Living up to a reputation

1970s, Alice Ormsby-Gore, amanda lear, Asha Puthli, bill gibb, british boutique movement, christopher mcdonnell, frederick fox, ika hindley, Inspirational Images, jean muir, jean varon, joanna lumley, john bates, mary quant, pat cleveland, Sally McLaughlan, telegraph magazine, Terence Donovan, The Sunday Telegraph Magazine, zandra rhodes

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.

Zandra Rhodes originally trained as a textile designer; she began designing clothes in 1968. She does not have her own retail shop; her fabulous creations are made to order and sell through the big stores. “I think fashion in London is like a sea with lots of little islands, lots of different looks. I am my own couture island,” she says. “I don’t like committing myself to any one collection. I like adding to it as my ideas come along.” Pat Cleveland, top American model, is wearing Zandra’s “off-the-shoulder lily dress” .of printed grey and cream chiffon with satin-backed bodice and embroidery. From Piero de Monzi, 70 Fulham Road, SW3.
Mary Quant, photographed with her husband Alexander Plunkett-Green, became famous in 1955 when she opened the first “Bazaar” shop in the King’s Road, Chelsea. Now her business includes linen, make-up, tights and dolls as well as clothes, all bearing the unmistakable Quant touch. Of current London fashion she says: “I think the mood is classic, and I love it.” Amanda, a model who typifies Mary’s look, wears trousers, striped pullover and co-ordinating jacket, all in an angora and polyester mixture, and a pure silk shirt. Mary chose this outfit because “it is the epitome of my new collection -the best of everything. Modern classics in the right colours, subtle soft fabrics, elegance, chic – the sort of outfit you want to live in.” From Mary Quant’s new autumn collection, available in September.
Designer Jean Muir with Harry Lockart, her husband and business manager. She started the firm which bears her name in 1966; her distinctive clothes are available at all the major stores. Says Harry Lockart: “The London fashion scene has tremendous potential and on the design side is moving marvellously. It must need organising very professionally along Paris lines, with proper collection weeks, at times that do not clash, so that buyers can see everything.” Joanna Lumley is wearing an olive green two-tiered silk jersey dress described by Jean as “one of my favourites”. About £75 from Lucienne Phillips, 69 Knightsbridge, SW3, or Brown’s, South Molton Street, W1 . Jade necklace by Jean Muir, £15. Shoes, £24, by Charles Jourdan, 47 Brompton Road, SW3. Tights, Elle.
Designer John Bates (left) with John Siggins, Director who handles Publicity, Press and External Contracts. John Bates started the firm of Jean Varon in 1959; he thinks that “fashion in London is no different from anywhere else; but it is only just recently that it has been taken seriously”. Kellie, who is one of John Bates’s favourite models, is wearing a Tricel surah dress in a print by Sally McLaughlan exclusive to John Bates. About £55 from Dickins & Jones, Regent Street, W1 ; Barkers, Kensing-ton High Street, W8; Bentalls of Kingston; Kendal Milne of Manchester. Hat made to order by Frederick Fox, 26 Brook Street, W1.
Christopher McDonnell started his career early in 1967 and now sells his designs at his famous shop in South Molton Street. He thinks London is the most exciting place for evening wear, “but until the factories learn how to cope technically with good ideas for day clothes, the rest of Europe will remain ahead of us in this field.” The model is Ika, who, says Christopher, can interpret any look. She is wearing a cream silk suit with short skirt, £33 from Christopher McDonnell, 45 South Molton Street, W1 . White silk turban £9.50 from George Malyard, 3 King Street, WI. Bangles and choker from Emeline, 45 Beauchamp Place, SW3.
Designer Bill Gibb started out on his own in 1969 and was voted “Designer of the Year” in 1970. He now has a wholesale firm, and in fashion feels that “everybody makes a different sort of contribution”. Asha Puthli, singer and actress is wearing a peach double satin jacket and halter top embroidered and edged with black leather, and Lurex pleated skirt. About £200 from Chic of Hampstead, Heath Street, NW3, or Chases, Bond Street, Wl. Shoes £14.95 by Chelsea Cobbler, 33 Sackville Street, W1 . Tights by Echo. Alice Ormsby-Gore is wearing a plain and printed grey Lurex skirt and sequin embroidered top, £128. Turban by Diane Logan to order. All from Lucienne Phillips, or ZigZag, 100 New Bond Street, Wl. Shoes £14.95 from Chelsea Cobbler. Tights by Echo.

