Foale and Tuffin

Made in England

book reviews, Foale and Tuffin, iain r. webb, james wedge, jean shrimpton, jenny boyd, john bates, marit allen, sixties

I was lucky enough to be able to attend ‘In conversation with Iain R. Webb’ at the Fashion and Textile Museum last week, in my inadvertent and faintly ridiculous new capacity as fashion book groupie. Iain is the kind of person who completely awes me into silence with his knowledge and experience, so it was nice to be able to just take a seat and listen to him for an hour or so – without feeling like a chump for being awed into silence.

If you don’t already have a copy of Foale and Tuffin, then why on earth not? Put it on your Christmas list! Buy yourself one as a treat! Hunt me down and steal my copy! I’ll whack you over the head with my copy of Arthur Marwick’s The Sixties (a nice, hefty tome which would be perfect for book-stealing blog-readers) but I’ll forgive you eventually.

When I first heard they were actually planning to do a book on those fabulous ladies, AND an exhibition, I nearly squealed in delight. I may actually have done so, but I was in a room with John Bates so there’s not a lot I can remember from that night (if you want to put me on mute, lock me in a room with John Bates and Iain R. Webb and you won’t hear a squeak out of me).

My dream Foale and Tuffin outfit. Photographed by the incredible James Wedge.


The book doesn’t disappoint. As I have heard many people saying, not least those behind the project, the most appealing thing about it is that it isn’t a simple biography of two people. It’s like a window into their friendship coupled with a luxury chocolate box selection of Important People who, cumulatively, give a valuable insight into a most intriguing and endlessly inspiring period in history.

You often come away from fashion books with a strong sense of one person’s life. One person’s view of a cultural revolution. Often you can barely find mention of other designers within its pages; throwaway references to models, movers and shakers and maybe the odd two line quote. But here, in Foale and Tuffin, you have small essays created from interviews with the likes of Jean Shrimpton, Jenny Boyd, James Wedge, Marit Allen, Molly Parkin….oh I can’t even prioritize them, they’re all so important. It’s like a proper documentary in book form. In fact, I’d be a very happy bunny if they had been able to produce this as a ‘Beyond Biba’ style film.

In between the photos and essays, there are excerpts from Webb’s interviews with the gals. Much like the Ossie Clark and John Bates books before it, you’ll probably flick through it a few times just to ogle the amazing photos and barely take in any of the detail. But eventually you’ll find a window of time, when you can snuggle down and ‘listen’ to Marion and Sally nattering away. I’ve had the good fortune to have witnessed this a couple of times in person (although only tiny vignettes of F&T-ness, really) and have heard even more by proxy, so I’m delighted that an almighty natter with the girls has been recorded for posterity.

Why can’t more books be like this?

My two favourite candid photos of Sally and Marion from the book. I can definitely relate to Marion’s ‘Sewing Machine face’.

Who’s Wearing What: Penelope Tree

british boutique movement, david bailey, Foale and Tuffin, mary quant, ossie clark, penelope tree, petticoat magazine, sixties

I adore Penelope Tree; her hair, make-up, style, the fact that she still looks amazing (without having had surgery…at least that’s what it looks like), the fact that she survived being with Bailey, the fact she doesn’t feel the need to whore herself around for fame and fortune…..

I particularly love this article from the June 14th 1969 issue of Petticoat magazine.

In New York Penelope Tree is a top fashion model. You can’t open American Vogue or Harpers without seeing her dripping furs, jewellery. In England she’s more well-known for being Bailey’s Bird. What sort of clothes does she wear to please herself?

I got off to a good start by losing my pencil, every time I delived in my bag to find it I got butted in the bottom by Smudge, Penelope’s enormous English sheep dog. “And he’s still only a puppy,” she said apologetically, whacking him. I gave up looking, and she handed me a pencil. We sat either end of a vast black leather Chesterfield, surrounded by ‘naive’ paintings, Mickey Mouse and stone sculptures of sorts.

