jean shrimpton

Miss Peelpants goes to Penzance

holidays, janice wainwright, jean shrimpton, penzance

Well, I am returned from my holiday. Refreshed but cold, naturally. There was no amazing mystery about where I went, I just try not to get too excited about things before they happen. Otherwise I worry they won’t happen at all!

In particular, I was slightly panicking about it not happening at all due to flooding. The special place was The Abbey Hotel down in Penzance, which is owned (and was formerly run) by iconic former model Jean Shrimpton. She has since passed the management to her son Thaddeus, but the antique-filled Georgian building definitely has the unpretentious, warm atmosphere of the distinctly unpretentious and quirky Ms. Shrimpton throughout.

This was a holiday based around not very much at all, and I certainly enjoyed some serious mooching, lazy mornings (I’m not a big fan of the full English so I’ve long since given up trying to please b&b owners by still having it anyway…) and reading/talking by the crackling open fire in the lounge. Which, amazingly, was always empty. Those sturdy, fleece-wearing ‘other guests’ must have been out and about trying to get lots of things done. The fools! (And thank goodness for that…)

No fleece for me, you’ll be pleased to know. Plenty of velvet (a Janice Wainwright for Simon Massey blue panne velvet maxi, in distinctly medieval style, was perfect loungewear), chenille and assorted other goodies I was too damn [unashamedly] lazy to photograph. Ha!

The room was beautiful and entertaining in equal parts. They have, ingeniously, made it ensuite by installing a bathroom in a cupboard, and a sink/mirror in another cupboard. I suppose if you were high-maintenance it might not be to your taste, and I suspect it’s unique within the hotel, but it was highly amusing and became quite normal quite quickly….

Some brisk beach-walking in St Ives. Peter Lanyon at the Tate. Mouthwatering duck at The Bakehouse on Chapel Street. Window shopping at Kitt’s Corner vintage shop and a truly eclectic antique shop further up which is only open Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. The Christmas Dalek!

Saucy records picked up en route back.


Palm-printed tumblers.


Groovy printed storage jars in the weirdest small-town charity shop I’ve ever been in (think, League of Gentlemen).


I wish I was still there, but there are beautiful clothes to be photographed and a ballet to work on. I don’t get much holiday time over Christmas, so I’m very lucky to have been able to have such a wonderful holiday beforehand. Thank you to Cornwall, The Abbey Hotel (all of the staff were charming, helpful and relaxed) and my gorgeous companion. Even the slightly scary snowfall on the way back was beautifully atmospheric and exciting.

Back to normal service tomorrow!

Inspirational Images: Shrimpton by Lichfield

1970s, Inspirational Images, jean shrimpton, patrick lichfield

Patrick Lichfield, 1970

I seem to have a fascination for tree-climbing in fancy frocks. It was one of the main reasons I fell for Emma Peel back when I first saw You Have Just Been Murdered (she shins up a tree in a feather trimmed mini dress and silver shoes). Of course, I would never run the risk of doing such a thing myself (Think of the snags. And I’m so clumsy I’d definitely fall and break my neck trying to rescue a dress from being skewered by a branch!) but it’s always such a captivating thought…

Patrick Lichfield, 1970

Duffy

brian duffy, diana rigg, jane birkin, jean shrimpton, seventies fashion, sixties, terence stamp
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.








Made in England

book reviews, Foale and Tuffin, iain r. webb, james wedge, jean shrimpton, jenny boyd, john bates, marit allen, sixties

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’.