Watching Out

alun hughes, diana rigg, emma peel, john steed, old england, patrick macnee, sixties, the avengers, twiggy

I was aghast to read recently that Old England was being ‘relaunched’ as a brand. This isn’t entirely surprising, given my usual reaction to such endeavours, but I was particularly cheesed off because I was still awaiting my very own original Old England timepiece. Ever since I knew about their collaboration with The Avengers, in the Alun Hughes-era rather than John Bates, I have been wanting one of my very own. I have extremely skinny wrists, and I either need something very delicate and barely there or I need some ridiculously big statement. Old England watches are perfect for the latter…

Diana Rigg in an Avengerswear mac by Dannimac, hat by Edward Mann and watch by Old England.

Patrick Macnee and Twiggy. Twiggy is wearing an Avengerswear Old England watch


Now it’s around her ankle!

Miniature versions in 1968


So imagine my delight when I peered into a cabinet in a delightfully ramshackle antiques shop in Bexhill and spied this acid green confection. A wind and a few gentle shakes by the shop owner got it started after goodness knows how many years in the cabinet. It’s missing one of the strap bars across the back, but for £10 how could I say no?


Twiggy

bravo magazine, minis, sixties, twiggy

A couple of brilliant German adverts for the Twiggy clothing range. I love that Ban-Lon is ‘Bani-Lon’, but Crimplene is hideous Crimplene in any language…

Both are from Bravo, May and October 1968 respectively.


(p.s I still have an über rare Twiggy-labelled dress for sale over at Vintage-a-Peel)

Big Hair

backcombing, brigitte bardot, britt ekland, Catherine Deneuve, charlotte rampling, diana rigg, hair, jane asher, natalie wood, Pattie Boyd, picture spam, sixties, talitha getty, twiggy

Big Hair

A celebration of big Sixties hair. Because, if you’re anything like me, Big Hair is the only hair you can possibly manage in summer humidity…

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Lover of the cover

album covers, the sweet, twiggy

When I was hunting for decent sized images of The Sweet for my last blog (fiendishly difficult, I might add), I stumbled across darklorddisco‘s flickr account and, more specifically, his 45 picture sleeves album.

I have gone through brief LP-hunting phases in the past. But lack of space has often restrained me from buying (though I love to look and still bitterly regret not picking up a Twiggy album from a charity shop in Streatham) and I’ve even re-donated in moments of madness (or clarity, however you want to look at it). I’ve started buying a few more lately because, well, my groupie ladies and my boyfriend are a very bad influence on me.

Whilst I’m trying to be ‘good’ and stick to people I know I love, there is something quite irresistable about really, really bad covers by people you don’t know. And by bad, I mean good. And by good I mean, they’re pretty bad. And so on.

Novelty has its limits, usually available storage space, so it’s a delight to come across someone else’s collection. Which saves you time, space and money. And scanning effort. I hope darklorddisco doesn’t mind my posting a few of my favourite examples. I’m VERY fascinated by those Risqué ladies indeed….






Twiggy: more than a keyword….

british boutique movement, celebrity boutiques, sixties, twiggy, website listings

Twiggy’s own label was a brief, beautiful contribution to the world of the British Boutique Movement. Click here to see my previous blog about it. The pieces are rare enough, but it can often be hard to find them online when her name has become merely a ‘keyword’ for the masses of unlabelled minis and hacked off maxis floating around in vintage land.

However, Vintage-a-Peel always seeks to bring clarity to the vintage world, so I don’t use such keywords. Except now I have an actual Twiggy dress for sale, so I can. Hurrah! Stunning striped cotton mini with blue satin buttons down the front to match the blue satin ribbon around the waistline. I love the tiny, ever-so-sweet detail of the top button though, which is covered to match the fabric of the dress. It’s even lined in cotton; a detail which would simply never occur to anyone nowadays (and is far nicer than supposedly high-end designer pieces even from the Sixties!). Wearable and so sweet, but also immensely rare and collectable.

