
Photographed by Barry Lategan.
Scanned from Vogue, May 1974.



Photographed by Barry Lategan.
Scanned from Vogue, May 1974.
The clothes of the Thirties were capricious, narcissistic and extravagant — the jazz of the Twenties turning soft, like swing – but with the wartime Forties they necessarily became austere and functional.
To compensate, the details kept their extravagance – shirred waists, sweetheart necks, floppy sleeves, Veronica Lake hair.
On this and the following pages we have a minor Forties revival – minor because these clothes are strictly 1968, when women want to dress both practically and frivolously.
I do not endorse this copy, because I would not agree about the clothes of the Thirties being ‘narcissistic’, but I do endorse the photos and the clothes.
Photographed by Helmut Newton.
Scanned from Queen, July 31st 1968.
Satin crepe de chine tie neck dress and chequered over jacket by Anne Tyrrell at John Marks. Suede shoes by Mondaine.
When it comes to dressing up tonight there’s no such thing as a party line. Redheads come into their own with sleek Garboesque hairdos to set off shiny battledress tops and trousers. Jazzily printed crepe de chine dresses and jackets mix with jersey and velvet, softly innocent or dangerously backless and halternecked. Diamante remains the vital accessory – shining in the hair as well as sprinkled on bodices. The choice is yours and glamour the mood.
Photographed by John Carter.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Flair, December 1971
Cream jersey top and matching skirt by Mary Quant
Both dresses by Harriet
Liberty print cotton blouses and skirts, both by Courchevel. Choker by Ken Lane. Suede bar shoes by Russell & Bromley.
Pleated cotton voile horseman print dress by Thea Porter. Gilt and mock turquoise belt by Ken Lane.
Left: Dress by Reflections at Reldan. Right: Jersey dress by Baltrik.
Left: Ban-lon halterneck dress by Wallis. Right: Brown crepe de chine dress by Annacat.
Black jersey dress by Polly Peck. Inset: Jersey dress by Baltrik. Shoes by Russell & Bromley.
Black satin battledress jacket and trousers by Juliet Dunn.
Grey and red short wooly jackets by Elgee.
Fringed black shawl from Emmerton and Lambert.
Grey wool flannel full length cape by Christopher McDonnell for Marrian-McDonnell.
Ladylike white silk shirtdress by Salvador. Coffee coloured goatskin bag from Harrods. Pure silk lace jersey scarfed turban by Frederick Fox. White sunglasses by Oliver Goldsmith. Ivory heart and ivory and gold cross on chains by Ken Lane.
Photographed by Clive Arrowsmith.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers and Queen, February 1975.
Fire red paisley for a Celtic summer: The haunted house at Parc, near Afon Crosesor, where ghostly things happen all the time. Wild red flickering skirt, paisley and red gold organdie blouse with gold Turkish bodice. Skirt, blouse and top to order from Thea Porter. Fire red boots by Elliott. Sash pin from Ken Lane. Amber beads ,wrist scarf and long red scarf by Ascher.
Photographed by Norman Parkinson.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, July 1969.
Photographed by Sarah Moon. Styled by Cherry Twiss. Hair by Carita Salon.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from The Daily Telegraph Magazine, November 14th 1969
Skinny cardigan in boucle acrylic by Lee Bender at Bus Stop. Ring from Kutchinsky. Gold ring by Ken Lane.
Left to right: White crepe bolero and trousers by Gina Fratini. White shoes by Kurt Geiger / Satin trousers and matching chiffon top in print by Celia Birtwell, both by Ossie Clark at Quorum. Red leather shoes by Chrystal of Copenhagen. / Black silk organza shirt and trousers in Bianchini’s black silk organza flocked with velvet, both from Thea Porter. Cord belt from Piero de Monzi. Wide jewelled belt and double chain and green stone belt from Ken Lane. Black satin shoes by Kirt Geiger. / Black cire trouser suit from The Fulham Road Clothes Shop. Black leather boots by The Chelsea Cobbler. Black and cream silk scarf from Thea Porter
Everyone is tired of hearing that the mini skirt is on the way out.