Odyssey

1970s, bill gibb, David Wolfe, fortnum and mason, Illustrations, Inspirational Images, jean muir, Uncategorized, Vogue, zandra rhodes

odyssey

Come, your fashion Odyssey begins at Fortnum & Mason. There, at imagination’s edge find a trio of unique designers .. . Jean Muir, Zandra Rhodes and Bill Gibb Their views, alien to everything mundane. Their clothes, un-alike and unlike any others All three at “Odyssey”, the great new fashion adventure at Fortnum & Mason, i81 Piccadilly, London, W.1.

Illustrated by David Wolfe.

Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, December 1970.

Inspirational Editorials: The Greeks have a look for it…

1970s, british boutique movement, chelsea cobbler, david bailey, Inspirational Images, jean muir, liberty's, manolo blahnik, Marcel Fenez, mary quant, roland klein, susan small, Vogue, zapata

Left: Fluid white Celon jersey twisted round the neck, falling through an embroidered belt in turquoise and tangerine. By Susan Small. Silver and gold shoes by Richard Smith for Chelsea Cobbler. Right: Devonshire cream chamois halter top, sashed over skirt of creamy wool sunray pleats by Jean Muir. Shoes in Liberty Tana Lawn by Manolo Blahnik for Zapata.

Left: Fluid white Celon jersey twisted round the neck, falling through an embroidered belt in turquoise and tangerine. By Susan Small. Silver and gold shoes by Richard Smith for Chelsea Cobbler. Right: Devonshire cream chamois halter top, sashed over skirt of creamy wool sunray pleats by Jean Muir. Shoes in Liberty Tana Lawn by Manolo Blahnik for Zapata.

Photographed by Bailey.

Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, March 1972.

Navy chiffon pleats, sashed with navy ribbon, by Roland Klein at Marcel Fenez. Black leather shoes by Mary Quant.

Navy chiffon pleats, sashed with navy ribbon, by Roland Klein at Marcel Fenez. Black leather shoes by Mary Quant.

Barbershop Quintet: When the teasing had to stop

1970s, bill gibb, Brenda Arnaud, britt ekland, Diane Logan, Fenella Fielding, Geg Germany, Gina Fratini, hair, Hair and make-up, jean muir, joan collins, joanna lumley, john bates, leonard, marianne faithfull, Michaeljohn, Ricci Burns, Shirley Russell, telegraph magazine, vidal sassoon

hairdressers geg germany telegraph magazine september 19th 1975 e

In the Fifties a trip to the hairdresser’s was a daunting ordeal – for you and for each hair on your head. Vidal Sassoon changed all that in 1964, and substituted the welcome breeziness of the blow-drying second-generation stylists. Who are the other top hairdresses, and who goes to them?

There are no credits for the clothes, but I think Marianne’s glorious ensemble must be a Bill Gibb, and Sian Phillips’s elegant coat looks like a John Bates to me. Such a glorious array of celebs, I think Michaeljohn win on numbers (but Ricci Burns really ought to win, purely because of the way his ladies are dressed!).

Photographed by Geg Germany.

Scanned by Miss Peelpants from The Telegraph Magazine, September 19th 1975

At Ricci Burns: Marianne Faithfull, Fenella Fielding, Ricci Burns, Sian Phillips, Brenda Arnaud. Ricci started in hairdressing at the age of 15, worked for Vidal Sassoon for ten years and opened his own salon in the King's Road five years ago. Now has a second salon in George Street, and did have one in Marrakesh "until the coup, darling".