Now listed over at Vintage-a-Peel

Have you got style?

alice pollock, grace coddington, ossie clark, petticoat magazine, quorum, twiggy

One of my favourite quotes (“If you have style, you have to have it right down to your knickers”) comes from this article, also in the May 1969 Petticoat, so I thought I would share the entire piece with you all. It teams a quiz about whether you have style with a rare Alice Pollock interview. Delish!

Alice Pollock: She’s got style.

Wearing a loose-fitting black trouser suit, Alice Pollock curled up on a black leather sofa in a black-walled room, over her Chelsea boutique Quorum and grinned elf-like through her black lipstick.

She was so obviously stylish that it was almost embarrassing to ask her to define the word “style”. It was like asking her to explain away her entire personality.

Looking very serious, she said: “You know that old saying about wearing nice underwear in case you get involved in a road accident? Well, to me, that is a very stylish cliche. If you have style, you have to have it right down to your knickers. And to be really stylish, you have to have a clean, healthy body and clean hair to go with all your smart clothes.”

She clasped her long, brown hands behind her undoubtedly clean, short hair and added thoughtfully: “Clothes alone don’t make a person stylish–but they do help. I think that if you’ve got style and you’re really together, you couldn’t walk around looking like a complete un-thought about mess. The two things go hand in hand. A stylish person uses clothes to express their style–but it’s just as important that they have clean hands and nails and tidy handbag.”

Warming to the subject she added: “Of course, the whole style thing goes a lot deeper than this. It is accepting yourself, and before you can do that, you have to find out what you are and this is one of the most difficult things in the world to do. Finding out what you are is using your experiences (and this means the band ones as well as the good ones) and trying to apply the lessons you learn from them to the next thing you do.

“For example, if you find that at the end of something, you have made twenty new enemies and lost ten friends, you have to decide firstly, whether you were positively right and honest in the action you took and secondly, whether it is better for your personal and professional satisfaction to have twenty enemies, or whether it was better before when you had ten friends. In other words, learn something from it. This is the way to find out about yourself and develop a style.”

Alice said she thoguht there were a few lucky people born with style, but that most of us had to work at it:

“To work out a style for yourself is very difficult as you must be very careful that it is natural and not acquired as a facade. It’s got to be what you really want–what you really dig–and it’s got to end up by being what you feel. When you have sorted out your style, it is a good idea to involve as many of the right people as possible, so that the whole thing ends up as one enormous style. We live in a society and what we do must reflect society to be of any value.

“A thing which doesn’t reflect society may be very beautiful but have no style.”

She thought for a moment and came up with an example:

“There’s a beautiful, enormous building at the end of Oxford Street and although it is lovely, it is just not practical because it was designed without calculation as to what might happen to the environment if it ever filled up. If that building was ever put to full use, there wouldn’t be any room for the workers to park their cars; there wouldn’t be enough buses or tube trains to bring them to work and there would be no room in the nearby restaurants during the lunch hours. Something like that which doesn’t work has no style.

“When I design clothes, I am very aware of the utility side of it. I know that a garment that feels uncomfortable can cramp style. As a designer, this is something which I can concern myself with but what I have no control over, is where and on what occasions the customers who buy our clothes, will wear them. This is very important because style is very much concerned with doing the right thing in the right place. If you go to a race meeting in your high heel shoes or out to the grocers in your chiffon dress, you probably won’t look very stylish. You have to adapt your style–and this means in every way, not just clothes. I mean, it’s no good putting on your Jimi Hendrix record and playing it to some business man who just wouldn’t appreciate it.”

She waved her arm at a rack full of Quorum clothes.

“Wear those to a really straight business lunch and no one will dig them. You’ll be wasting your time. Style is a matter of coming to the right decision. For instance, if you’re going out and you wonder whether you ought to put on a lot of make-up or a little. Confidence is very important. If you feel confident about your looks, you’ll be all right. Better to wear something you like and feel good in that something you think the latest fashion.”

