for some reason, they would fail to listen to a damn word I said. The rest lived in t-shirts and jeans. Sigh. Anyway, you should never try to ‘change’ someone. I just wish they taught this kind of stuff to boys in school. Or that I lived in the Sixties.
(Mmmm, yes, the latter please!)
Anyway, I bought this copy of Petticoat from July 1967 the other day and was having severe fits of menswear-lust. The cover boys are all ‘English Boy’ models, the agency famously linked with those Quorumites in the late Sixties King’s Road scene, but I doubt any of them would be considered model-standard these days. However, they are instantly raised to godlike status simply because of the way they are suited and booted.
I also noted with amusement that the far left chappy is wearing a coat/jacket remarkably similar to my favourite (and now, inevitably, very shabby) burgundy velvet autumn coat. Confirming the fact that, I think, I often aspire to look like a male dandy when autumn hits, rather than a lady.
Ahhhh, so I didn’t get a nomination for the Cosmo blog awards. I didn’t think I would, but I do wish that these lists would incorporate blogs with a bit more personality beyond whatever the PR companies are sending them this week. In case anyone objects to my slightly waspish tone, there is no one on the fashion list who is also on my reading list. Or who follows me, that I know of. Or who I’ve ever heard of. And I am prone to sweeping generalisations when I choose. My blog, my rules.
Me, I acquire paper cuts from 32-year-old fashion reference books just so I can bring you weird and wonderful photos of weird and wonderful clothes and people. I guess I’m a bit niche, which is totally fine by me. And I rarely show my face.
Other people who didn’t have much of a public face were designers of the past. Particularly the male ones who wouldn’t have looked much good in their own designs, unlike a lot of female designers. Before the cult of celebrity started to infect fashion designers, the likes of Hardy Amies and Victor Stiebel were happy to let their frocks do the talking. No eyeliner, eye-patches or black lace fans for them, oh no.
So it’s rather delightful when you come across a little feature such as this one, from Prudence Glynn’s In Fashion book from 1978. Three of the photos are by John French, and the Digby Morton is thrown in for good measure. I’m always fascinated to see the face behind the frocks; it can be rather astonishing to test out your own preconceptions.
An impressive pose and an impressive look…
(Yes, of course I’m wearing wet-look long gloves with my white crepe dress. Why? Because I can, darling, because I can….)
My dad used to talk about how, back in the Sixties, they would watch ‘mainly French music videos’ in coffee shops on ‘video jukeboxes’. I never really got to the bottom of it, at the time, and it was only when someone actually gave me the word Scopitone that I finally worked out what on earth he’d been talking about. (According to him, that was the only possible reason that Johnny Hallyday had ever become so popular here).
The Scopitone phenomenon was never really adopted by British or American stars on the same scale as in continental Europe, despite the fact that there were hundreds of machines installed throughout the US, so it is mostly effective as a record of those beautiful Yé-yé stars who briefly invaded the consciousness of British coffee shop-dwelling teenagers.
I decided to blog about this after seeking out footage of France Gall singing ‘Baby Pop’. Her appearance in Gainsbourg (Vie héroïque) is so hilarious, I needed to see the original. I’m somewhat disappointed by the lack of insane dancing there, but it did remind me to blog a few of my favourite examples of the genre.