At Ricci Burns: Marianne Faithfull, Fenella Fielding, Ricci Burns, Sian Phillips, Brenda Arnaud. Ricci started in hairdressing at the age of 15, worked for Vidal Sassoon for ten years and opened his own salon in the King’s Road five years ago. Now has a second salon in George Street, and did have one in Marrakesh “until the coup, darling”.

At Vidal Sassoon: Lady Russell (back), Mary Quant, Vidal Sassoon and Kate Nelligan (centre). Shirley (Mrs Ken) Russell, Beverly Sassoon.

At Vidal Sassoon: Lady Russell (back), Mary Quant, Vidal Sassoon and Kate Nelligan (centre). Shirley (Mrs Ken) Russell, Beverly Sassoon.

At Michaeljohn: Back row, from left: Jean Muir, Britt Ekland, Joanna Lumley, Joan Collins and her daughter Sasha, Tom Gilbey, Gina Fratini and Diane Logan. Front: John Isaacs and Michael Rasser (one time colleagues at Leonard), who started Michaeljohn in 1967.

At Michaeljohn: Back row, from left: Jean Muir, Britt Ekland, Joanna Lumley, Joan Collins and her daughter Sasha, Tom Gilbey, Gina Fratini and Diane Logan. Front: John Isaacs and Michael Rasser (one time colleagues at Leonard), who started Michaeljohn in 1967.

At Figurehead: George Britnell, proprietor, with clients (from left) Catherine Parent, Kari Lai, Lady Charles Spencer Churchill, Tessa Kennedy, Lady Charlotte Anne Curzon. This is the newest salon of them all - it opened in Pont Street this year.

At Figurehead: George Britnell, proprietor, with clients (from left) Catherine Parent, Kari Lai, Lady Charles Spencer Churchill, Tessa Kennedy, Lady Charlotte Anne Curzon. This is the newest salon of them all – it opened in Pont Street this year.

At the Cadogan Club: (from left to right) Ariana Stassinopolos, Rachel Roberts, Moira Lister, Patricia Millbourn and Aldo Bigozzi (partners), Katie Boyle, Joan Benham and Annette Andre.

At the Cadogan Club: (from left to right) Ariana Stassinopolos, Rachel Roberts, Moira Lister, Patricia Millbourn and Aldo Bigozzi (partners), Katie Boyle, Joan Benham and Annette Andre.

The Best of British Boutique

1960s, 1970s, biba, bill gibb, british boutique movement, catherine buckley, celia birtwell, frank usher, Gina Fratini, jean muir, jean varon, jeff banks, john bates, ossie clark, twiggy, wallis, website listings

Bill Gibb

Bill Gibb

There are new listings-a-plenty over at Vintage-a-Peel, with some of the biggest and brightest names in British fashion from the Sixties and Seventies. Ossie Clark, Bill Gibb, John Bates, Jeff Banks, Twiggy, Gina Fratini, Jean Muir, Catherine Buckley… plus some beautiful modernist jewellery to go with it!

Ossie Clark

Ossie Clark

Twiggy Boutique

Twiggy Boutique

Peter Barron

Peter Barron

Biba

Biba

John Bates for Jean Varon

John Bates for Jean Varon

Moda of Malta

Moda of Malta

Frank Usher

Frank Usher

Unsigned

Unsigned

Jeff Banks

Jeff Banks

Jean Muir

Jean Muir

Gina Fratini

Gina Fratini

Wallis Shops

Wallis Shops

Unsigned

Unsigned

Catherine Buckley

Catherine Buckley

Inspirational Images: Gauchos

1970s, Bellini, british boutique movement, chelsea girl, gauchos, Inspirational Images, jean muir, Kaffe Fassett, Nigel Lofthouse, norman parkinson, Veronica Marsh, Vogue

Needlepoint waistcoat by Kaffe Fassett for Beatrice Bellini, £25 to order, Women's Home Industries' Tapestry Shop. Suede gauchos, fine jersey shirt, both by JEan Muir. Perspex belt by Nigel Lofthouse for Jean Muir. Chillies Christel at Elliott. Panne velvet muffler by Veronica Marsh for Jacqmar.

