How about that sleeve? Striped jerseys and white silks wider than they’re long.
Satin skirts, all pictures, by Screaming Mini at Reflection, Kensington High Street.
Photographed at Mr Chow’s Montpelier, Knightsbridge. Chess set with fake fur board at Harrods.
I’m always excited to see Alice Pollock anything, anywhere, but this spread features a blouse I have (except mine is in black) in the second image. There’s a good reason why vintage blouses get snapped up so quickly, and this photoshoot proves it…
Photographed by Barry Lategan. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, April 1972
New pastels are in the air… everything pales beside you. You’re in broderie anglaise, pale straws, tender frills, everything in the garden’s rosy.
Photographed by Ku Khanh. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, July 1972
Photographed by Michael Cooper. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, January 1965.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, November 1967
Photographed by David Bailey. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, January 1968
Clothes from Mary Quant. Illustration by Barbara Pearlman.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, February 1969
Photographed by David Bailey. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, March 1972
Moya Bowler’s pow-packed new collection of funny boots for Mitsubishi. She designed them in Japan, they’ll be worn on both sides of the world.
Photograph by Tessa Traeger. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, January 1972.
Against the trompe l’oeil backdrops of a photographer’s portrait studio in Luxor High Street. Cake-frill blouse of flocked black voile, halter-necked, meeting at the waist and tying together at the back, and black linen trousers with big red polka dot. Green bead and red bow necklace. By Pablo & Delia, £20, at Browns.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, January 1972
“It all begins and ends with the girl. There’s no such thing as a ‘sexy’ dress – it’s just so much fabric until it’s on the body. The look depends so much on the wearer. You have to keep in mind that some stage in the day it’s all got to come off. You see, I’m a realist.”
“There’s a lot of rubbish talked about women dressing to please themselves or to impress other women. Women dress to please men. It’s for men that they keep themselves in shape, try out new make-up, change their hair. But it’s a very sad thing when a woman is frightened to move from what she knows her man likes. You can see it so clearly with wives and husbands; she suddenly ‘freezes’. Clever women know that by always looking the same you gradually make yourself invisible. That’s why I like to dress actresses – they’re not afraid to change and make men look at them with pleasure all over again. So each time I design a collection I make it new, concentrate on a different zone of the body… this time it’s the shoulders and arms, a way of cutting and gathering the sleeves.
“I think London women look better than anyone in the world. I admire the way Americans care, but it shows a little, and it shouldn’t. They’re best when they’re wearing the least make-up, and their hair shines like they invented shampoo, but come the witching hour of four o’clock… they’re hilarious. The French have a great way with shirts and sweaters and skirts, but we’ve been admiring that for thirty years. They’re inhibited- they won’t try something new. The English can be quite mad one day and very chic the next, and do it without any visible effort. Since the ‘sixties we’ve been enjoying fashion in a way that’s unique.
“I never want to hear the word ‘layers’ again. Let’s see the shape, let’s see it moving. I’m not talking about teenagers. I saw a woman who must have been 80 in one of my dresses at a party recently and the dress had a low neck. That could be a recipe for disaster, but it wasn’t. She looked great because she was thin and cheerful, she stood well, she’d looked after herself.”
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, February 1976. Photographed by Barry Lategan. All clothes by John Bates.
*I say this with tongue firmly in cheek, of course. I worship the man…