Nearly as tired as when they heard it was on the way in.
These things in fashion die a very slow death,
but in this case one reason has been the lack of alternative.
Designers made too great a leap with the maxi,
and too indefinite a move with the midi.
After extremely short skirts,
something flapping around mid calves did feel extremely frumpish.
This was tied in with the fact that no boot manufacturers at
that time were making them with high enough heels,
essential with a longer skirt,
and it was very difficult to find feminine unclumpy
shoes which gave enough of a lift.
Now footwear is changing.
Boots are tall and beautifully fitting.
l-ligh-heeled shoes — very high — are pretty,
well proportioned and extremely flattering.
And so one branch of fashion may well be influencing another.
ln the end everything is a matter of proportions.
When skirts went up, heels came down.
The high stilettos we used to hobble around in so painfully,
not really that long ago,
looked far too tarty with hemlines halfway up the thigh and even
worse with trousers, especially tight ones.
Since most women feel their legs to be too short,
and the wearing of the heel as very necessary to a feeling of femininity,
this cancelled out the wearing of trousers for a very large number.
Until a short time ago trousers were being worn by,.
apart from men of course,
women who looked like men — that is, girls with no curves.
Lean hips. Long legs — in flat shoes.
Now for the first time comes the alternative to the mini skirt. Trousers.
That is, until hemlines decide exactly how far they will drop.
As drop they will.
Footwear has helped provide the solution.
It will comfort many to know that the models in the
pictures which follow, averaging 32″-35″ hips, still have
to choose, very carefully, shapes which suit them.
Their legs are long but still need the added inches that a high
heel gives them. Their shapes are slim, but female.
Still sometimes round enough to need the camouflage of a long jacket,
cardigan or tunic. They show that closely fitting
trousers can be sexier and will also make you look fatter.
They show that a small waist is made smaller by a high
cut rather than a hipster style.
Most of the trousers for evening lit well over the hips but flare out
in a very feminine, flattering way.
They are glittery, shiny, and see-through.
Beautiful in fact; better than ever before.
Alas, now that mini skirts are accepted just about everywhere.
we have to warn that trousers, for women that is, aren’t.
An appalling number of top London hotels
still hold fast to outdated rules about them.
Officially they are not allowed in, even to drink,
let alone to dine or to have lunch.
ln the Dorchester they can’t even have tea!
In the Mirabelle: Ofhcially, trousers are not admitted.
The question does not arise much at lunch—tirne
as there are never very many women there.
ln the evening the rule has now been relaxed and you
would be permitted to dine in trousers.
Talk of the Town: Certainly you may wear trousers.
Savoy: They now allow very dressy evening trousers in public rooms
but no daytime trousers at all.
Wearing them to private functions in private rooms
is left to the discretion of the organisers.
Dorchester: You would not be served anything
when wearing a trouser suit.
This applies to all public rooms,
but for banquets and other private functions it is up to the organisers.
Connaught: Officially not allowed at any time in the bar or restaurant,
but it is a decision left to the manager.
Carlton Tower: Trousers are not encouraged in the Rib or
Chelsea Rooms, but they are coming to accept them.
They prefer lunch-time trousers to evening ones.
Westbury: Trousers are not allowed in the bar or restaurant;
this applies to evenings too.
However, this rule, like others, is relaxed from time to time,
eg, when Brigitte Bardot arrives in trousers from the
airport – or Lord Snowdon arrives for dinner in a roll-neck shirt.
Hilton: Officially no trouser suits in the Roof Restaurant.
Unofficially you could get away with it if it’s
a very beautiful catsuit or something similar.
At private functions it depends on the organisers.
Ritz: No rule for the daytime, it just depends on the trousers!
Usually it is permitted to wear trousers
in the evening, but again it depends . . .
Claridge’s: Very strict,
definitely no trouser suits in the public rooms,
though they say you can wear what you like in private!
Crockford’s: They don’t object to them at all.
