No, it’s not a new Spice Girls line-up. David Bailey and Vogue posed this quartet of female styles back in 1974 and I think it’s a wonderful photoshoot, if a little bit silly in premise terms. Bailey can be a very hit-and-miss photographer, for me at any rate, so I thought it would be nice to show you one of the better shoots I’ve found in my stash of magazines! And while it’s certainly all a bit of silly fluffy nonsense, we all need a bit of silly fluffy fantasy when the weather is a bit grim and the world is all stressing about money….
You only ever see her at night: she hardly exists before 10pm. Her small house is all black velvet and mirrorglass, with a private bar and a fishtank bath, a hothouse where she grows spotted green orchids. Stomo Yamashata plays at the touch of a button at home and in her Panther Ferrari. She wears all shades of black and the Diaghilev colours – fuschia pink and violet, emerald and kingfisher – and the night scent, Norell. She puts crimson carnations in a porphyry vase of black ink overday, wears them to bring her luck at the Clermont. On rainy nights friends come through the wet to watch old movies in her private cinema – Bogart, Cagney, and her new favourite, LinoVentura.
A natural actress, show-off and scene-stealer. She arrives hours late for almost everything and her entrances are timed to perfection. She spends money like there’s no tomorrow and she makes it too. A born gambler, she cashes in her diamond chips and plays the stock market with gilt-edged assurance. She’ll have nothing but the best, including men. Her music? Mahler and the sound of oil wells. Her habitat: Annabel’s, Ritz bar anywhere, Mark’s Club. Her holiday: Las Hadas, Mexico, El Cuarton, Spain, Bali, Brazil. Her luggage: Vuitton. Her clothes: as you see here. Her scent: the newest. She travels by Lear jet, Rolls Corniche convertible, horse and carriage. She reads the Financial Times and there’s nothing average about her Dow-Jones.
…… What would you be?