Pat Booth

british boutique movement, countdown, james wedge, pat booth, seventies fashion, top gear, Vogue

Somehow I missed that Pat Booth passed away in 2009. Alongside her then boyfriend James Wedge, Booth helped “create” the Chelsea fashion scene in the Sixties and Seventies with the boutiques Top Gear and Countdown. She had started out as a model, before and during the boutiques’ lifespans, and would become both a photographer and a novelist in later years. She was married twice; first to psychiatrist Garth Wood and second to advertising guru Sir Frank Lowe, a short year before her death from cancer. Pattie Boyd and Cliff Richard were the only attendees.

The reason I was looking her up was because I found and scanned this lovely shot of her from Vogue Boutique, February 1971. I’m still posting it, but I feel a bit sad to know that another key figure from the period has gone.

“Pat Booth strides out, left, in front of the recharged Countdown, 137 King’s Road, wearing the striped shorts she has made for the shop. All colours, 5½ gns, sweater the same, cape about 25 gns.”

James Wedge the Milliner

british boutique movement, countdown, Foale and Tuffin, hats, james wedge, jenny boyd, moyra swan, Pattie Boyd, sixties, susannah york, top gear, Vogue

James Wedge the Milliner

I’m often yapping on about the genius of James Wedge’s photography, but I have been meaning to share this very rare, very precious part of fashion history and of my personal collection for a while now. Wedge is one of those rare Renaissance-man types; successful in every new skill to which he turned his hand. He successfully ran his own boutiques (Countdown and Top Gear), forged a career in photography with no experience or working knowledge (trial and error often creates some of the best works of art) and, initially, he trained and worked as a milliner.

 James Wedge hats in Vogue

James Wedge hats in Vogue

His hats were regularly featured in Vogue in the early to mid Sixties, often teamed with outfits by his friends Marion Foale and Sally Tuffin, and are some of the most perfect examples of mod ‘op-art’ ever created. But they weren’t being produced for long, or in any great quantity, so they are now incredibly rare.

This hat splits me in half. I cannot wear fur. I just can’t. Not particularly morally, I eat meat and wear leather quite happily, but the feel on my skin is like nails down a blackboard. Consequently, a hat made from rabbit fur is a thing of beauty aesthetically but I wouldn’t wear it even if I could squish it over my big head. However, I can’t quite bring myself to sell it just yet. I mean… it’s James Wedge?!

James Wedge the Milliner

James Wedge’s Painted Ladies

19 magazine, Inspirational Images, james wedge, toulouse lautrec

I took a gamble on a copy of James Wedge’s Painted Ladies book. Produced in 1988, it is ostensibly a guide to how Wedge created many of his best images using some extraordinary hand-colouring techniques and bizarre manipulation.

The glorious side-effect is that it is also filled with these lush images. Many of which I haven’t seen before, and some of which were always a bugger to try to scan in from a weirdly sized copy of 19 magazine, or somesuch. I’m sure, over time, I will post more. But I thought I would give you a little taster in this amazing Victorian-themed shoot for 19. Unfortunately, the book isn’t great about giving dates so if anyone knows the issue then please let me know.

I can’t even begin to tell you how bored I am with the whole burlesque/pin-up hoo-ha these days. I’m sure some people do it brilliantly, in fact I know they do, but it’s all become so mainstream and yawnworthy. I can’t really see how jiggling your boobs around in feathers and tassles is particularly superior to jiggling your boobs around a pole, as I’m constantly being told. A stripper is a stripper; a glamour model is a glamour model. But maybe I’m just a cynic? People can do whatever the hell they like and, so long as they’re not hurting anyone, I really couldn’t care less. I just wish it wasn’t everywhere, and that it didn’t seem to automatically correlate with interestingness.

So many times I’ve gone to post amazing pin-up-style photoshoots from the likes of Nova or the Telegraph Magazine, but it’s all so commonplace these days I simply can’t be bothered. However, I don’t need any excuse to post delicious early-Seventies photos by James Wedge, inspired by Toulouse Lautrec. Who happens to be one of my favourite artists and biggest inspirations, and whose grubby, ramshackle, louche ladies are a darn sight more interesting than most of what we’re presented with these days.

James Wedge really does deserve some kind of retrospective exhibition and big glossy book. Would somebody please sort this out some time soon? Please? Thank you….

p.s If you have an issue with nipples, then you might want to avert your eyes and come back tomorrow. I happen to be fascinated by nipples and particularly what James Wedge seems to do with them…




Sud You!

1970s, hand tinting, Inspirational Images, james wedge

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!

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’.