Reasons why Vanity Fair is one of the best fashion magazines ever #29847: A fashion editorial inspired by a fighting couple, photographed by Saul Leiter…
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vanity Fair, January 1971.
Spring greens by Sonia Rykiel. Jade greens and creams. Wool on wool, texture on texture. Bobbly mohair and smooth jersey to keep you warm on chilly days. Longer, looser skirts and interesting open cardigans with scooped necks.
Photographed by Steve Hiett.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers and Queen, February 1974.
Always the same definite hand-writing, developed season after season, but such sure grasp of colour and how to make women look sexy that’s she’s become one of the most copied designers for knits and dresses. This spring, she continues her layered look, has a longer bodyline and belts to leave flying or tie under a gently bloused top. Milky pink sweater with long sleeves and small ties edged in raspberry, under pink mohair sweater with pink fine jersey culottes. The small-head look comes from tiny tight-fitting cap with strings. Palest aquamarine sweater with a frilled neckline and ties with matching flowers, worn with a fitting jersey skirt and the tight skull cap. Mulberry printed voile dress (opposite) with deep plain flounce at the hem, with a matching head-dress, held in place with a plaited woollen band like a sheik.
Photographed by Jo Francki.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Over 21 magazine, February 1975.
Those famous twenty-five million Frenchmen can’t be wrong. They fancy French girls a lot (a recent L’Express opinion poll revealed that the average Frenchman makes love to 11.8 women in his life). What is it about French girls that makes them so special? They aren’t so pretty as most English girls, but they try harder. They smell sexier, exude more confience, put themselves together better. Think of Bardot, Anouk Aimee, Catherine Deneuve. For all the GB girls who’d like to look like BB and AA the fashion buyers flock to Paris in search of the real “style francais”: sweaters for a movie star profile, trousers to give the bottom a lift, dresses that pay for their dinner in chic. A French label gives cachet although the price tag is not cheap. But it’s worth every penny — when he’s in the mood for l’amour. Just add Beaujolais and serve. We like Paris fashion when it sizzles … this little lot almost burns the pages and you can buy them all here.
Three Paris types. Two blondes and a tough in black leather. Is France all Gauloises and love in the afternoon? Louise, Roberto and Christiana wear the new clothes and give us their views.
Photographed by Alice Springs.
Fashion by Deirdre McSharry.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Cosmopolitan, February 1973
Photographed by Rod Delroy.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers and Queen, December 1971.
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.'”
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