“I go six months without ever buying clothes, because I hate it more than anything else. I think I’m going to get all paranoic in the shop, specially Department Stores, I think I’m going to throw-up or something. I’ve been buying clothes for myself since I was 12 years old and it still gets me. When I do see something I like, I usually buy a lot. This dress, I bought at Maryon about a year ago. I liked it so much I bought three.”

She was wearing a full-length, green cotton dress, sprigged with tiny daisies, topped with a short black velvet vest, “a bit from a Tuffin and Foale trouser suit, I think” and thick brown brogue boots.

Apart from looking very individual and super, she looked as if she’d just stepped out of a trail-blazing Western film. “I refuse to spend a lot of money on clothes, I’d rather spend it on paintings. I haven’t got much money; you know I don’t earn any money in this country at all, and anyway clothes aren’t made well enough. The most I’ve ever spent on one garment is an Ossie Clark Snakeskin coat.”

“To the ground?” I queried.

“Oh yes, short clothes look terrible now, one is always inhibited about the way one sits, walks and runs down the street. I like to forget about what I’m wearing, not worrying about – are my knickers showing. It’s all right if you don’t worry, but I’ve been conditioned to worry about it.”

I sat there worrying if my knickers were showing, and feeling very butch in my short skirt.

With that, David Bailey walked in, bumping into a bounding Smudge, who rushed over to give a friendly lick.

“Bailey do you know Suzie?” Penelope introduced us and we exchanged sickly smiles. I always feel about two year old, being called Suzie, and surnames only always have a ‘God’ like ring to them. Bailey put on a record and we all listened in silence to Brute Force and his four letter word song. “That’s why it can’t be released,” Bailey explained.

I broke the magic by asking Penelope if she liked French clothes. “I hate French clothes, I hate the principle of the couturier. I used to love Yves St. Laurent clothes, only he started giving out this black thing and being in mourning for Vietnam. I think it’s the most hypocritical thing I’ve ever heard of, he doesn’t do anything about Vietnam, but make money out of it. Black’s okay if you have a figure problem. English clothes were wonderful five years ago, now they’re terrible and very expensive. Ossie Clark is the only revolutionary now, he makes pretty clothes, only they’re not particularly well made.”

“Can I quote that?” I interjected.

“Oh yes, I’ve told him so. Marshall McLuham says: ‘Fashion is a product of mass media, presenting ourselves as a showcase’. I think clothes just need to be comfortable. My wardrobe’s full of bits and pieces, I hate to throw anything away, I always think they’ll go with something. I really only wear about five things.”

I’d read she wore masses of make-up, literally painting it on every morning, but she hardly had any on.

“Oh sometimes I wear gobbs and gobbs, it just depends how depressed I feel in the morning. I think Mary Quant is best, but really best of all is stolen make-up, not stolen really but borrowed. Somebody else’s is always better than yours.

“I’m always amazed that all the individual, successful people ‘do their own thing.'” Penelope even cuts her own hair…”unless someone offers to trim it while I’m modelling”. I asked her why she wasn’t modelling in this country and she mumbled something about the tax man and then said: “I’m giving it up, I don’t want to hang about and become a has been.” Then she added much to my surprise: “I’m not in great demand. I started to write a book, then realised in the middle I didn’t really know what I was talking about; it was on the subject of Hinduism. I might go into films.”

With that Mary Quant, Alexander Plunket-Green, Bailey and Smudge came in and it looked like my interview was ended. We wandered down to the basement and spent half an hour searching for a picture of her. “Bailey hardly ever photographs me unless it’s work!” Sue Steward


Foale and Tuffin: The Exhibition

fashion and textile museum, Foale and Tuffin, personal collection

I was delighted to be at the opening of the Foale and Tuffin: Made in England exhibition at the Fashion and Textile Museum last Thursday night. F&T at the F&T, why have they not made more of this? Am I strange to find it quite cute? Perhaps…

Anyway, I sincerely hope that this exhibition (alongside the new book) will redress some of the scandalously unbalanced and limited modern views on Sixties British fashion. Foale and Tuffin completely rule over Mary Quant, no question. So there. Ner!

