Moon Drops

1960s, Hair and make-up, Harpers Bazaar, Inspirational Images, Make-up, Revlon, Vintage Adverts

Revlon launches the lipstick to wear to the moon.

Scanned from Harpers Bazaar, October 1969.

Photo Finish

1960s, Derry and Toms, Inspirational Images, Queen magazine, Russell & Bromley, thea porter

Taking your J & B casual: Burgundy and pink silk gauze dress, with a bodice of raw silk and velvet; £60 at Thea Porter, 8 Greek Street, W1.

There were 2,554 entrants in the amateur photographic competition organised by J & B Rare Whisky and QUEEN. First prize was a fee-paid fashion assignment. The result was the photo finish above, by joint winners Jeanne Hendry (above) and N. Patrick Allen (below), who shared the prize-money and each received a case of J & B Rare.

Photographed by Jeanne Hendry and N. Patrick Allen.

Scanned from Queen, 12th-25th November 1969.

Taking your J & B neat: Trim black maxi-length dress, £21 10s at Derry & Toms, Kensington High Street, W8. Crêpe shoes, silver trimmed; £6 19s at Russell & Bromley, New Bond Street, W1. Black stockings; by Aristoc, 7s at Liberty, Regent Street, W1. Hair by Valerie at Cheveux. All glass from Maples, Tottenham Court Road, W1.

So many ways to wear a scarf

1960s, Inspirational Images, marianne faithfull

How many ways do you know to wear a headscarf? When you get down to it there are dozens of different ways. We asked singer Marianne Faithfull what her favourite methods were, and she showed us—as here!

When I was little, my mum used to find old Sixties and Seventies girls annuals in charity shops for me to pore over. There are a few things from my early life I can pinpoint as how I became ‘me’ and my tendency towards pop culture from before I was born, and this feature on multiple ways to tie a scarf, modelled by Marianne Faithfull, was definitely one of them. Fortunately it didn’t, as I had feared, get thrown away and now I feel obliged to put it out there into the world.

Scanned from Girls World Annual, 1967.

On the left, Marianne shows a way to add smart interest to a simple blouse or dress. A triangle of matching cotton is made up into a dinky scarf, and is worn more for effect than to keep the hair tidy. It also looks cute tied at the nape, instead of under the chin.

Right : a fun way to wear a scarf is the cowboy style. This is best with a plain dress or sweater.

From left to right : 1 . The most common way to wear a scarf, but Marianne includes the two essential ingredients for prettiness : a crisp unwrinkled scarf and pretty, neat hair. 2. A chiffon scarf is used to hold the hair loosely back. Looped round at the nape, it is knotted, then pinned through the knot to hold it well up on the back of the head. 3. This is a clever way to dress up a scarf for evening wear: a rose tucked under the scarf. This also helps to stop the scarf flattening bouffant hair.

A scarf is formed into a pleated bandeau, and tied just beneath the ear so that the ends come forward on to the shoulder. 5. This is a windproof method, where the ends are crossed over at the chin, then tied at the back. 6. A coronet made of a scarf, a safety pin, and an inch-deep circle of thin cardboard. As for the bandeau it is flat pleated(iron the pleats into place) and wrapped round the cardboard coronet. A safety pin fastens it, and the ends of the scarf, trailing down the back, hide the pin. Use hairpins to hold it in place.

Only One Joe

1960s, Graham Rogers, Illustrations, petticoat magazine

Illustration accompanying a short story titled ‘Only One Joe’.

Illustrated by Graham Rogers.

Scanned from Petticoat, 21st December 1968.

Sun Shiny & Moon Shiny

19 magazine, 1960s, Babydoll, caroline smith, Hair and make-up, Illustrations, Make-up

Illustrated by Caroline Smith.

Scanned from 19 Magazine, September 1968.

Trust Almay and love what happens

1960s, Almay, Hair and make-up, Make-up, nova magazine, Vintage Adverts

Scanned from Nova, June/July 1969.

Isadora!

