Empress of Eyeliner. Mistress of Mascara. Etc etc.
Generally utterly inspirational to a liquid-liner-crazy lady like myself.
Mmmm. Sticky. No, it’s not some bizarre porno-Who spoof. Spookily enough, I bought this April 1969 copy of Honey having no clue what it contained, so imagine my amusement when I opened it this morning to be greeted by a Dalek fashion spread. Well, not Dalek fashions per se. There are only so many styles of sink plunger a guy can have attached to his casing.
I am reserving judgement on the new Doctor until I have watched the first episode again and possibly not until I have seen more episodes. But, so far, I think he’s adorable and I love the bow tie.
You may (or may not…where have you been hiding??) know of my love for the work of John Bates. He’s a pretty important designer to me, and [via The Avengers and subsequent research] is a big part of why I have gone down this career path. I’ve met him twice and he has also, more recently, completely unwittingly and indirectly changed another part of my life. For which I’m very grateful, and which he will have no idea about.
Senti will be witness to the fact that I nearly fainted when I read what he had written in my copy of Richard Lester’s book about him. I had been wearing an early red chiffon Varon to the launch, and he wrote ‘Love the red chiffon and it fits perfectly!’. Perhaps that wouldn’t affect other, normal, people in the same way. But it was like a slice of heaven for me.
Lousy photo of a great dress.
Anyhoo. I don’t post a lot about my personal collection these days. To be honest with you, I’ve let go of a few things here and there. Other things need re-photographing. And several are still sitting in a no man’s land of ‘maybe I ought to sell this, really’. Hence I removed those sections from the website before I relaunched and haven’t reinstated them yet.
I am still trying to thin down the Bates collection. Which is hard. You can’t even imagine how much so. It’s easier to sell an Ossie, frankly, because I know I can get a fair market value for it. But Bates is still very ‘all over the place’ and I don’t want to gamble with such gorgeous frocks.
My plan is to have a comprehensive mid-Sixties array of his work. The varied, inspirational designs of his early years. Plus a decent selection of everything from then on, but minimalised greatly from what it has been. If I was having any doubts about this idea, they were swiftly removed by my most recent acquisition.
The really good, really early and representative Bateses don’t turn up very often. And you often forget that, for example, you’ve personally never seen an example of his panelled crepe work turn up. Or a dress with laced panels (which I also acquired last year, and need to photograph, sorry!). I’m very lucky to own a PVC example, and a dress with foil trim – those are pretty scarce as well. I love this dress. Passionately. I can’t find a direct photographed example, but it’s got to be from the same year as the Twiggy and Grace Coddington photos (below and at the top of the post).
Yes indeed. This dress makes me very happy. 
There are a few people for whom I would dearly love to go back in time, purely to engulf them in the biggest hug of their life. Ossie Clark is one. Barry Evans is another. If I didn’t think he’d have me arrested for harassment, I’d go and find Richard O’Sullivan (Man About The House) and do it right now.
High up on my list is Ronnie Lane. Definitely my favourite Face, both Small and otherwise, and an absolute genius. He had it pretty rough in his later years, and he was just so gorgeous and fabulous, and all in all…very huggable.
I’ve been feeling a bit down lately, for various reasons, and a little under the weather too. But I happened to fling Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake
Life is just a bowl of All-Bran
You wake up every morning and it’s there
So live as only you can
It’s all about enjoy it ‘cos ever since you saw it
There aint no one can take it away.
So life is just a bowl of All-Bran – very true!
What you say has made it very clear
To be sure I’ll live as best as I can
But how can I remember to keep it all together
When half the moon is taken away?
Well, I’ve got the very thing
If you can laugh and sing
Give me those happy days toytown newspaper smiles
Clap twice, lean back, twist for a while
When you’re untogether and feeling out of tune
Sing this special song with me, don’t worry ’bout the moon
Looks after itself
Steve: Can I have a go?
Ron: Yes
Steve: Yeah?
Ron: Sing now:
Give me those happy days toytown newspaper smile
Clap twice, lean back, twist for a while
Well now you’ve got the hang of it
There’s nothing you can’t do with it
If you’re very tuned to it you can’t go wrong.
Random picture spam of the delightful Anna Karina. Make-up and hair perfection, and so beautiful you would probably willingly give a limb or two just to have a face like that.
It seems a bit strange to be relaunching the site after yesterday’s terrible news about McQueen. He was one of the few modern designers I had any respect for, because he was original and strived to be different. I never had the money or occasion to buy any of his work, but I do vividly recall gasping in delight at his work in Harrods (when I was 18 and used to go around there for kicks, and sneer at the finishing on certain other designers’ garments) and toddling off down the road to buy a very, very McQueen-y rip-off in Miss Selfridge. He had that kind of effect on you; his clothes (after you stripped away the spectacular catwalk shows) were pure genius and extremely womanly. May he rest in peaches (see my previous post about YSL).
