German actress Sylvie Winters (sic) seems to be the new mood of Munich. She buys her clothes from Sweetheart, Leopoldstrasse 54, in the Schwabing/Chelsea district. Sweetheart is run by its two designers; amongst wall-sized posters and giant-sized carrot tins they sell fantasy chiffons and pop satin zip suits.
Sounds like the German version of Mr Freedom! It’s always fascinating to see how far and wide the boutique trend had spread, I just wish there were more photos of the interior.
Photographed by Pat York.
Scanned from Vogue (‘Vogue’s Own Boutique’), September 1971.
Victoria Tennant, an Afghan hound and a jacket of real patent leather, caramel brown and shiny. She is a drama student at the Central School. The jacket, 39 gns, was made with wide lapels and a belt, by a new boutique, Kenneth Vard, 90 Marylebone High Street, W.1, who makes anything in any colour and any suede or leather.
Obviously I do not condone the message as regards the product being advertised here, but what an amazing, ephemeral capture of the Quorum boutique window with Ossies on both the model and the mannequin (‘Bridget’ and ‘Cuddly’ respectively). I also think that might possibly be the ghostly figure of Alice Pollock in the background.
Quite apart from Elliott Gould being a very worthy successor to Humphrey Bogart as Philip Marlowe, and the faded-but-magnificent Art Deco buildings which feature throughout, Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye (1973) is also well worth watching for Nina van Pallandt’s wardrobe.
First appearing in what looks like Laura Ashley:
Then a less identifiable dress of a similar ‘peasant’ style but rather less traditionally English in the use of pattern and colour (possibly by Mexicana, Georgia Charuhas or a similar brand):
You can see more clearly in this publicity shot that the bands of lace are transparent:
Then Laura Ashley again:
Slightly clearer albeit black and white in this publicity shot:
By this point, I started wondering if this wardrobe was perhaps that of the actress rather than of the character. Nina van Pallandt was a successful Danish singer (with husband Frederik van Pallandt, they were known as ‘Nina and Frederik’) and would have spent a great deal of time in London. It otherwise seemed a bit odd that she was wearing clearly British-made clothes, albeit in a style which wouldn’t seem too dramatically out of place in early 1970s California. It certainly sets her apart from the few other women in the film, including Marlowe’s doped up neighbours (who are rarely clothed at all), and gives her a dreamy, other-worldly quality.
Then, as if by magic, she then appears in the most spectacular Zandra Rhodes gown. A gown which will, I’m afraid to say, eventually end up soaked through with sea water and very likely ruined.
Again, a proper publicity shot provides a clearer view of the classic Zandra squiggle print:
Afterwards, still pondering this, I hunted around for film stills and eventually came across this photo of Nina wearing the exact same dress in an earlier television performance. Bingo! I don’t know if it was just a small budget or a fussy leading lady, but I can only presume the entire wardrobe of her character was her own. One of those little things which seems to satisfy a curiosity in me, and I feel the need to share with the world.
I think this might be a piece from Zandra’s earliest collection as the hood and sleeve style is very reminiscent of this piece worn by Natalie Wood in 1970. I hope it was able to be rescued from its salty fate and is still out there somewhere.
In this age of mass-production, finding clothes that have an individual look is becoming more and more difficult. But a few enterprising minds in London have got round the problem by buying old clothes, in beautiful prints that one doesn’t see these days, and remaking them in today’s styles. Though the styles are repeated, the materials are different and each garment is quite unique. If you don’t live in London, don’t despair. Look around for a clever seamstress who can copy the styles for you. Then, it’s a matter of combing jumble sales, or looking among granny’s cast-offs, for unusual prints. Don’t, however, cut up clothes in good condition. You’ll get a good price for these in London markets. And if you do come to London, go round the markets instead of the stores and boutiques – there’s a lot to be picked up!
An extraordinarily styled and photographed editorial featuring Van der Fransen, Emmerton and Lambert and Essences, all of whom were trailblazers in the world of vintage and recycled fashion.
This shoot also manages to answer two of my most frequently asked questions: what is your favourite editorial and what do you think the future of fashion will be. The former is probably a moveable feast, although this one is definitely up there with my other favourite, but the latter is still something I believe strongly. Especially in a post-pandemic landscape, I am not sure (and definitely hopeful) that we will ever see the same levels of mass production post-2020. Not for want of desire by the high street shops, but because people have maybe recognised that, actually, they don’t need armfuls of cheap synthetic, single-use garments. Perhaps the aesthetics and principles of these recyclers of the Sixties and Seventies will finally be adopted as our default? We could stop producing new clothes and fabrics right now and probably never reach the end of the piles of recyclable materials. And that’s not even taking wearable vintage garments into account. Do you feel your shopping habits have changed permanently?
For some years now the London fashion designers have had the edge on their Paris rivals for ideas and innovations. Tomorrow evening a film on this subject will be shown on BBC1. Today we photograph the key London designers with their favourite clothes. What do they think of the London fashion scene? Where do we go from here?
Photographed by Terence Donovan. Fashion by Cherry Twiss.
Scanned from The Telegraph Magazine, May 25th 1973.
This post is brought to you in two parts. The editorial was, unusually, photographed by two different photographers in two different locations. Tomorrow I will post the photos from Brighton Pier (very exciting for me, as you can guess!). Today’s were photographed in Meeny’s, which was a King’s Road boutique started by Gary Craze in 1972 – specialising in American brands for both adults and children. Clearly showing the same influences as Mr Freedom, this is the first I’ve seen of the interior. The clothes are the very creme de la creme of boutique ‘pop art’ joyfulness.