1960s, Clovis Ruffin, giorgio sant'angelo, Henri Bendel, Holly Harp, Inspirational Images, Isadora Duncan, Sibley Coffee, Vintage Editorials, Vogue

Jeanette Vondersaar, moving as the crests of the waves, all in a mist of champagne chiffon—the tunic, crystal-pleated, the ankle-length skirt, a simple, sheer, one layer veiling. $100. By Sibley-Coffee, 331 East 58th Street. . . . The Isadora-ish gold cord sandals at Henri Bendel, 10 West 57th Street.

Isadora Duncan—what a wonderful thing she did for all of us: The way she swept into the world of theatre, of dance, of the world’s eye, bringing with her her great ware of fresh., vital, natural thinking—of movement, of beauty, and of dressing. lsadora really changed a lot of things. Now the movie “The Loves of Isadora” is re-inspiring us all allover again. And it’s so right for right now. Here, some Isadora-inspired clothes, worn and choreographed, right, by a beautiful, young, spirited Jeanette Vondersaar of the Harkness Youth Dancers….

The spirit of Isadora Duncan . . . her wonderful rhythm and movement translated into fabric … what wonderful clothes for as to own right now.

Coiffures by Mr. Chin of Charles of the Ritz

Photographed at The Harkness House of Ballet Arts.

Photographed by Jack Robinson.

Scanned from US Vogue, August 1969.

Jeanette, exuberant, joyful—moving with the freedom of the sea, in a tunic of azure-blue matte jersey, the sleeves loose, flying—only a gold belt clasping it to the body. Tunic, $45. From Holly’s Harp, 8605 Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, California. Belt by Christian Dior for Abbe Creations. . . .

Isadora would have done it this way—the strong extravagant gesture—of wrapping a beautiful silk shawl, printed in the colours of autumn, hemmed deep in bronze fringe. $75. Holly’s Harp, 8605 Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, California. . . .

Glorious. A flow of royal purple Orlon jersey . : . all line and the movement Jeanette gives it . . . the extra, extra long scarf of scarlet jersey. Both designed by Clovis Ruffin. $75. At The Stockyard, 49 Grove Street. . .

The essence of Isadora Duncan’s dressing—Oh! has Giorgio di Sant’ Angelo caught it. And here, Jeanette Vondersaar expresses it, moving as the willow in the wind, the flame of the fire. . . . Black matte jersey flowing to the floor, clasped at the wrists—at the hips with two belts—the head wrapped in black jersey too. $250. . . .

Black suede whipping with flames of fringe, with bold paste diamonds ringing the V neckline. $250. . . . All by Giorgio di Sant’ Angelo. At the Safari Room of Bonwit Teller. . . .

Willow-grey jersey, a tunic twisted around the body, held at the waist with a swath of brilliant pink—the head and arms wrapped again in a long, long scarf of grey. $150. All by Giorgio di Sant’ Angelo. At the Safari Room of Bonwit Teller. . . .

Scarves from head to toe

1960s, Adrian Mann, biba, celia birtwell, edward mann, Ginger Group, headscarves, Inspirational Images, Jaeger, janice wainwright, jinty, liberty, liberty's, Liz Smith, Marlborough, mary quant, observer magazine, polly peck, quorum, Richard Allan, simon massey, Steve Hiett, steven hiett

Long chiffon scarf designed by Celia Birtwell, 2 gn., from the Vidal Sassoon Shop, 44 Sloane Street, W1; Quorum, 52 Radnor Walk, SW3. White Tricel tricot blouse, part of set, by Mary Quant’s Ginger Group, 13 gn., with contrast trousers and jerkin, from Bazaar, Knightsbridge, SW1.

Scarves, instead of being dismissed as last year’s fashion gimmick, are being perpetuated as this year’s most important accessory. Still the simplest way to wear a scarf is to flip a long one casually college-style around the neck. As long as it’s not literally a college scarf this somehow adds enough chic to whatever you wear, without making you look fussily overdressed. There are dozens of different ways to tie a scarf. Smart French girls are tying scarves around their waists, twisted in with chain belts or beads. Marc Bohan at Dior makes headscarves tied pirate-style look young and chic, and shows scarves tied like a man’s tie. Although large squares will still be in demand to wear on the head or folded up as cravats, the big fashion in scarves is still for long ones, preferably fringed. Men will have to accept with a good grace that they have lost their long-established monopoly of fringed silk scarves. Until now almost the only places to find them were men’s departments, antique market stalls or somebody’s attic. (Shawls are the latest craze from jumble sales.) But shopping for scarves is easier this spring, with stocks at last in every shape and size. Hair by Valerie at Cheveux, 15 Abingdon Road, London W8.

