haute naffness

Docteur Qui?

doctor who, haute naffness, jon pertwee, matt smith, seventies fashion

Have decided, after watching the first episode again and enjoying the second episode first time around on Saturday, that I am thoroughly loving the new Doctor. But then I am clearly quite fickle in my geek love, for I was quite mad for Tennant and my second childhood crush was Peter Davison. I think I’m just extremely ‘ok’ with the whole regeneration concept. It certainly never bothered me as a kid. Much like reincarnation; it carries on with a different face and personality, but ultimately it is the same soul/character.

Matt Smith is beautiful in a bizarre kind of way: cheekbones to die for, almost invisibly fair eyebrows and that hair. Oh! the hair. I must admit to being rather biased in that direction because my favourite man has pretty much got the same hair. Rowrrrrrrrrr.

I’m also very taken with his style. Young geeky guy does old fogey with great charm and panache. Bow ties? Haven’t been a huge fan up until now, I prefer a nice cravat or kipper, but Dr Eleven is working it very well. Tweed jackets? Braces? Sighhhhh…..

Ultimately though; pinstripes, tweed jackets, bow ties or cricket whites; something tells me that nothing will ever top the Pertwee-era.

p.s I feel like I need a copy of this. Anyone else?

Shepherdzzzz Pie

haute naffness


Contrary to what most people seem to [bizarrely] think, I am really quite dorky. The other morning I found myself lovingly preparing Shepherdzzzz Pie from a Seventies recipe my mum has been using since, well, the Seventies. Shepherdzzzz because of the Heinz Baked Beans origins and contents of the recipe. I’m not a natural cook, but it’s one of the things I’m fairly adept at doing.

As per usual, I was also listening to GOLD. My default radio station for most occasions. So I found myself in the dubious scenario of cooking this pie whilst shimmying around the kitchen, in rollers, to the divinely dubious sounds of the Andrea True Connection’s More More More. I still get urges to start singing ‘if you steal my sunshine‘ but my Seventies-self slaps the Nineties-self around the face and carries on with the shimmying. I know I should really be slinking around to Roxy Music or whoever, as usual, but there are times you need a bit of cheese (if not on top of the pie, because someone doesn’t like cheese).

Do I give you the Hornes, baby?

1970s, haute naffness, menswear, Vintage Adverts

 

Mmmmm. Men in lounging gear. What poise, what magnificent arrogance, what opulent warmth. He looks like a proper hard bastard; I particularly love the spotty cravat and cigarillo.

Observer Magazine, December 1970

A narrowly averted disaster

haute naffness

Ma and Pa Peelpants were actually going to throw out this wood-look resin crudité tray from circa 1971. Quelle horreur!

Phew! It is now safely in my possession. The perpetrators have been suitably chastised and reminded that all naff Seventies items must be given to me. Tsk! Apparently there’s a plate warmer with my name on it, up in the loft…

Sugar Me, Baby

haute naffness, lynsey de paul, pan's people, seventies fashion
This video combines two great Seventies things I have already blogged about: Sugar Me by Lynsey De Paul with very curious dancing by Pan’s People, in the bestest ruffled flares you ever did see. Completely potty, but fabulously so.
Mmmm, now I want cakes and ruffles.

How To Keep Your Head At Christmas

haute naffness, jean varon

Well for a start, you might not want to be wearing sexy Varon dresses (see below) around the office letch. It makes me awfully glad I don’t have to deal with any office letches any more, but also a bit sad that I don’t have an office party to wear a weird vintage frock to; there’s something quite hilariously naff about the whole concept of such events and I think it would deserve a hilariously naff dress.

The article itself is a rather dull look at how alcohol affects you and how to survive a hangover (and no, they don’t have the answer) so I won’t bother to type it up, but I loved the accompanying photos and thought they deserved a post….

Mirror Magazine (December 20th 1969)

Naff-tastic: The pink nylon ruffles, the wallpaper, the satin lapels, the boobs…

haute naffness, seventies fashion

…and the biggest boob of all. Sorry Mike Reid, RIP, I couldn’t resist. This photo entertains and entrances me on so many levels. I want to climb into it. (Is it wrong that I would totally run around wearing either of the strippers’ outfits?) It’s just brilliantly awful and awfully brilliant. I had to share. Perhaps I share too much?

During another stag do at the Kingfisher Club, Woodford, Reid waits in the dressing room with strip ‘artistes’ Tuesday and Stephanie.

Sunday Times Magazine, June 20th 1971