(How do you all like my very grown-up argument? Well I don’t want to repeat myself too much, so you can read a previous blog what I wrote way back in 2006.)

I was there in a few capacities, as it turned out, since a last minute dash (a week beforehand) ensured that a couple of my frocks ended up in the exhibition. Which is rather wonderful and I’m really rather stupidly proud. Sniff.

Firstly Natasha, which is a red plush skirt suit from the early Sixties with faux Astrakhan collar and hem. You can juuuuuuust see it in the teeny tiny photo above.

Secondly, and you’re likely to miss it because I think the gals aren’t all that fond of their work for Paraphernalia, the infamous Chrysler dress which was worn in plenty of publicity shots and footage by the magnificent Jenny ‘Juniper’ Boyd. Who was also in attendance, much to Miss Senti’s delight, looking utterly fabulous. In fact, I think she looks even more fabulous now than Pattie does. Controversial? I don’t care…

I had already met Marion and Sally a few years back (at a study day at the V&A; all the fashion students in their knock-off Topshop Bibas went swarming up to Barbara Hulanicki and Mary Quant and probably didn’t have a clue who F&T were), and then again when I rushed Natasha and Chrysler to the museum the week before, so I didn’t do my usual gibbering fangirl act that particular night. Which felt rather nice and meant I had a more relaxing evening than usual. They have been very sweet to me when I’ve met them, and seemed to like my sartorial choices, so I’m a very satisfied bunny indeed.

(Especially when I nabbed some of the chocolate ‘F’ shaped cake from Marion herself at the party, which was very, very yummy. The ‘T’ was lemon drizzle, which isn’t so much to my taste but I try not to play favourites with fashion double acts and their initial-shaped cakes…)

I should add that Miss Senti is the most extraordinarily fabulous spokesmodel a vintage dealer could ever hope for. She worked the room beautifully in a sequined top and trouser ensemble she bought from me ages ago (before we had even met in the flesh!) and generally out-sparkled everyone. We were scuppered photographically (me because my handbag was too small for my camera, and Senti by her batteries) so we didn’t get any shots of us that night. If any surface, I will be sure to post them.

There were also a few exceedingly well dressed men in the room; one in particular who managed to pick the night after I’d posted this blog to wear stripes in my presence. Wibble. But, again, I was photographically challenged and they’d have had major champagne-blur if I’d managed to take any…

Anyway, the exhibition is brilliant and, as per usual, I need to go back and have a non-champagne-addled look around. I particularly adore the way they’ve set up the ’boutique’ downstairs, but kept having to restrain myself from grabbing some frocks off the rails and running into the changing room. Yes, there’s an actual changing room. That’s just asking for trouble where I’m concerned.

Upstairs there are rails and rails of patterns, hanging behind loads of those divine Liberty print dresses they did so well in the Seventies. In fact, my only complaint would be that there were none of the notorious clown frill pieces which are absolutely by far and away my favourite F&T designs. One day I will own one, and I will wear it everywhere just to freak people out!


Stay tuned to the blog, for soon I will be reviewing the incredible new Foale and Tuffin book by Iain R. Webb and I’ve also got an incredible F&T dress coming up for sale. Oh yes!

Tops-y Turvy

Foale and Tuffin, jean varon, jeff banks, john bates, lulu, seventies fashion, website listings

I will hopefully be back to normal blog programming soon, lots to share as always, but I’m in a ‘listing zone’ right now so I’m making the most of my prolificacy. Enjoy! There’s Foale and Tuffin, Jeff Banks, Jean Varon, Lulu and a superb unlabelled 1930s crepe bolero…..scrummy!!!