Needlepoint waistcoat by Kaffe Fassett for Beatrice Bellini, £25 to order, Women’s Home Industries’ Tapestry Shop. Suede gauchos, fine jersey shirt, both by Jean Muir. Perspex belt by Nigel Lofthouse for Jean Muir. Ghillies by Christel at Elliott. Panne velvet muffler by Veronica Marsh for Jacqmar.

Gauchos remain one of my favourite looks at the moment. Indeed, I am wearing a pair of tweed Chelsea Girl gauchos as I write this. It’s one of those looks which will, inevitably, make a comeback, and I will be tiresomely reminding people that ‘I was doing it ages ago!’. As it is, I am just continuing to enjoy wearing them, enjoying the curiousity and comments, and educating people to call them ‘gauchos’ rather than ‘culottes’. Then I will just have to move onto knickerbockers…

Photographed by Norman Parkinson.

Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, September 1970

Model Daughters

1960s, british boutique movement, celia hammond, christopher mcdonnell, gerald mccann, Guy Cross, Hylette Adolphe, Inspirational Images, jean muir, marrian mcdonnell, paulene stone, Sandra Paul, Sarah Stuart, simon massey, telegraph magazine, Vanessa Frye, wallis, Worth

celia hammond

Celia Hammond with Mrs Hammond. Born in Indonesia. Says she was ‘quite plump’ when she first walked into Lucy Clayton’s. “I started losing weight when I stopped worrying about it.” Confesses that she’s been in modelling so long that these days the money is the main attraction.

Celia’s dress by Jean Muir

Photographed by Guy Cross.  Scanned by Miss Peelpants from The Daily Telegraph Magazine, November 22nd 1968.

Hylette Adophe

Hylette Adolphe with Mrs Terese Adolphe. Born in Mauritius, convent-educated. Finds modelling “very hard and a bit depressing, but on the whole quite nice.” Recently in Corfu, where she had to learn to ride a Roman chariot for a German swimwear ad. Found it “quite terrifying”.

Hylette’s dress by Hylan Brooker to order from Worth Related Couture.

paulene stone

Paulene Stone with Mrs Sylvia Stone. After leaving school with six O-levels, she won a competition in a women’s magazine, part of the prize being a modelling course. She says she always wanted to be a model. “Apparently, I was always talking about it when I was a little girl.”

Pauline’s outfit by Simon Massey at Wallis.

sandra paul

Sandra Paul with Mrs Rosalie Paul. Born in Malta, where her father was an RAF doctor. Decided against going to university and instead she took a course at Lucy Clayton’s. Says about modelling that “in a funny way you enjoy it the more experienced and adaptable you become.”

Sandra’s dress by Marrian-McDonnell

Sarah Stuart

Sarah Stuart with Mrs Croker Poole. Born in India, Sarah Stuart was educated in England and Paris (“no make-up lessons; we worked hard at French, history and commerce”). Took up modelling when her marriage broke up. Says it’s hard work – “getting up early, packing heavy cases…”

Sarah’s trouser suit by Gerald McCann at Vanessa Frye.

Inspirational Illustrations: Jean Muir, 1969

1960s, 1970s, David Wolfe, fortnum and mason, Harpers Bazaar, Illustrations, Inspirational Images, jean muir, Vintage Adverts

muir bazaar oct 1969

Jean Muir thinks… then designs… and creates a fashion role of pure allure. Enter the Intellectual Seductress. Panther-like grace in a long, lean look. Colours sombre, yet potent, slithered clotsely over the body. Eve, circa 1970, wittily playing serpentine print against the real thing.

Illustrated by David Wolfe. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers Bazaar, October 1969

Inspirational Editorials: The Fairest of Them All

1970s, annacat, biba, caroline baker, chelsea cobbler, Gina Fratini, Inspirational Images, jean muir, jean-loup sieff, nova magazine, Vintage Editorials

Jean Muir

Dress by Jean Muir

Impossibly beautiful editorial, even if it is touching on the rather unpleasant subject of narcissism. There are a few images from this which have been reproduced many times, but these others less so – so I thought I would give them a well-deserved airing here.

