Photographed by Clive Arrowsmith.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Beauty in Vogue, 1970/71
Cecil Beaton took pictures of Penelope Tree wearing new Ossie Clarks in his Wiltshire winter garden and David Bailey filmed them both, below. Double take—like a scene from the film with Cecil Beaton as the star that David Bailey is making and everyone can see in colour on ATV early next year. When I Die I Want to Go to Vogue was Bailey’s idea of a title: nobody agreed with this. For one thing it would only reflect one aspect of the Beaton legend writer, of more than twenty books; painter, with at least five major exhibitions; designer, of just about everything—opera, ballet, theatre, film—and one-man commentator, whose eye has always focused unerringly, and wittily, on the moment—this moment.
“An epic with a cast of thousands,” says Bailey about the film. There’s Mick Jagger, Jean Shrimpton, Lord David Cecil, Nureyev, Twiggy and many, including Sir Frederick Ashton, Dr Roy Strong, Sir George and Lady Weidenfeld, David Hockney, Patrick Procktor, Ossie Clark, Celia Birtwell, Mrs Anne Fleming, Lord and Lady Harewood, Lady Antonia Fraser and Edna O’Brien, who came to the now famous party that Cecil Beaton gave, and David Bailey filmed, in his London house. “I told everyone beforehand that there would be cameras and told them not to come if they minded. Nobody did mind.” “The worst moments,” says a guest, were when you knew the cameras were not on you.” And Beaton added, It was a mixture of people all looking very interesting in their new autumn clothes. Many looked beautiful.” Beautiful Tree with the mysterious Mexican Datura lily, right. Black panne velvet suit with great gathered Edwardian sleeves, a cowl and long panelled skirt; to order. Black crepe dress, side-buttoning collar, then split, long split skirt with pleated panel, 17 gns. Both at Quorum. Victorian silver choker, Sarah Dwyer and Tony Giorgi, The Chelsea Antique Market. Hair by Celine of Leonard.
Above photographed by Cecil Beaton. Below photographed by David Bailey.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, December 1970.
…contrived in Van Dongen colours.
Gala Mitchell photographed by Barry Lategan.
Make-up by Estee Lauder. Hair by Daniel and Oliver of Leonard.
Black straw hat and ivory satin-ribboned blouse from Sharron’s Shoppe, Kensington Market.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Beauty In Vogue, 1970.
Some men may wince at the thought of wearing anything more flash than an Alfa Romeo watch. And some girls will weep at the prospect of spending any of their salary on him. But there’s no doubt that a good deal of gilt-edged swopping is going on among the sexes. And I don’t mean that trad plain gold band. Much more interesting is the trend for loving couples to buy each other jewellery that they both can wear. It began a few years ago with gilt and elephant-hair rings that the likes of Twiggy and Justin used to sport. Then the Together People began exchanging chunky under-water watches and Cartier’s gold “love” bangles. Very simple, very expensive and very permanent because they are fastened with a screwdriver. Now that even jet-setters are uniformed like Steve McQueen in blue jeans, the latest swop-about jewellery is suitably chunky and shiny as a Harley-Davidson bike—see above: Peter Hinwood in a silver chain and bracelet from Andre Bogaert and ivory tusks from Butler and Wilson. The ear-ring is his own. Janni Goss is weighed down with two chromium bangles by Gijis Bakker, a stainless-steel belt by Emanuel Raft and a silver pendant by Helga Zahn. All one-offs and available at the Electrum Gallery, where customers include Julie Christie and Fenella Fielding. The girls order for themselves and their fellas. Gals and guys who prefer their jewellery on the frankly flash side—and they include Yoko and John Lennon—apply to Mick Milligan who designs the glitter stuff, worn by Barbara Trentham. and Gary Myers, below. Mick designs with his tongue in his cheek, like the BLANG! pins and the Rolls-Royce radiator badge, made in solid silver for Leonard, the London hairdresser, which Leonard’s wife also borrows. For females only: the “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend” necklet—naturally 100 per cent fake stones—which Barbara wears with a fistful of chrome rings. From a fiver each, you can tell Mick’s loot is more than a joke. Meanwhile he is laughing all the way to the bank, so BLANG! to you. Lurex knit is by Christopher McDonnell.