Designers like him are what inspires people like me into our little niches in the fashion world, and I thank him profusely for that.
So…yeah…the website is back up. It’s been a bit Remade/Remodelled…..and definitely restocked. There’s Ossie, Biba, Janice, JohnB, Billy, Lee Bender; basically you need to go and have a look, don’t you? Go on, you know you want to…..
Currently loving her very subtle and elegant Sixties self. My eye gets drawn to these photos every time I dip into my archives, yet I’ve not got around to posting them. For shame.
Last night I found myself actually having to explain who and what I was talking about when I made a passing reference to Barbarella. I think it started out from my wondering how I was ever going to create an outfit around my thigh high boots (they flip over the top with red cuffs and look adorably Puss in Boots-esque) which didn’t make me look like a hooker; I mused that going for the full on Barbarella-type look might be my only option. I often forget that other people I know don’t actually live in my world and that some things, which are something of a given for me, are totally alien to them. So to speak. My certain knowledge that it was costumed by the genius Paco Rabanne was also called into question. I am always right though, people must learn this.
Ahem. I jest of course…
It’s been a while since I saw the film, although I’ve had it on DVD for a while, so I thought I would settle down and watch it tonight….possibly wearing the thigh high boots and a leotard for good measure. Rar! So here’s a picture spam:-
Although I must, personally, admit to a slight preference towards Anita Pallenberg as the Black Queen. It’s a brunette thing….
Len Deighton, Paulene Stone and Brian Duffy
No, not the irritating, Diet Coke-advertising, singer. I mean Brian Duffy, swinging Sixties photographer and film producer (Only When I Laugh and Oh! What a Lovely War) who attempted to burn all his negatives in his back garden in 1979 when he had decided to quit the industry (David Bailey once quipped that, had he known Duffy was attempting this, he would have come along and helped him). I managed to see the exhibition at the Chris Beetles gallery just before it closed, and now I spy a documentary on BBC4 about the man himself. Wednesday at 9pm, for those lucky Brits who can view it. I’m sure, like most things, it will end up on Youtube or somesuch eventually for our international friends.
I was lucky enough to be able to attend ‘In conversation with Iain R. Webb’ at the Fashion and Textile Museum last week, in my inadvertent and faintly ridiculous new capacity as fashion book groupie. Iain is the kind of person who completely awes me into silence with his knowledge and experience, so it was nice to be able to just take a seat and listen to him for an hour or so – without feeling like a chump for being awed into silence.
If you don’t already have a copy of Foale and Tuffin, then why on earth not? Put it on your Christmas list! Buy yourself one as a treat! Hunt me down and steal my copy! I’ll whack you over the head with my copy of Arthur Marwick’s The Sixties (a nice, hefty tome which would be perfect for book-stealing blog-readers) but I’ll forgive you eventually.
When I first heard they were actually planning to do a book on those fabulous ladies, AND an exhibition, I nearly squealed in delight. I may actually have done so, but I was in a room with John Bates so there’s not a lot I can remember from that night (if you want to put me on mute, lock me in a room with John Bates and Iain R. Webb and you won’t hear a squeak out of me).
My dream Foale and Tuffin outfit. Photographed by the incredible James Wedge.
The book doesn’t disappoint. As I have heard many people saying, not least those behind the project, the most appealing thing about it is that it isn’t a simple biography of two people. It’s like a window into their friendship coupled with a luxury chocolate box selection of Important People who, cumulatively, give a valuable insight into a most intriguing and endlessly inspiring period in history.
You often come away from fashion books with a strong sense of one person’s life. One person’s view of a cultural revolution. Often you can barely find mention of other designers within its pages; throwaway references to models, movers and shakers and maybe the odd two line quote. But here, in Foale and Tuffin, you have small essays created from interviews with the likes of Jean Shrimpton, Jenny Boyd, James Wedge, Marit Allen, Molly Parkin….oh I can’t even prioritize them, they’re all so important. It’s like a proper documentary in book form. In fact, I’d be a very happy bunny if they had been able to produce this as a ‘Beyond Biba’ style film.
In between the photos and essays, there are excerpts from Webb’s interviews with the gals. Much like the Ossie Clark and John Bates books before it, you’ll probably flick through it a few times just to ogle the amazing photos and barely take in any of the detail. But eventually you’ll find a window of time, when you can snuggle down and ‘listen’ to Marion and Sally nattering away. I’ve had the good fortune to have witnessed this a couple of times in person (although only tiny vignettes of F&T-ness, really) and have heard even more by proxy, so I’m delighted that an almighty natter with the girls has been recorded for posterity.
Why can’t more books be like this?
My two favourite candid photos of Sally and Marion from the book. I can definitely relate to Marion’s ‘Sewing Machine face’.
Liz Eggleston 