Fashion by Liz Smith.

Photographed by Steve Hiett.

Scanned from The Observer Magazine, March 1969.

Paisley printed chiffon square, 63s., from Liberty, Regent Street, W1. Hat by Edward Mann, 49s. 11d., in a variety of colours. Tricel jersey tunic shirt (with trousers), by Jinty, 8 gn.

Tied around the waist a filmy silk square by Richard Allen, 75s., from Fenwick, 63 New Bond Street, WI. Pearl and turquoise twisted bead belts with tassel ends, by Adrien Mann, 30s. each, from Harrods; Kendal Milne, Manchester. Beige crepe shirtsleeved jumpsuit £41 10s., from Jaeger, Brompton Road, Sloane Street, Baker Street and a number of provincial branches.

Pirate-style cotton handker-chief, 17s. 6d. from Liberty. Silver brooch on shoulder, 30s., silver bracelets, £1 7s. 6d. each; all from Indiacraft, Marble Arch, W1. Tricel jersey dress by Mary Quant’s Ginger Group, £5 19s. 6d., from Bazaar.

Indian silk scarf, 36 in. square, £1 11s. 6d., from Indiacraft, Silver chain, 18s. 6d. from Fenwick. Cigarette holder from Tunisia. Tunic dress in Lancola jersey by Marlborough, 11 gn., with trousers, from Peter Robinson.

Extra long silk scarf looks good tied as a sash, also in black, £2 2s. 6d., from Biba, 19-22 Kensington Church Street, W8, and by post. Rayon chiffon smock dress, by Polly Peck, 13 gn.

Square scarf tied like a tie, silk crepe de chine, 7 gn. yard, 36 in. wide, from Liberty. Dacron and cotton blouse, also in white, pale blue, brown, lagoon and pink, £5, from all Young Jaeger branches. Courtelle Neospun jersey pinafore-topped trousers designed by Janice Wainwright for Simon Massey, £8 18s. 6d. Maltese cross on chain by Adrien Mann, 25s. Tibetan bird ring £1 10s. from Indiacraft. Sunglasses by Corocraft, 25s.

Silk stole to wear as a sash, by Richard Allen, £7 17s. 6d., from Fenwick. Simple round-necked sleeve-less jumpsuit zipping up the back, in linen-look rayon, navy, beige, thyme or caramel, £14 10s., from Jaeger, London, and all provincial shops. Red and navy slingback shoes, 79s. 11d., from Dolcis. White plastic chain belt by Adrien Mann, £1. Page-boy wig, £21 15s., from Beyond The Fringe, 59 Brook Street, London

Masque behind the face

1960s, diana rigg, Inspirational Images, jean varon, john bates, peter cook, Queen magazine, Simone Mirman, Stanley Donen, Vintage Editorials

The Flirt: She has a flower-like quality, fair and pretty with an innocent air. Without regard to her maturing years, she plays the part of a child. Her dresses are innocent and fluffy. She wears bows in her hair and her man sees her as his good angel. He feels she is his pure heroine. He wants to shelter her. She smiles a lot. She smiles mostly at important and rich men. She be-guiles them into givirig her compli-ments — also the spotlight. Bewitched, her man doesn’t realise his friends find her dull. Her education is nil, her contribution to conversation non-existent. Her knowledge has been limited to an intense study of her personal appearance. Her important man has an important engagement. She does everything to delay him. She is maddeningly self-centred. She cries a lot if rebuffed, or if she doesn’t get her way. She wants all the attention. Skilfully, she keeps him unaware of a lack of reality in their love-making. She is too tender for passion. Her real interest lies elsewhere. Her desire and satisfaction is bound up, not in tender concern for him, but for his bank account. **Hat by Simone Mirman**.

