Here’s a delightful (but a delightful pain-in-the-arse to scan) photoshoot with my favourite dance troupe, Pan’s People, from Petticoat Magazine (May 1969). I suppose trousers for women were still something of a novelty in 1969, but there’s no excuse for usage of the word ‘pants’ for trousers in a British magazine.
She wears top and trousers by Rosalind Yehuda (shoes by Sacha). He wears suit and shirt by Blades (shoes by Chelsea Cobbler).
Well we all need help with that. Sadly, this just means in terms of temperature. Although it is very much on my wavelength about such things. I just don’t see the need to instantly strip off as soon as there is a hint of sunlight.
Still wearing a moderate weight vintage coat, I was being blown along the seafront last weekend and frowning at people walking along in shorts. Do they just have a different inner thermostat to me? Or did they, as I suspect, look out of the window, see the sunshine and feel a steely determination to wear as few clothes as possible and get down to the beach? Chillblains or no chillblains…
Even when it genuinely is rather balmy, I still don’t see any great need to strip off…I like clothes too much.
Anyway, enough of my rambling and on with this superb spread from The Observer Magazine, 3 August 1969. Not only do I love the clothes (both his and hers), but I love the settings and overall feel of the photos by Clive Arrowsmith.
Hot days in sticky cities can be miserable. But there’s no need to take to a beach dress or wear your tie draped round your nabel. Keep morale up, temperature down with cover-up clothes in lightweight fabrics styled simply in cool, clear colours.
Dress by Foale and Tuffin. He wears Cerruti.
She wears Marrian McDonnell (shoes by Shoosissima). He wears suit by Cecil Gee, shirt and tie by Turnbull and Asser.
She wears ensemble by Foale and Tuffin (shoes by Biba). He wears suit by Fex Brothers, tie and shirt by Turnbull and Asser.
She wears dress by Lee Cecil for Jetsetters (shoes by Sacha). Silk scarf by Tony de Celis (the man in these pictures). He wears Gordon Deighton at Trend.
She wears Ossie Clark (boots by Chelsea Cobbler). He wears top and trousers from Feathers.
No, I’m not being rude, it’s the actual title of the article which accompanied this amazing photo by the endlessly fabulous James Wedge (19 Magazine, March 1974). I love his photos. I love his hats (remind me to photograph mine some day…). I love his look.
It’s quite like his hand-tinted photo which has always been one of my favourite images in the Marnie Fogg Boutique book. Amazing!
I love this shoot from Vogue, July 1972 by David Hamilton (not diddy DJ David Hamilton, I am assured) who seems to have specialised in these dreamy, misty, blurry photos which capture the spirit of a perfect, hazy English summer’s day…
I love pinafores and mock pinafores. Something harking back to my childhood, no doubt. I went through a very bizarre phase (I was rather prone to them, I must confess….) where I couldn’t bear to wear skirts or trousers. I was convinced they would fall down, they never felt secure or tight enough, even shoved up under my armpits. So I lived in dresses and, mainly for school, pinafores.
Empress of Eyeliner. Mistress of Mascara. Etc etc.
Generally utterly inspirational to a liquid-liner-crazy lady like myself.
A lady never wears fake jewels, coloured underwear, diamonds before breakfast
Amazing images, ludicrous etiquette I’m happy to be breaking on a regular basis, clothes I want desperately. Ahhhh……it has to be more from Vogue, June 1971.
It is in bad taste to dress extravagantly or showily with people who are all plainly dressed.
Blouse by YSL. From Vogue, June 1971. Photo by Peter Knapp
The most I will do in public, usually, is a bit of a powder buffing and perhaps lipstick. Anything else, I would feel far too self-conscious. I wouldn’t dream of leaving the house without the make-up I needed to be wearing, unless I knew I could nip into the ladies somewhere en route. And that brings me back to this woman. Because she kept glaring at me. As though I shouldn’t be looking at her piling the slap on. Seriously? If you’re going to apply your maquillage on a crowded train, then you can’t expect everyone to demurely look away to protect your modesty.
She managed it, though, and I came very close to giving her a round of applause. Except she was still glaring at me and she looked a bit like Catherine Tate, which scared me as well. Ah well. Well done, random train make-up lady. Hope you enjoyed your weekend in Dublin!
I generally assume that, were I around in the Thirties, I would probably be Claudette Colbert. She’s now facing some tough competition from the gorgeous Hollywood clothes-horse Kay Francis. Mainly for her wardrobe, but I love her hair as well.
Liz Eggleston 