Un-dress with Sally Tuffin

Foale and Tuffin, janice wainwright, loungewear, ossie clark, seventies fashion

Well I had no idea that the awesome Sally Tuffin did a range for Charnos. I know Ossie did, and I know Janice Wainwright did a range for Golden Charm, but this is a new one on me. I wantwantwant this dress.

Oh how I do love Seventies loungewear. It fits in beautifully with my dream world where I have the Hulanicki wallpaper, my Biba lightshade in use and a shagpile carpet…

Vogue. March 1973

Pimm’s and Bloggers

Foale and Tuffin, pimm's, wendyB

It was so delightful to spend the afternoon with the gorgeous bloggers (all four of them) WendyB, Sharon Rose, Samantha and Kate at Harvey Nichols today. Grumpy waiters aside. Five hours and two pitchers of Pimm’s definitely wasn’t enough, especially when I returned home to find Wendy had forgotten to tell me she likes Foale and Tuffin. Well, I could have bored for England on that subject….next time, next time.

Thank you ladies, especially to Wendy for coming over in the first place and organising it – and to Sharon Rose for the gorgeous Bus Stop blouse (which fits perfectly) and Mary Quant scarf. The former may get a debut while I’m on my Duran Duran odyssey next week. More of that in due course…

Pimm’s and Tuffin

1970s, Foale and Tuffin, pimm's, Vintage Adverts

Awww…..now I want it to be summer and to be sat blowing bubbles, wearing fab early Seventies frilly clown-like Foale and Tuffin clothes and drinking Pimm’s.

I’m blowing a big loud raspberry to winter and to my severe lack of F&T clown clothes……I wonder if saying “Pimm’s!” loudly really works?

Marit Allen RIP

1960s, Foale and Tuffin, john bates, marit allen, mary quant, ossie clark, Vogue

I can’t find any information online about it, but a friend has told me that the wonderful Marit Allen has passed away. The name might be meaningless to most of you, but she was instrumental in the careers of people like John Bates and Ossie Clark.

She worked as the ‘Young Ideas’ editor at Vogue in the mid-Sixties and her youthful approach to the clothes, styling and photographs ensured that the designs popular out on the street became widely appreciated through exposure in Vogue. She championed the young Bates, thus enabling him to continue creating the designs he had been struggling to get noticed with. Young Ideas also featured Ossie Clark’s work in the same summer that he graduated from the RCA and started working for Quorum, so Marit was certainly a visionary and true talent-spotter!

She accumulated a vast archive of pieces from the British Boutique Movement, including her wedding suit which was a Bates design, and this collection filled many gaps in the V&A’s Sixties Exhibition last year. I was ridiculously proud that my handful of pieces were being exhibited alongside hers.

She later developed a career in costume design, being designer for films like Brokeback Mountain and Thunderbirds (amongst many others).

I also had the very, VERY great pleasure of meeting her in January at a study day linked with the Sixties exhibition at the V&A. In retrospect, she was possibly the person I was the most excited about hearing speak and then meeting. And bearing in mind that Barbara Hulanicki and Foale & Tuffin were also in attendance, well that’s saying something about my respect for Marit.

It was so lovely to hear her talk about her experiences and views on the era, with photographs and thoughts on the designers. I had begun to think that the day would pass by with no mention of John Bates’ contribution to British fashion but, as in the Boutique book by Marnie Fogg, Marit sought to emphasize his talent and defend his forgotten claim to have been the first designer to really ‘do’ the mini skirt. And with Mary Quant herself in attendance, it was a brave move. The talk was only too brief, most frustrating that it was curtailed to keep the timing of the day and give Mary Quant more time to witter on about her make-up range and how she ‘invented’ the duvet cover (I kid ye not). I wanted to listen to Marit forever, and to see all her photos and hear all her experiences.

Thankfully I summoned up the courage to speak with her afterwards. I somehow found myself turning around to face her, and realised this was my big chance. We chatted a little about Bates, I told her about my collection and how grateful I was that she had mentioned him (we agreed he was a very underrated talent) and about how unlikely it was that such a boom time in British fashion would ever happen again. Mainly due to the cost of clothing production and shop rental in London.

