. . . or how to wear furs this winter without hurting your pet’s feelings.
There is nothing, absolute nothing quite like wrapping yourself in fur. As a sensuous experience, it is in the same class as a new love, old champagne or fresh truffles. But even the most hedonistic of women are relieved that the threatened species are no longer imported. Snow leopards, tigers and other cats can go their own way and sensibly sybaritic female will look for furs that are farmed, such as fox and mink. This winter, too, the fakes are so wayout and wildly coloured that only a girl without a heart could resist their charms, albeit synthetic. Perhaps that’s why the fur trade have taken the hint and dipped their favourite fox pelts in the dye pot, Furrier Maxwell Croft offers his explanation of the female urge to wear and the male urge to bestow furs: “For many men it is a primitive desire to see his woman in furs.”. Very nice,too.
Plenty to scoff at the end of the copy there, but oh goodness the clothes – the clothes! And the glorious photography of Alice Springs, whose work doesn’t turn up nearly enough for my liking.
Liberty has covered another few indoor acres with flowers and trellis and the acres are acres of tiles made by Fired Earth. Refreshingly pretty as might be expected, with fabrics to match exactly or very nearly. The _project was initiated by the late Blair Pride, co-ordinated by Susan Collier, Liberty’s design consultant, who with Sarah Campbell produced the designs. Here they are in situ.
This autumn there are bags everywhere: Oxford ones on your pins and clutch ones in the hand. The return of the straight trouser has brought with it wing lapelled jackets with padded shoulders and neat waistcoats. Underneath, a feminine touch to soften the butch look, blouses with floppy painters’ bows. And don’t forget your clutch bag tucked neatly under your arm.
First-job salaries can present problems when you’re not used to juggling the rent around a new skirt or sweater. But there are ways—as you’ll see on these pages—of looking not just good, but positively great on a tight budget. Learn the rules of the “looking-good-on-a-little” game . . . remember that one pair of pants at £10+ will outlive two pairs that split whenever you sit down; that washable fabrics mean you’ll have no cleaning bills. Learn how to bleach and dye, starch and press properly—so you’ll be able to match vest tops and T-shirts to your new longer flowery skirts and keep them looking fresh. Invest in beautiful leather shoes: they last and look good if polished every day. Spend more on accessories —sometimes—than a new dress. Build your wardrobe around two or three colours—as crazy as you like—and find jolly extras to pull it all together. . . . This may be the summer you always wear a hat. Here is my choice of nine outfits . . . chic, very wearable and all cheap at the price. That’s fashion knowhow.
As it’s my *cough* 40th *cough* birthday next week, I thought I’d theme a few blog posts to celebrate. So this week, they will all be hailing from the July 1979 issue of 19 Magazine. It’s a fascinating period on the cusp between the decades, which I like to think had some kind of immense bearing on the person I am today. Being July I’m afraid it’s a bit swimsuit-heavy, but it’s also one of the greatest, most creative periods for swimwear which, in the case of Swanky Modes, is almost the purest distillation of their aesthetic.
Photographed by Ku Khanh. Hair and make-up by Colin Booker.
I think it’s fair to say that us Brits went a bit Snoopy-crazy in 1976, from what I’ve read and seen, and this adorable editorial is the perfect example of the post-modern appropriation of childhood cartoon figures by fashionable adults in the Seventies (see also Mr Freedom and Miss Mouse). Of course, there are clothes from Miss Mouse and Lee Bender’s Bus Stop – which is similar to the notorious ‘Andy Pandy’ dungaree outfit worn by Sarah Jane Smith in Doctor Who.
Photographed by John Greenaway. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from 19 Magazine, April 1976.
Hat from Elle. Shirt by Riva. Dungarees by Bus Stop. Corduroy and leather shoes by Miss Revolution.
T-shirt by Radley. Jumpsuit, tights and socks all by Mary Quant. Shoes by Miss Revolution.
Shirt by Emesse. Skirt by Miss Mouse. Sneakers by Miss Revolution.
Baseball cap, from Badges and Equipment. T-shirt by Radley. Bomber jacket by Emesse. Scarf by Herbert Johnson.