
Floaty cover-up in silk chiffon, printed with navy/red/cream, tying at waist; by Alice Pollock for Quorum, about £45. Black lycra swimsuit by Eres, £16.50.
Scanned from Harpers and Queen, June 1973. Photographs by James Wedge.

Floaty cover-up in silk chiffon, printed with navy/red/cream, tying at waist; by Alice Pollock for Quorum, about £45. Black lycra swimsuit by Eres, £16.50.
Scanned from Harpers and Queen, June 1973. Photographs by James Wedge.
Always happy to bring you another ‘lost’ shoot by the late, great Brian Duffy. Since Duffy destroyed his own archive, we are left to piece together a career from what was published in magazines or retained in other people’s archives. I try to scan and share whenever I can… I covet both Alice Pollock pieces in this spread, and love the man’s style. Definitely how all men should dress, always.
Photographed by Duffy. Fashion by Deirdre McSharry. Modelled by Greta Norris and Cyril Hartman.
Scanned from Cosmopolitan, July 1972.
As an aside, apologies for sporadic blogging at the moment. There are a few changes afoot and it is distracting me a little from my usual magazine scouring and scanning. I will tell you when everything, hopefully, falls into place in the next few weeks.

Front row left to right: Jean Muir, Alice Pollock, Thea Porter. Second row: John Bates, Tim Gardner, Gina Fratini. Third row: Bill Gibb, Zandra Rhodes. Top: Mary Quant, Ossie Clark.
So many egos, so little space… I’m placing bets that Quant and Bates didn’t speak to each other for the duration. But it’s also nice to see Bates sitting with his friend Bill Gibb, and now I like to think that Alice Pollock and Thea Porter must have been quite pally as well.

By Alice Pollock at Quorum*, 19gns. The settee is covered in the original William Morris Bird Design.
There’s a marvellously romantic feeling about the Pre-Raphaelite look. It starts with your hair…soft, natural, framing your face in a ripple of tiny waves. It touches your skin…pale, delicate, un-made-up looking. It colours your clothes…crepe, chiffons and satins in rich hues. Start wearing this great, romantic look today – who knows, he might just start being very romantic to you!
Scanned from Vanity Fair, May 1970. Photographed by John Kelly at Wightwick Manor.
*This is a misattribution, the dress is actually an Ossie.
So instead of getting into a frenzy of bikinis I’ve been able to concentrate on the way to look this autumn. Black and rather Dietrich. Masses of sequins; velvet, chiffon, moiré. And shiny, slinky ciré, like satin come out from under a shower. To wear this black sheer tights; to spark up with silver, jet and diamond.
As a wise man said to me very recently, it should have been mandatory for publications to identify their models back in the Sixties and Seventies. Luckily, some of you are very good at this anyway. (I am not). Also luckily, such features as this exist. From Honey, July 1967, we have a handy feature on some up-and-coming models of the time.
Twiggy, obviously, needs no introduction. The glorious Grace Coddington, Paulene Stone, Shirley Anne Hayes and the ethereally lovely Charlotte Martin feature amongst some lesser-[to me]-known beauties. If any of them ever do an ego-search on Google and find this blog, please do email me and let me know what you’re up to now!
I must admit that I am generally pretty ambivalent when it comes to model worship, but two of my absolute favourites are Pat Cleveland and Gala Mitchell. So imagine my delight when I found another issue of Vanity Fair from 1971 (December this time. Again, falling apart. What’s with the Vanity Fair binding?) and an entire spread with the two ladies I love? Imagine my further delight when I realise the shoot contains phenomenal clothes by Antony Price, Alice Pollock and Alcasura [sic]. It helps that it was photographed by the great David Montgomery (whose photos always seem to tickle my fancy).

Beautifully photographed and styled shoot with the slightly needy/domineering title as above. Curious.
Doing what I do, I’m in a good position to find and gift some [what I think are] beautiful clothes to my boyfriend. But I’m always hyper-aware that I don’t want to be the kind of girlfriend who tries to mould or change, in style or in any sense. And while I certainly enjoy dressing well for his delectation, I’m not the kind of girl who is ever really going to dress just to please a man. I consider it a happy accident that we have very similar sensibilities, so it’s not something I really have to worry about these days.
It’s a hard balance to strike, because our notions of sex-appeal and prettiness are invariably influenced by what we know men find appealing. Even the ‘anti fashion’ brigade dress in a way which they know will appeal to a similarly ‘anti fashion’ kind of man they might fancy. They may deny it, but it’s hard to separate style and sex-appeal on any level. An unwearably bonkers couture dress still reeks of money and power, which are alluring to many a man.
I’ve always had a slightly Good Cop/Bad Cop approach to dressing for my previous boyfriends. Rarely have they ever truly appreciated everything I’ve owned. On a good day, for them, I would shove ‘that top I don’t like’ to the back of my closet. On a bad day, for them, I would wear the exact opposite of what I knew they liked. I enjoyed knowing that it reflected badly on their taste, and well on mine of course.
If I walked into a club and saw three men dressed like this lot, I think I’d have to do a star jump onto them. Yum!