Now, even more than before, I’m so glad I had those brief few moments speaking with her. I am so in awe of her talent and vision and, in a week where we’ve also lost the wondrous TV producer Verity Lambert, the world is a much gloomier place without these pioneering women.

Above and Right: Two photos from Marit’s Young Ideas section of Vogue. John Bates designs from 1965 above and Twiggy in Foale and Tuffin from 1967 on the right.

Fashion Icon of the Moment: Françoise Hardy

1960s, british boutique movement, fashion icon of the moment, Foale and Tuffin, Françoise Hardy, Paco Rabanne


Françoise Hardy – Lank Haired Goddess
‘Another pouting French goddess??’, I hear you cry? Françoise Hardy is a cut above your average though. An extraordinarily talented singer and songwriter, Françoise charmed audiences throughout Europe in the Sixties. With her long, heavily fringed brown hair and youthful ‘ye ye’ music style, she was quite a radical figure on the French music scene along with Serge Gainsbourgh and her future husband, Jacques Dutronc.


Her style developed from slightly mousey, minimalist Parisian girl to a proper Swinging Sixties Chick who wore clothes by the likes of Foale and Tuffin and Paco Rabanne. She’s also managed to grow old gracefully, and remains a stunningly beautiful, elegant woman. Françoise Hardy, we salute you!

Foale and Tuffin

1960s, barbara hulanicki, british boutique movement, carnaby street, Foale and Tuffin, gerald mccann, john bates, mary quant, personal collection, yves saint laurent

What baffles me is the inverse ratio between the rarity of Foale and Tuffin, and the prices they command. I think Marion Foale and Sally Tuffin were arguably a greater talent than Mary Quant. And they certainly knew when to call it quits and draw back gracefully from the fashion world (they both ‘retired’ in 1973 to spend more time with their families). Licensing? They wouldn’t have dreamed of it. Yes, MQ, I’m looking at you in your waterproof poncho – don’t think I can’t see you! 😉

Their early work was vibrant, youthful, fun and always exquisitely tailored. They originated trouser suits for women (yet another creative theft by Yves Saint Laurent ensured they rarely get credited for this – more rantings on him some other time…), used the ‘op art’ trend in a quirky way (rather like my other passion, John Bates) and helped build the Carnaby Street image – the driving force behind the emergence of Britain as a world leader in fashion.

They moved easily into the softer look of the late 60s and early 70s, continuing to favour Liberty prints and did all sorts of lovely frilled and flared things. In retrospect, their decision to quit in 1973 seems really rather intelligent. The mid-late 70s saw the crash and burn phenomenon of so many designers, Ossie Clark and Barbara Hulanicki at Biba being the most notable casualties. So they got out at the right time.

Their work is fairly rare. Goodness only knows why, you can hardly miss the label! They were a popular fixture in Vogue and a big part of the Youthquake British Invasion of the USA in 1965.

Two Foales from my private collection. 1963 and 1965 respectively.

However, in recent months (after loudly bemoaning the non-existence of ANY F&T pieces in my personal collection) I seem to have accumulated a nice little collection of their work. I still sit here, look at the frocks and think; “How the HECK did I manage that?”. I have my limits as to how much I will pay for pieces for my collection, it’s just that the prices have been shockingly low for what they are. Even the recent Kerry Taylor auctions sale for Sothebys sold two Foale and Tuffin frocks (early 70s) for the opening bid of £100. I recall one of the major US auction houses sold two Foales not that long ago for a similar price.

So, while I can’t complain on a personal level that the prices aren’t really reflecting the rarity and beauty of their work – it does seem utterly wrong. Mary Quant’s work is fairly cheap these days – especially considering her cultural importance. But F&T didn’t license their names to death. So in reality, they should be making a whole lot more.

Just a little rant. I feel much the same way about Gerald McCann. I guess I’ll just have to keep collecting these labels rather than selling them! *sigh*