Coq d’Or: They much prefer to see a lady dressed as a lady.
During the day they prefer skirts
but don’t object to trousers in the evening at all.
White Tower: lf the woman looks elegant and well-dressed she is let in,
otherwise she may be told that the restaurant is full.
Brown’s: No objections at all for either day or evening
in either restaurant or bar provided the wearer looks neat and tidy.
Les Ambassadeurs: Don’t mind couture—cut or evening trouser suits,
but don’t like anything untidy like blue jeans.
Caprice: Quote from the reservations man:
‘l am sure we can have no objections.
women eat here in trousers all the time’
Words by Molly Parkin. Photographed by Harri Peccinotti.
The eagle-eyed among you may have spotted the Ossie Clark ensemble which won Dress of the Year in 1969. For an item which won such a prestigious award, it’s always amazed me that I haven’t seen more contemporary images of it. I suppose it’s quite ‘out there’, even by late Sixties standards, but thankfully Molly Parkin was always pretty way out there.
If you can make your way through all the text, it’s a pretty impressive and important insight into the attitudes towards women in trousers in late Sixties Britain. It’s easy to forget how scandalous it could be, even in 1969 – a good four years after we first saw Emma Peel in John Bates’s trouser suit designs in The Avengers, for a woman to wear trousers. People obviously did it, you see enough fashion spreads to know that, but the list of swanky hotels and restaurants who still would refuse entry and service to a woman in trousers is quite extraordinary.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers Bazaar, April 1969.
Left to right: White voile peasant shirt and wide pink, blue and turquoise brocade belt with gilt buckle, both from Thea Porter. Trousers in shell pink silk chiffon with sequins by Gina Fratini / Cyclamen silk shirt with full extravagant sleeves and purple trousers in Warner’s silk damask furnishing fabric, both by Thea Porter/ Brocade belt with gilt buckle by Swordtex from a selection at Mr Fish. / Gipsy bolero in silk brocade and cream organdy trousers, both from Thea Porter. Long orange and yellow scarf wound around waist from Flora Boutique. Chain belt studded with flowers from Browns. More jewelled belts and chains from a selection at Ken Lane.
Divine at his toilet, using On-Stage make-up available from Nina Campbell. His toga is Zandra Rhodes printed silk, ‘Mexican Turnabout’. Bracelets and brooch by The Purple Shop, 15 Flood Street. Rings and drop earrings by Adrien Mann, small diamond earrings by Ken Lane, brooches on washbasin from Andrew Logan’s Galactic collection. Make-up by Richard Sharah, wigs by Wig Creations.
Nina Campbell’s own bathroom in a typically-shaped turn-of-the-century Kensington mansion flat. The narrowness of the room is minimised by slicking over with a glossy American vinyl wall—covering. All services are on the left-hand wall, the right is covered with framed prints. Theatrical lighting focusses the mirror overthe washbasin. Nina Campbell is at 48 Walton Street, SW3
Divine — the larger-than-life star of ‘Pink Flamingos’ and John Waters’s other iconoclastic films — illustrates the bathroom theatrical, as well he might. He was seen in London in ’Women Behind Bars’ and opens this month in ‘The Thorn’ in New York. As he posed for photographs the photographer said ‘that’s too butch.’ ‘what a wonderful country England is,’ replied Divine. ‘where a half-inch blusher brush is too butch.’
Photographs by Peter Warner. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers and Queen, September 1980
Divine bathing in Jean Harlow mood. Abandoned ball dress by Zandra Rhodes. Shell ring by Andrew Logan, £40 from 15 Appold Street, EC2. Chocolates by Charbonnel et Walker.
Tom Parr of Colefax & Fowler, 39 Brook Street, W1, designed this St John’s Wood bathroom. Double mahogany doors open into the room, with large windows on two walls panelled to dado level with mahogany. The festooned windows look out on to a garden. Bath and basin are topped with marble, taps are Edwardian reproductions by Czech 8 Speake, 88 Jermyn Street, SW1.