Since PVC, macs have been exotic… now the real exotics are turning waterproof. Weekend Telegraph photographed some of the unlikely new water-shedders in Jamaica, beside the Rio Grnde and in the Land of Look Behind.
Photographed by Burt Glinn.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from The Telegraph Magazine, July 1967.
Photographed by Bailey.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, March 1972.
I’m not saying my life would be complete if I had this entire outfit – particularly those shoes – but my wardrobe would be a happier place…
Photographed by Alex Chatelain. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers and Queen, April 1971
I can’t quite believe it. My first proper holiday in three years! And it’s somewhere I’ve dreamt of going for a painfully long time. I studied A Room With a View for English A-Level, and this did nothing but exacerbate my already quite intense passion for Italy. I went to the Lakes a long five years back, but my soul still desires Florence.
I’m trying not to get TOO excited. But it’s not working. I have ironed my loveliest sundresses and prepared a few Sixties evening minis, and I’m just praying for ash clouds and strikes to stay WELL away from us and our well-earned break. It’s also timed for my birthday, and I can’t think of a better way to spend it.
A few weeks back, I spotted this amazing spread in Vogue from 1967. Bailey on location, which instantly makes Bailey a lot better than usual. And the clothes are gorgeous (particularly the Varon). But the most important aspect is the Florentine backdrop.
I. Can’t. Wait.
p.s Obviously this means I can’t post items and deal with sales until I return on Tuesday. But it’s still first come, first served for sales, so you can still buy if anything tickles your fancy over on the website.
I was a misunderstood teenager. When I was fourteen my long dark hair, pale skin and propensity to don long jingly jangly skirts, boots and big jumpers was perceived as gothic. I actually resented being called a Goth, I knew I was really a hippy. I’ve been through plenty of styles since then but it usually comes back to the same thing, no matter how much the likes of Sienna Miller may kill the look through over-exposure.
I still burn incense, I still have long wavy (normally fairly unstyled) hair and I still favour chiffons and appliques and beads…oh my. But now I’m a grown up (!) I prefer the luxurious look, I take inspiration from the designs of Thea Porter, Janice Wainwright (in the Poland Street era) and of course from Ossie Clark.
I have worn my flares with pride throughout this whole skinny jean phenomenon (although I’m not averse to them either, I only wear them Jo Grant style – tucked into my Seventies boots) and my burgundy velour Louis Caring frock coat with the too-short sleeves has suddenly started to garner compliments from strangers. Despite the fact I’ve been wearing it to death these past four years.
Flicking through my Vogues once more for inspiration, both for my listings, my personal style and in an attempt to update this blog more regularly, I was entranced by two fashion spreads in a July 1969 Vogue. The first I will post now, the second I will post tomorrow I hope (too much eye candy rots your teeth!).
Photographed in Wales by Norman Parkinson, clothes by Gina Fratini, Thea Porter and Susan Small (who’da thunk it??) in the most astonishing surroundings. This is luxe hippy at its finest, like a dressing up box of styles, fabrics and moods…..