Every girl, if only once in her life, gets the opportunity to eat out at one of London’s smart restaurants. so when the time comes you may as well make the most of it. The main thing is not to feel intimidated by your surroundings. but to be very cool and nonchalant. as if you do it all the time. (No slumping down in your seat or staring around the room with your mouth open.) If you just don’t understand the menu. ask your escort or the waiter. don’t just point to something and hope for the best. Make sure your hair is clean and shiny. and please don’t have it set and lacquered (very uncool). Wear some-thing soft and romantic in crêpe or voile, that moves well when you walk. or a halter-neck dress with a low back to make the most of the remains of your summer tan. Make sure your dress length isn’t mini (it might be the only one in the room. and then they’ll all know you’re from out of town). Don’t spoil the effect of your midi with the wrong accessories—wear a pair of new Granny shoes with the higher heel and bar strap for added authentic ‘Forties’ glamour.
Ignoring the title (which I have, as always, left for posterity) this editorial is pretty damn perfect. On the cusp of what we more clearly think of as ‘Seventies’, just before platforms and the extremes of Glam, but turning its back very determinedly on the ‘Swinging Sixties’ and looking further back with nostalgic eyes. It’s also a delicious, possibly unique, snapshot of the most fashionable restaurants in London at the time.
Bitter choc lurex suit by Pourelle, 13gns. Cat suit with fine straps by Pourelle, 12gns. Shoes by Dolcis, 89s 11d
Out of the sombre tones of last year’s black evening dress, emerges the exciting new glitter story for autumn. Light-as-a-feather Lurex, made up into cool, clinging styles, helps you shimmer through those soft, romantic evenings.
Photographed by Stuart Brown in the flat belonging to interior designer John Wright of Walker, Wright and Schofield, and also in Mr Chow’s restaurant.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from 19 Magazine, September 1969.
Pink silver-sequined georgette dress by Gillian Richard, 11gns.
Gold lurex jumpsuit by Pourelle, 13gns. Gold lurex dress and trousers by Pourelle, 13gns. Shoes from Russell and Bromley, £8 9s.
Bitter choc lurex long sleeved dress by Pourelle, 9½gns. Black shoes by Elliott, 7gns.
Silver lurex shirt dress worn over matching trousers by Pourelle, 13gns. Silver shoes by Russell and Bromley, 7gns.
Silver lurex evening suit by Pourelle, 15gns. Silver shoes by Russell and Bromley, £8 19s.
Bitter choc Lurex dress by Pourelle, 7½gns.
Black sequined georgette dress by Gillian Richard, 8gns.
Left: Jersey diamond by Hans Metzen. Red patent platforms by Bata. Hat by Brosseau. / Right: Black and white batwing by Hans Metzen. Platforms by Antonio at Bata International. Sailor hat by Brosseau.
How about that sleeve? Striped jerseys and white silks wider than they’re long.
Satin skirts, all pictures, by Screaming Mini at Reflection, Kensington High Street.
Photographed at Mr Chow’s Montpelier, Knightsbridge. Chess set with fake fur board at Harrods.
I’m always excited to see Alice Pollock anything, anywhere, but this spread features a blouse I have (except mine is in black) in the second image. There’s a good reason why vintage blouses get snapped up so quickly, and this photoshoot proves it…
Photographed by Barry Lategan. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vogue, April 1972
Blouse by Alice Pollock, with fine faggoting instead of seams, at New Quorum and Che Guevara
Blouse by Alice Pollock, at New Quorum and Che Guevara
Occasionally I go and gorge myself stupid over at the magnificent Youthquakers site. They make no pretence of scanning perfection, which means they can bombard you with a tonne of amazing Vogue scans at any one time. I feel exhausted just looking at it. It also means that a complete Brit-fashion geek like me (with more magazines than I can cope with) can take a look at copies of US Vogue, which I can rarely justify getting hold of myself.
I spotted this brilliant piece in a February 1970 US Vogue. Mrs Chow was, of course, Grace Coddington and Mrs ‘Liberson’ was, in fact, Marit Allen. Fashion journalism legend and boutique collector extraordinaire. She was the wife of SandyLieberson (tsk! tsk!, US Vogue fact checkers…), who was a film producer and to whom I am extremely grateful for bringing That’ll Be The Day, Stardust and Rita, Sue and Bob Too! into my life.