Photographed by Jeanloup Sieff. Styled by Caroline Baker. Make-up and nails by Biba.

Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Nova, March 1972

Gina Fratini

Sun top (matching trousers not shown) and headress by Gina Fratini

Annacat. Shoes by Chelsea Cobbler.

Blouse by Annacat. Shoes by Chelsea Cobbler.

Zandra Rhodes

Tunic and knee-length skirt by Zandra Rhodes

Gina Fratini

Tunic and shorts by Gina Fratini

Jean Muir

Chiffon dress with matching short bloomer-knickers by Jean Muir

Nice Girls Do

1970s, Inspirational Images, jean muir, ossie clark, peter robinson, vanity fair

nice girls do

Note the Peter Robinson bag on the floor (Peter Robinson was the progenitor of Topshop)

I recently picked up this phenomenal booklet which came free with Vanity Fair magazine in 1971. Entitled ‘Nice Girls Do’, it is supposedly intended to be a guide to modern life for young women confused by the new sexual revolution and women’s liberation. With a few gorgeous inspirational images thrown in for good measure. It’s also a brilliant insight into the mindset of the early Seventies woman, but also not really a million miles away from such small-minded, hypocritical women’s journalism now. Plus ça change

nice girls do 3

Here is a small excerpt relating to fashion:

Dress and Undress

Talk about liberation! Suddenly all the old rules of dress have been suspended. Unisex, the Great Pants Revolution, ten million boots marching across the nation, and the great unleashing of bras have swept a century of fuss and fogginess onto the junk heap.

Once the strictures were clear as crystal, hats for church and town, gloves always, no bare legs on nice girls—ever, girdles an absolute must, trousers strictly for the country, and still only for the young. Now nurses and bank clerks wear trousersuits, patrician matrons dine in transparent pyjamas, and women of ‘a certain age’ boldly appear in black body-stockings and ammunition belts. Alas, it’s easy to become a laughing stock unless you have innate style. There is still one rule: propriety. That means wear what’s right for you and what’s right for what you are going to do. Everything you put on should polish your assets like sterling and blur your flaws like camouflage.

‘Look for the woman in the dress’ was a favourite theme of the late Coco Chanel. ‘If there is no woman, there is no dress.’ And . . . ‘In love, what counts is to please a man,’ Coco liked to say. ‘If it pleases him, paint yourself green.’

Dress to please the man in your life. But don’t overdo it. Dressing for a man doesn’t mean dragging him to your favourite stores to make him choose what he likes on you. It means you wear what makes you look appealing and avoid the chaff. Men can be drearily conservative. They resist change and need to be lured to a new look or a new length, slowly and gradually. Stay aware and try.

The man who falls all over the giggly brunette with the pop-up bosom or the naked tummy or the shortest shorts in the room will want to fade into the wallpaper if you —his adored— appear in the same costume. Be careful . . . even if you happen to be in better trim than Miss Pop-Up Bosom.

Go with fashion, but don’t sell yourself into fashion slavery. Twelve girls at the same film premiere in velvet knickerbockers, identical bullet belts, and fringed boots are pathetic. You, in the same panné velvet knickerbockers but with a suede belt and an old art-nouveau buckle, are infinitely more interesting. Style is individual. It’s what you do with fashion to make it yours alone! When everyone in your crowd is rigged up like a strolling gypsy or Moroccan princess, do not underestimate the power of sleek black simplicity.

Not every new style will suit you, but somewhere there is a proportion cut just for you. Impossible, you say: Aha. You’re in serious trouble and need to shed twenty pounds. Quick.

A dress you can’t move or cuddle in without worrying about moulting feathers or splitting a seam is a disaster . . . no matter how divine it looked in Vanity Fair. Give it away and avoid others with similar faults. You’re going to be a grouch all evening if that groovy buckle digs into  your rib cage with every breath. Choose clothes you feel relaxed wearing.