Tucking up her knees, she pointed to her feet: “For instance, I love these old brown boots, although some people might say that they don’t go with what I am wearing. If you really love something, and you trust your own judgment; wear it.

“If you don’t trust your own judgment however, try copying the style of someone you admire. Combine the parts of her look which you like with what you look good in.”

I asked Alice whom she thought of, as having style and she came with the Burtons, Grace Coddington, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Twiggy, and her partner, Ossie Clark. For people with no style, Savundra and John Bloom.

“There’s nothing less stylish than making a big public goof involving hundreds of ordinary people. To have style, you must have faith in what you do. You must put your heart into it for it to come out saying ‘style’. It must be what you really, really believe in.”


I must say that while, for the most part, she does talk a lot of sense, I’m not quite sure I agree with her statement about not wearing a chiffon dress to the grocers. I think those kinds of big, bizarre statements can often indicate a very stylish person. Thinking for yourself and going against the grain of expectation and convention.

It’s certainly a vastly different outlook from the ones usually spouted by male designers (like Ossie himself or the fabulous John Bates), coming from the perspective of being a woman. But I think she sounds rather curiously conservative, actually, and I prefer a balance between her ideas and the more extravagant ‘wear what you want, surprise people!’ mentality of the male designer.

I’d be very interested to hear what you all think. Ultimately though, ‘style’ is totally indefinable and to ‘be stylish’ in most people’s eyes often seems rather dull to me.

John Bates = Happiness

grace coddington, jean varon, john bates, mod, moss crepe, personal collection, sixties, twiggy

You may (or may not…where have you been hiding??) know of my love for the work of John Bates. He’s a pretty important designer to me, and [via The Avengers and subsequent research] is a big part of why I have gone down this career path. I’ve met him twice and he has also, more recently, completely unwittingly and indirectly changed another part of my life. For which I’m very grateful, and which he will have no idea about.

Senti will be witness to the fact that I nearly fainted when I read what he had written in my copy of Richard Lester’s book about him. I had been wearing an early red chiffon Varon to the launch, and he wrote ‘Love the red chiffon and it fits perfectly!’. Perhaps that wouldn’t affect other, normal, people in the same way. But it was like a slice of heaven for me.

Lousy photo of a great dress.

Anyhoo. I don’t post a lot about my personal collection these days. To be honest with you, I’ve let go of a few things here and there. Other things need re-photographing. And several are still sitting in a no man’s land of ‘maybe I ought to sell this, really’. Hence I removed those sections from the website before I relaunched and haven’t reinstated them yet.

I am still trying to thin down the Bates collection. Which is hard. You can’t even imagine how much so. It’s easier to sell an Ossie, frankly, because I know I can get a fair market value for it. But Bates is still very ‘all over the place’ and I don’t want to gamble with such gorgeous frocks.

My plan is to have a comprehensive mid-Sixties array of his work. The varied, inspirational designs of his early years. Plus a decent selection of everything from then on, but minimalised greatly from what it has been. If I was having any doubts about this idea, they were swiftly removed by my most recent acquisition.

The really good, really early and representative Bateses don’t turn up very often. And you often forget that, for example, you’ve personally never seen an example of his panelled crepe work turn up. Or a dress with laced panels (which I also acquired last year, and need to photograph, sorry!). I’m very lucky to own a PVC example, and a dress with foil trim – those are pretty scarce as well. I love this dress. Passionately. I can’t find a direct photographed example, but it’s got to be from the same year as the Twiggy and Grace Coddington photos (below and at the top of the post).

Yes indeed. This dress makes me very happy.

Swinging Sixties: Happy Birthday Twiggy!

seventies fashion, sixties, twiggy

Cue lots of people moaning about how this makes them ‘feel old’. Our very own Twiggy is 60 today, and definitely still looks fabulous. And I’ll forgive her for nearly having my eye out with her elbow last year. Good excuse for a Twigster picture spam, non? Crazy crimpy-haired Twigs is my favourite era, so I might try to do that look today in her honour.
















