Photo by W. E. Carden
“The battle of the sexes in England, land of stiff upper lips and furled umbrellas – a land, in short, of Ladies and Gentlemen. Some are here seen at an Old Comrades Association parade in London’s Hyde Park in the merry month of May, where the keen eye – and camera – of W. E. Carden, A.R.P.S. noticed this amusing little vignette.”
Scanned from Photography Year Book, 1971.
I feel an Avengers episode coming on…
I really would love to know if anyone ever bothered to do this!
Viyella at Austin Reed advert scanned from The Sunday Times Magazine, September 17th 1967.
The Hon. Tara Browne in a maroon silk suit chosen by his wife, Nicky, left. By Major Hayward. Gold shirt, Turnbull & Asser
Both Tara Browne and Brian Jones were at the height of their fame, fortune and follicular glory here. Neither would see the Seventies. Indeed, Browne wouldn’t even see out the year this feature hails from. Quite extraordinary to see them together in the same spread from Men In Vogue, November 1966. They even managed to date the same woman (Suki Potier was the passenger in Browne’s Lotus Elan when he died, and would later be comforted by Jones – dating him, on-and-off, until his death in 1969.)
Photographs by Michael Cooper.
Brian Jones, a Rolling Stone in a double-breasted black suit, striped red and white, chosen by Anita Pallenberg, above. Bright pink shirt, scarlet handkerchief and tie. All bought in New York. Black and white shoes found in Carnaby Street.
As an aside, I was amazed to read, for the first time, that there are actually people in the world who believe that Tara Browne underwent extensive plastic surgery to ‘become’ a replacement Paul McCartney. Because McCartney actually died in a motorbike accident in Liverpool [just before Browne faked his own death], dontchaknow? I mean no offence to a beloved Beatle, but why on earth would anyone bother? Nobody bothered doing that with any other dead rock star at the time.
I’m quite the arch timewaster myself, but even my mind boggles at the years people devote to such patently ludicrous things.
Photo by Alec Murray
Scanned from The Sunday Times Magazine, April 13th 1969
‘No other cloth bears itself with such irreproachable distinction or touches women with such cavalier effectiveness that even the musketress must be disarmed eventually’.
What guff! But I do envy her entire outfit, hat included…
Pilfered from Mr Brownwindsor's extensive collection of Look-In magazines. 9th March 1974.
Captions on a postcard, or in a comment, please.
Bryan Ferry
Pilfered from a SuperSonic annual (1977) I found in a charity shop in Ramsgate. Some of the best and worst examples of manhood from the period. I don’t know all of them terribly well, so feel free to pipe up if you used to throw your knickers at any of them.
For all the ridiculousness of how some of them look, it alarms me a lot less than how most modern men dress. I saw a chap the other week wearing a tweed jacket (tick) with crotch-at-the-knee jeans (ick). You might be 50% vintage, but you still look like a prat. Top marks, of course, to the BryanGod and the guy from The Arrows (below) in the velvet trousers. Yum.
The Arrows
Rod Stewart
Kenny
Bilbo Baggins
Smokie
Hello
Mud
Slik (with pre-Ultravox Midge Ure)
10cc
David Essex
You all thought I’d forgotten about Mensday, didn’t you? Pah! Never! I was simply awaiting fresh meat inspiration, and what could be better than a space-themed suit advert? A suit made of steel and silk, no less. ‘A lightweight faultlessly superior.’. Nothing, that’s what.
Scanned from Men in Vogue, November 1966.
Mmmmm, patronising… Still, it’s a dude and his missus in faux fur coats so I find I cannot disapprove too much!
Many thanks to Paul Gorman for the invite to the opening of the superb Lloyd Johnson exhibition at Chelsea Space on Tuesday night. True to my usual form, I found it mighty hard to take any half-decent photos amongst the crowds so I must apologise for the poor quality which lies herein. I’m also definitely planning to return on a quiet weekday, so I can absorb it all properly.
I must confess that menswear is not one of my great areas of expertise, but I do know what I like. And those early Johnson and Johnson printed shirts and jackets are incredibly covetable – I actually cannot resist a novelty print. I know Mr Brownwindsor fancied a few of them, and it is yet another reminder of the tragedy of how dull most modern menswear is. (Snuggling up in a sloppy ‘La Rocka’ jumper, seen below, would also be very desirable!)
The highlight of the exhibition is probably the original ‘Johnsons’ shop frontage from within Kensington Market. Such a hallowed place, formerly full of many of my favourite designers of the Seventies and Eighties, it’s remarkable to see something like that having survived!
For me, La Rocka was just one of those names (like Red or Dead and Joe Bloggs) which stuck in my head during my childhood but which had little contextual information. This exhibition is a terrific insight into one man’s journey through several different eras of street style in London, always managing to stay idiosyncratic but never stalling at the one style. And as someone the other night said to me, you can’t really be different if you look the same as everyone else.
The exhibition runs until the 3rd March, so make sure you make a trip!
It Takes A Real Man To Ask A Warm Girl To Return His Acrilan Sweater.
I think someone favours his Acrilan sweater over a bit of how’s your father, because I’m sure he won’t be getting any more there…
Liz Eggleston 