Nothing can ruin your day more efficiently than a shoe that pinches, rubs, and digs. You can read the pain plain as yoghurt on your face. If the glass slipper doesn’t slip on easily in mid-afternoon when your feet are most vulnerable . . . forget it. You can’t break in a shoe . . . it only breaks you with pain and wasted cash.

Avoid the Grooming Gloom

1. A close lit is no fit at all. A good alteration lady is your third best friend (after Mother and the hairdresser).

2. Clean underwear every day.

3. If you hate to wash and iron, don’t buy clothes that need it. (I didn’t own an iron until a friend —considering me a poverty case— passed one along three months ago. I haven’t used it yet). But you will need a large budget for cleaning bills. If you don’t have money, learn to wash and iron and avoid buying clothes that must be cleaned!

4. It’s a little rip . . . sew it now. Hoard extra buttons when you find ones you like.

5. Weed out the inevitable flaw: snagged stockings, pulled threads, a spot of tomato juice on your doeskin glove, a rip in the lining of your handsome ostrich handbag. Repair it before you wear it again . . . or give it away.

6. Prune the cupboard mercilessly. Don’t drag rejects with you the rest of your life . . . if you haven’t worn an item in two years (a decade?), discard it. Clean it, and donate it to a charity.

How Do You Know What’s Right for You

A lot of the most ghastly mistakes were made when women were encouraged to do their own thing. It’s one thing to have didactic fashion laws arbitrarily laid down by a toffy-nosed fashion magazine not geared to your way of life; it’s quite another to be let loose on a bewildering range of styles and left to your own devices. A great sense of style and chic is needed to steer through that morass.

1. Study yourself in a leotard betore a well-lit, full-length mirror. If this experience drives you to drink . . . vow to re—form your form.

2. Who are you ? What are you trying to say about yourself? What is your image ? Are you playing a romantic Ali MacGraw? Or a carefree groupie? Are you a girl with her eye on Mary Quant’s throne? Are you a lean drink of spring water or a bubbly dolly bird or a languorous sensualist? Decide! Then you will develop antennae that tell you when gingham is right and where a monkey-fur fringe is definitely excessive.

3. Decide whose style you admire or consider close to your ideal. Analyse what this paragon has done and be inspired . . . don’t imitate blindly.

4. lf you see someone wearing an item you absolutely must have—even a total stranger on a bus—say so and ask where she bought it. Don’t ask the price.

5. Read the fashion magazines. Out of the wild and exaggerated fancy there is a message: brown is great for summer . . . length doesn’t really matter anymore . . . superstructured underpinnings are dead. Especially note the accessories: bags, belts, gloves, jewels, hats.

6. If you find a store that pleases you, make it your hang-out. Loyalty is rewarded. When you stumble across a salesgirl with taste and energy, pursue her. Call to see if she’s on hand before you venture across town on a shopping spree. Ask her to telephone you when she has something just your style . . . or when that Cardin coat you’ve been sighing over is reduced 20 per cent.

7. If you are one of those indecisive creatures who cannot tell whether a dress with pleats and flounces in shrimp crépe is as good as it sounds till it’s hung on the cupboard door at home for a week, then never never buy clothes marked ‘final sale’ or ‘not returnable.’

8. Learn about fabrics, seams, and construction. Go to fashion shows and try on a dress by Jean Muir or Ossie Clark so you’ll get a feeling for what makes a £70 shirtwaister different from a £7 one.

9. If you find a bra or panty or shoe that’s ideal for you . . . tights that are like a second skin . . . a ribbed polo sweater that makes you feel like Jeanne Moreau, buy in quantity. That’s what Jacqueline Onassis does. Even on your budget, it makes sense. If you wait until you need replacements, the style or colour may no longer exist . . .

A Sampler of Specifics

Q. Is it better to put all my money into one status Gucci handbag or buy half a dozen bags for different occasions ?

A. A recognisably fine bag has great impact and lasts ages. But it really won’t go everywhere. Invest in the quality leather as your mainstay. And then collect for pennies—a larger canvas tote bag, an old doctor’s satchel (from a junk shop), a small wicker basket or champagne wicker tied tight with a bandanna hanky, an Oriental brass box from an antique shop, a denim over·the-shoulder newsboy bag you make yourself.

