Flower face, eyebrows powdered out and eyes shadowed deeper, brighter; the heart of Cardin’s morning glory dress of Bianchini organza finely pleated into a double ruff to frame the head. Make-up by Gil of Geminesse.
Photographed by Clive Arrowsmith.
Scanned from Vogue, April 1970.
I remember reading that one of Miss Selfridge’s early achievements was a Pierre Cardin diffusion range, so it was lovely to spot this advert in Vogue (plus Guy Laroche). I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one turn up, so I’d be fascinated to see what the label looked like.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, April 1969
A bevy of very dandy dudes grace this double page spread in London Life (March 19th, 1966). Look out for Michael Rainey, founder of Hung On You. I particularly love the juxtaposition between the young bucks and the old farts in the same spread.
This really perplexed me. How you can still come across a film from over forty years ago, which you and most people you know (who happen to be film geeks) have never heard of, featuring a cast list to die for, which then turns out to be pretty damn good? At what point did it blip off the radar?
While certainly not perfect, in that the style of the film can feel somewhat ‘bitty’ and stagey, it’s a wonderful series of vignettes covering various aspects of love and adultery. Starring Shirley Maclaine at her most beautiful, she takes on seven roles with a host of cameos from the likes of Peter Sellers, Alan Arkin, Anita Ekberg and Michael Caine. Costumed by Pierre Cardin, you see a wide range of personas from mousey housewife, to haute couture diva (having an haute couture strop Naomi Campbell would be proud of), to naked interpreter, to grieving widow…. I also have to give some serious kudos to the almighty hairdos by Louis Alexandre Raimon, who also puts in a cameo appearance.
They managed to order the sequences in such a way that keeps your attention, shows Maclaine’s skill and range and, finally, tugs at the heart strings. I wanted more…