Masques are not new. The Greeks used them in their classical theatre to represent various stereotyped parts such as ‘The Happy Lover’, ‘The Jealous Wife’ and ‘The Benign Father’. Today, most people assume personae to hide their real personalities, though the very characteristics they try to keep hidden, are often quite obvious to others. What is more, it is easy for people to become identified with their masque to the point that it is difficult for them to discard it. The basic reason for assuming a masque is to play a role and, hopefully, to make oneself more attractive than one actually is. It doesn’t always work.

Played by Diana Rigg and Peter Cook

Written by Adelle Donen

Photographed by Stanley Donen

Scanned from Queen, 5th July 1967.

I have been on something of a break from here and social media recently, for personal reasons, but had always planned to post this on Diana Rigg’s birthday so here I am, back a little earlier than intended.

When I found this copy of Queen magazine, appropriate because Diana was and will always be my Queen, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t seen most of the images before – especially as they were taken by one of my favourite film directors. There’s always a part of me that wants to keep things like this to myself, but the bigger part wants to share the beauty with everyone. So I hope you enjoy!

The Goddess: Her beauty captures the admiration of men. She is aloof, which captures their imaginations as well. Stripped of ancient gods, men long to find modern symbols. For some she is Aphrodite, the sexiest of them all. Others see her as purity. She is mysterious. The poor girl has to keep quiet. She does not dare expose her pedestrian qualities. She retreats be-hind a nondescript personality. She may or may not have much in the upper storey, but she has twigged the fact that she will always get in free, as long as she does nothing but exist. Gorgeous girls do not have to do much to enhance their looks, so they have to learn little about style, unlike their less fortunate sisters. She dare not change, and remains locked up behind her lovely iron mask. She uses what judgement she has to choose the plushiest suitor. He is swindled. He has married a statue. She has learned how to get what she wants and not give anything. She is frightened and frigid. **Dress by Jean Varon.**

The Femme Fatale: She is dark, full-blooded and passionate. When she enters a room she has a brooding air. She is convinced she is irresistible to men; that she alone among women can experience real love (be it ever so exhausting). It is easy to see her idea of herself behind her slinky siren ap-pearance, but this can be agonising to the plain matron who would be ridiculous acting this part. She has an air of assurance with men, snaky and confidential. She doesn’t bother with women. Surprisingly, a man may accept her idea of herself and find her dramatisation agreeable. It flatters him. Then the fun begins. With all stops out, she throws her emotions at him. She is emotion itself — hysterical, furious, desperate. There is no moderation. She is devouring, unremitting. If the man survives, he may feel relief at having such a torrential release of his feeling. Or he may be frightened — and run. The whole play is usually brief and limited because of its intensity. The amount of unreality is prddigious. It is of these women that Kipling said: ‘The female of the species is deadlier than the male’. **Dress by Jean Varon**.

The Perfect Mother Awash with sentimentality, she is all concern and sacrifice for her children. She is a good sport. She is athletic with her sons, and like a big sister to her daughters. She has become one of the children — with corresponding loss of adult objectivity. There is no nonsense in her clothes.They are classic and tailored, with no frills. Having abdicated, she has given up competing with attractive women and denigrates their frivolousness. Her desires and ambitions are fastened onto her offspring — whether suitable or not. She enjoys every vicarious mo-ment of their successes. She is very busy — ali those duties to fulfil and amusements to organize for the family. Her husband has found that his business keeps him away from home a lot. He does not much enjoy going to bed with his ‘Girl Guide’ wife. She blames him vituperatively for his defection. She is jealous and possessive. He is trapped by her tricky appeals to his loyalty. What he and the children need is a woman around the house.