Q. Are there any rigid fashion rules that still count these days?

A. Yes. White for tennis (unless you’re playing on your own court at home) and plimsolls. Warmth for skiing, hunting, cold-weather sailing—if you neglect warmth for chic you’ll ruin your day and everyone else’s as well. Rubber-soled shoes for yachting, preferably those with a special-grip rubber bottom. Rules for formal riding and the hunt are specific: visit a shop that specialises in riding clothes and do what they tell you.

Q. Must I wear a hat to church?

A. Women should wear hats in Roman Catholic churches and Orthodox synagogues. And many women do wear a hat to church even where it is not a must, But today a laoe mantilla or a bit of veiling is considered ‘hat enough.’ No woman should ever let lack of hair covering keep her from entering a church on impulse for a few moments of meditation. Attitude is more important than a hat. And anyway, hats are back. I couldn’t live without my giant wolf beret that covers my ears in winter or half a dozen felt and straw cowboy hats in spring and summer. You need to learn clever scarf tricks for your head, a flattering all-over hat for days when your hair just doesn’t cooperate.

Q. Is it right for a divorcee to wear her wedding and engagement rings? Mine are so beautiful.

A. Do you really want a constant reminder of the past? Why not have the stones reset into a marvellous ring you can wear on your index finger or, if you’re not the type, something smashing for your little finger.

Q. Where can l go to find out what to wear at a Bar Mitzvah?

A. A standard etiquette book will tell you what dress is expected at weddings, funerals, and other ceremonies of life. Or you might phone the women’s page editor of your local paper and ask advice.

Things That Are Out

Your sweet little lace blouse worn one day too many.

Tell-tale-grey nylon underwear (tint it purple or red or espresso brown).

Structural safety pins.

Wrinkles, spots, baggy anything, runs, rundown heels.

Shoes clearly beyond their prime.

A handbag that had it two years ago, still ‘making do’.

Festive party gear in the office.

Ruffles when you are much more the slinky jersey type.

Too-big coats and shoddy tailoring.

Superclunk shoes.

Ice-cream-cone bosoms.

Bulges . . . panties that bind and show-through.

Drooping hems . . . make a fast temporary repair with sticky tape, then sew that very evening.

Baby-doll costumes on women over thirty-five unless you have the figure and complexion of a twenty-year-old.

See-through blouse with a utilitarian bra in full view.

Clothes you’ve hopefully squeezed into and kidded yourself you can wear. Try one size up —you’ll look slimmer, and every hook and eye on your bra won’t be visible at ten paces.

Anything that looks like it’s wearing you.

Itsy-bitsy fragile little jewellery. If you can’t afford knock-out jewellery in 18-carat gold, buy some smashing fakery.

Last year’s rejects or rotting nightgowns as at-home clothes . . . give the family a break.

Toting an adorable Lilliputian evening bag and loading your man’s pockets with survival paraphernalia . . . learn to survive on less.

Undress

Undressing for an audience is a sadly neglected art. Too many women just peel everything off with no thought to the effect . . . rudely tossing crumpled garments here and there . . . and then slopping around in an abused and mutilated housecoat.

Men hate to see you in the bedroom clumping about in high-heeled day shoes and bare feet. Most of them prefer you to take your bra off before your pants. Practise doing it quickly, gracefully, and if he’s in a mood for being teased—tease him. Let him see you in a lacy slip you know flatters you. Don’t wear superstructured bras or girdles. Let him catch a glimpse of you through an open door, spotless bare back, creamed gleamy skin, brushing your hair or spraying yourself with scent just for him. It arouses him to know you want him.

America’s COSMOPOLITAN once ran a wise little article about ‘How to Strip for Your Husband.’ Tassels and twelve-button gloves are not necessary. But attractive undressing, sensuous underpinnings, and flattering, fresh at-home wear is kind to your audience—that one special person.

nice girls do 2

More from ‘Nice Girls Do’ some other time…