Photographed by Norman Eales. Text by Deirdre McSharry.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Cosmopolitan, March 1972.
Further adventures in Midnight Blue…
You may, or may not, remember my earlier posts about Peter Burden’s Midnight Blue shop of 186 Fulham Road. Here is a superb shoot by Clive Arrowsmith of a young Greta Scacchi wearing Midnight Blue clothes from 1978. Looking at Peter’s email again, I can’t help but wonder if the ‘Carol Lee’ he mentions might be the same Carole Lee who designed this exquisite silk top (still available to buy) at Vintage-a-Peel?
Photographed by Clive Arrowsmith.
Assisted by Bo.
Model Greta at Models One.
Styled by Catkin & David.
Hair by Leonard.
Shoes by Saxone. All jewellery available from Graff.
All clothes available from Midnight Blue.
Cameraman, Camera and Microphone by courtesy of Thames Television.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Ritz, Issue 18 1978
In the Fifties a trip to the hairdresser’s was a daunting ordeal – for you and for each hair on your head. Vidal Sassoon changed all that in 1964, and substituted the welcome breeziness of the blow-drying second-generation stylists. Who are the other top hairdresses, and who goes to them?
There are no credits for the clothes, but I think Marianne’s glorious ensemble must be a Bill Gibb, and Sian Phillips’s elegant coat looks like a John Bates to me. Such a glorious array of celebs, I think Michaeljohn win on numbers (but Ricci Burns really ought to win, purely because of the way his ladies are dressed!).
Photographed by Geg Germany.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from The Telegraph Magazine, September 19th 1975
But before you start chucking him back, remember the average British male is all you’ve got to work on. So get working on him. Tell him you think his barber stinks. Say you’ll scream if he turns up in that seedy safari jacket, with those baggy drainpipes, and bunion-hugging shoes again. Meantime, wear this pale blue hooded coat £45, matching poloneck with red chevron front £21, and matching trousers £28. All by Sonia Rykiel at Browns.”
This is a quite-frankly-amazing little photo story from Vanity Fair, which sees our Cinderfella hero being taken from baggy drainpipes to novelty-print-shirted Hard Rock Cafe God, via the Kensington Church Street branch of Mr Freedom and Leonard of Mayfair.
Photographed by Marc Leonard. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vanity Fair, January 1972
…swap the chat for action. Shove him into Mr. Freedom, 2- Kensington Church Street, W8. Strip off his drainpipes and fit him into a pair of red velvet jeans, £7.75. Rip off his jacket and zip him into a red-and-white satin top, £7.95. (It’s got FAR OUT splashed over the shoulders to make sure he gets the message). And while you’re there, buy yourself some pale blue satin trousers, £5.25, a furry acrylic leopard-skin blouse, £9.95, and a black pom-pom beret, £4.”
He’s at Leonard, 6 Upper Grosvenor Street, W1 (even if you had to frog march him there), being tactfully handled by Peter. Wash, cut and blow-dry costs £3.75, beard 5-p. extra – not much when you consider it’s made a mean-moody-magnificent out of that surly yobo of yours.”
Sitting in the Hard Rock Cafe in his grey wool barathea Stirling Cooper suit, £28.00 with a waistcoat, and his tiny-man-patterned shirt, £4.90. Both from Way-In, Hans Crescent, SW1. You’re in your Missoni four-piece (orangey battledress top, matching trousers, orange silky blouse and toning striped tank top). £75 from Browns. Thinking what a perfect couple you make. Except that now he’s thinking: ‘Blimey mate, you could do a lot better than her if you tried.'”