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.
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. . . .
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.
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.
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. . . .
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. . . .
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
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.
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.
Left: Black organdie dress embroidered with red raffia (fabric, Forster Willi), to order from Clive, 17 St George Street, W1. Red leather shoes; 12gns, Charles Jourdan. Red Mary Quant tights; 13s 11d, Selfridges. Earhoops; £3 1 5s, Paris House, W1. Parasol hired from Bermans, W1. Right: Black silk organza dress and shawl with white and red flowers; Bellville Couture, 95 Cadogan Lane, SW1. White Twiggy tights ; 16s 11 d, Galeries Lafayette, W1. Embroidered satin shoes ; 15gns, Kurt Geiger, Gilt earhoops; £3 1 5s, Paris House, W1.
Black nylon chiffon dress tiered in lace —a truly grand opera gown — with shoulder-wide scalloped neckline, tight bodice, satin sash; Capriccio Collection by Roter, about £35 10s, Harvey Nichols, SW1. Fan hired from Bermans, W1. Embroidered satin shoes; 15gns, Kurt Geiger. Nude tights by Berkshire; 11s 6d, John Lewis W1. Jet and gold ring from the Chelsea Antique Market.
Shirtdress splashed with flowers in brilliant Liberty silk ; Nettie Vogues, about £45, Fortnum & Mason, W1. Silk scarves ; Richard Allan, about £1 12s 6d each, Fenwicks, W1. Sheer Cling Tights Cantrece by Elbeo ; 15s, Selfridges, W1. Red shoes; 12gns, Charles Jourdan. Jet beads in hair ; Adrien Mann, £17s 6d, Dickins & Jones, W1.
Red and white flocked nylon dress — the prettiest of the Season —with gathers from neckline to waist, wide navy belt: Nettie Vogues, about 22gns, Dickins & Jones, W1. White Twiggy tights; 16s 11d, Galeries Lafayette, W1. Red shoes; 12gns, Charles Jourdan.
Now there’s hardware and haberdashery, furnishings and fabrics, cosmetics and mens-wear, all carrying the Biba label. Their brave transition from dolly boutique to department store was made last week when Biba opened in Kensington High Street. Although a baby store compared with neighbouring Barker’s, Biba does boast marble floors, a carved gallery from the old St Paul’s school, and a commissionaire at the huge glass doors.
Faithful customers can still find among the familiar palm fronds clothes to wear themselves or put on their children, but everything is on a much bigger scale. Colour-matched underwear and tights are on sale in a special conservatory-style department, and there’s a complete range of Biba makeup and cosmetics, and many more accessories.
But what’s really new, are the clothes for men, and the things for the house.
There’s nothing simple or austere about a Biba home life. The girl whose idea of some-thing comfortable to wear around the house is a slinky satin dress chooses a plush back-ground and hardware that’s softly elegant. Cutlery is rich-looking in gilt and mother of pearl, or silver and ebony. China is white and gold, glasses are chunky goblets. Specially printed wallpapers and furnishing fabrics, plain satins, felts, braids and trimmings, have carefully matched emulsion paints, lamp-shades and cushions, all in a range of 15 colours. Biba are selling the raw materials so that you can make what you want of them. The clue to their own style is Art Nouveau, but the way you choose to use them will be your own.
Biba men’s clothes are worn in these pictures by James Fox, who can currently be seen in ‘Isadora’ and whose new film, ‘Performance’, in which he co-stars with Mick Jagger, comes out next month.
Mr Fox is long and slender and can have little problem kitting himself out elegantly, but the clothes he wears here, plus others by Biba in velvets and tweeds, all come in a size range bigger than most. So fatter men can have fun with clothes too, and at a reasonable price.
By Liz Smith.
Photographed by Steve Hiett.
Scanned from The Observer Magazine, 21st September 1969.
Biba 3 is definitely the Biba I’m most captivated by, I think possibly because it was edged out so quickly by the much bigger (and more Deco) Big Biba and yet was, I think, the perfect encapsulation of the aesthetic and the first time the ‘department store’ ideal was manifested. Basically, I wish there were more photos so I do try and scan them when I find them! It’s also nice to see the menswear getting a bit of attention for once.
Pure wool herringbene tweed trousers cut to curve over the foot 6gn.; matching buttoned jerkin, £5 10s. Pure silk shirt and tie, 6gn. Art Nouveau statue, £7 10s.; necklace, 34s.; veiling, 2s. a yd. Marbled patent shoes, 12gn., from the Chelsea Cobbler, 33 Sackville Street, W1. Vanilla coloured Imperial Russian cigarettes by Sobranie, 11s. 3d. for 25. Carved ivory cigar holder, £21 ; ivory chess men, part of a set, £80; both from W. Barrett, 9 Old Bond Street, W1.
White worsted wool jacket with safari pockets and belt, 15gn.; matching trousers shaped over the foot, 8gn. Brown and cream printed rayon shirt, 5gn.; matching tie, 39s. 6d. Co-respondent shoes, £5 15s. from Anello & Davide, 30 Drury Lane, London, WC2. Teacup, 5s. 6d.; saucer, 3s. 3d.,2) All Biba prices here are approximate.
Yellow vibrations, sun crepe printed with black and green, cut out at shoulders, frilled like a waterfall down tight sleeves; 15 gns. All clothes by Ossie Clark at Quorum, 113 King’s Rd.
Look at summer through new eyes. Ossie Clark sees you in shepherdess smocks of voile, in long crepe dresses, reed-thin red or printed by Celia Birtwell. Pattie Boyd looks at it her way. All at Quorum.
Photographed by David Bailey.
Scanned from Vogue, June 1969.
I think this editorial might be one of the first I ever scanned, back in even my pre-blog days. I may have posted it on MySpace (don’t judge me, I feel ancient enough as it is). I’ve been meaning to properly rescan for years, but finally the time seemed right. It is the perfect combination of designer, model, photographer and a stunning use of Pre-Raphaelite imagery.
Cloud white voile, left, with apple green and peach, a shepherdess shirt, about £8 14s. 6d, matching skirt, about £10 8s. 6d to order.
Gentle beige smock, below, with crepe yoke, half sleeves above long voile cuffed sleeves; body beige, too, with olive and orange; 142 gns.
Flame red crepe dress, below, wrapped round and tied behind, with dragon fin sleeves, long and slender, a potent mixture of enchantment; 12 gns. Scarf by Celia Birtwell. High collar, £3 5s, from selection at London Docks, Munro Terrace.
Liz Eggleston 