The No-Good Guy: He is attractive and sexy. Women by the dozen have found him so. That makes him irresistible. He is cool, a little sinister and . . . dan-gerous. A sharp dresser on the far-out side. He probably has an eye-catching car. He gets his kicks from furore and anything that adds to it is welcome. He has a fine understanding of his own problems, and says that he is ‘walled-up inside himself’. He tells you: `It’s a challenge to you to break through.’ He is misunderstood and lonely. He has had a tough time (he means to keep it that way). He says he wants to find the right woman. He warns you that no woman alive can love him. You mean to try and he means you to try. As soon as you are hooked, he tortures you. He is unreliable. He double-deals. He exploits your feelings. In any situation possible, he grabs the centre of the stage. He creates a lot of drama over everything. You wonder if there is anyone behind that wall. And what’s more you finally have the audacity to complain. He then points out to you how true it is that no one can love him. He’s sad. He’s sadistic.

The Intellectual Stands on a pedestal. He is admired for his ‘dedication and self-sacrifice’ to the good of mankind. Vague about details and delightfully unaware of his appearance — although seeming to follow a curious fashion of his own which he refers to as ‘comfort-able’ — the intellectual usually wears stained pullovers, corduroys and jackets with worn elbows. His eyes have that middle-distance look, of mere practical matters having yielded to things of the spirit. He is, of course, unaware of problems near to home. In his zeal and tireless work to improve the human condition, the intellectual is inspiring, provided no one comes close enough to him to expect an im-provement in himself. For all his intelligence, he is disarmingly vulnerable. Women long to devote themselves to him — look after him and see that he eats his meals. . . Fuzzy thinking flatters them that they too are pur-suing lofty ideals. They yearn to serve faithfully at the altar of truth, and are satisfied just to admire his high-minded goings on. But the intellectual is blind about females. His occasional dash for a curvy, but empty-headed blonde is humiliating to the would-be intellectual soul mate, especially when she sees him being led around by the nose. Basically he belongs in his ivory tower … without women.

The Charming Boy: He is neat, well-mannered and lovable, playing the perennial juvenile lead. He oozes good fellowship. He picks up the bill. He ex-pands in his own popularity. He is modest about himself, but never lets an opportunity pass to further his career, social or professional. He is impeccable in his appearance — on the conservative side. He sends flowers and thank-you notes. He is sweet. He ap-preciates you more than anyone ever has. You believe in him. Before you know it, you are working for him. He is Chairman of the Board to promote himself. You are pressed into service. He looks after himself like a baby. Why shouldn’t you? Behind that coy, guileless exterior is ruthless ambition. You are an accessory in his search for power. Things run smoothly as long as you donate your all. If you have needs — forget them. The perfection of his image, and his rise to eminence, cannot be interrupted. This boy is, in short, a fraud.

Soft Summer Silk

1960s, belinda bellville, Capriccio by Roter, charles jourdan, Clive, Ferragamo, Glyndebourne, Harpers Bazaar, Inspirational Images, John Claridge, kurt geiger, liberty, liberty's, Nettie Vogues, Richard Allan, thea porter, Vintage Editorials

Transparent silk chiffon dress hand-painted in smudges of soft yellow and prune, sashed with long chiffon scarfs from Liberty, £2 12s 6d each. Dress, £45, Thea Porter, 8 Greek St, W1. Rings from Savita, 30 Lowndes St, SW1. All-in-one bodysuit and tights, £1 5s 6d, Fenwicks, W1. Pumps in beige crepe with jewelled heels, 28gns to order from Ferragamo, 24 Old Bond St, W1.

Glyndebourne in summer where the season opened on May 25th with Massenet’s Werther and Mozart’s Cosi fan Tutte. Balls, long, long English summer evenings for wearing fragile chiffon, delicate lace, organdie and brilliant silk; for baring arms and feet and dancing far into the dawn. These photographs were taken in the Organ Room at Glyndebourne.

I worked at Glyndebourne for a few seasons, a few years ago. Whilst it meant I was lucky enough to get to be in the audience several times, and visit the Organ Room, I’m now extremely sad that I didn’t have these dresses to wear!

All the hairstyles, using hair pieces by Toyer Tresses, by Oliver at Leonard, Upper Grosvenor St.

Photographed by John Claridge.

Scanned from Harpers Bazaar, June 1969.