And here’s a little something to remind you to have a celebratory brandy, Moonie would have wanted it that way…

Sandie Shaw Boutique

1960s, cathy mcgowan, celebrity boutiques, jeff banks, personal collection, sandie shaw, twiggy

The other day I promised to show my Sandie Shaw dress. It’s a navy wool crepe with a very nifty little double layered collar (the top layer being in white moss crepe).

I can’t promise this will be a terribly long or informative blog post, because there’s so little information out there about the label. It opened in 1967 and, needless to say, Sandie didn’t design the dresses and shoes (although she had full ‘approval’). I suspect it didn’t last very long, much like Twiggy and Cathy McGowan’s boutique labels. Perhaps there was deemed a conflict of interests when she married designer Jeff Banks in 1968?

Sandie opening her boutique in 1967


I will make Sandie one of my Fashion Icons at some point, whereupon I shall write more comprehensively (if I ever do such a thing) about her and her style. But if any of you are not familiar with our girl, I should probably tell you that her trademark was to sing barefoot. So much was made of the fact that her label was producing shoes!

The images have been taken from footage shown in the BBC’s Queens of Pop programme.



Yes Sandie, I’d be grimacing if they put me in a wig like that!


A screengrab cannot truly capture the seriously groovy Sixties dancing going on at this point.




Ouch, bunions ahoy!

Little Miss Hornby and a gap now filled

1960s, british boutique movement, celebrity boutiques, eye candy, personal collection, twiggy, vintage fangirl squee

As many of you know from reading my blog and my website, I’m quite a keen collector as well as a seller. Together with the fact that I love wearing British Boutique-era clothing as well, it’s a wonder I ever sell anything. But thankfully, for you, I do and I don’t hold back the good stuff either. But occasionally, with something magnificent and as yet unrepresented in my collection, I do decide to buy something for myself and myself alone. It’s my ambition to have a representative collection of British Boutique designers and boutiques, some designers I will always have more than others because I have more of an interest in their career. But for some, one representative piece is all I can possibly hope for (or even afford). Like Thea Porter, or Bill Gibb…….or now, Twiggy.

Twiggy’s own label started in 1966, designed by RCA graduates Pam Proctor and Paul Babb, as one of the many ways in which Twiggy and her manager/boyfriend Justin De Villeneuve could utilize her fame and bankability. Twiggy was eager to be involved in the entire process of the clothes production, as a keen home dressmaker and frustrated designer herself, and this means that it was perhaps one of the better made and most genuinely stylish celebrity boutique labels of the time. Originally the idea had been mooted by Berkertex, but when Twiggy realised they were simply wanting to put her name on an existing range of clothes with no input by her, she turned to the Taramina Textiles firm. Smaller but happy to leave the creative decisions to the Twiggy camp and the two designers.

“We made sure the dresses were really good and they were all things that I would be happy to wear. I still think it was a very good, young collection of clothes–cat-suits, print shifts gathered under the bust, Bermuda-length jump suits, shirt dresses with long pointed collars, jersey culotte dresses, a pinstripe gangster style trouser suit–and all for between six and twelve guineas.” Twiggy by Twiggy (p51)

The launch was promoted by Twiggy’s only catwalk appearance and photographs taken by the legendary Barry Lategan.

Sadly, the small British manufacturers behind the label were unable to keep up with the demand the Twiggy line had produced in both Europe and the USA and the line eventually folded by the end of the decade. This leaves the label as one of the rarest and most highly sought after boutique brands of the time, due to the iconic status of Twiggy and the brevity of its existence.

I was overjoyed to finally get me a piece of Twiggy’s range, it had been a glaring hole in my collection so far. Then a few days later, I was sorting out my image files on my computer and found these photos of Twiggy actually wearing the dress in question. Unfortunately it does show me that the sleeves have been hacked off at some point…..but honestly, I care not! I have photos of Twiggy in my dress and as any regular readers will know, I’m slightly obsessed with original photos and particularly of the designers in or with the garments in question.

Don’t mind me, I’m just doing a little happy dance here!