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Purdey Fragrance

1970s, celia birtwell, joanna lumley, ossie clark, Random Ossies in Adverts, Vintage Adverts, Vogue
Carlo Dini has created Purdey Perfume. A Perfume in the timeless French tradition, made for the exciting woman of today. Purdey for the woman with style.

Joanna Lumley giving me the New Avengers and Celia Birtwell-print Ossie Clark crossover I didn’t know I needed. I would dearly love to know what this smelled like, if anyone can remember please let me know!

Scanned from Vogue, January 1978.

The Jean That Speaks For Itself

1970s, 1980s, art deco, Deco Inspired, jean harlow, jeans, menswear, Vintage Adverts

Advert for Gentle Folk Jeans.

Scanned from Men’s Wear, January 17th 1980.

So many ways to wear a scarf

1960s, Inspirational Images, marianne faithfull
How many ways do you know to wear a headscarf? When you get down to it there are dozens of different ways. We asked singer Marianne Faithfull what her favourite methods were, and she showed us—as here!

When I was little, my mum used to find old Sixties and Seventies girls annuals in charity shops for me to pore over. There are a few things from my early life I can pinpoint as how I became ‘me’ and my tendency towards pop culture from before I was born, and this feature on multiple ways to tie a scarf, modelled by Marianne Faithfull, was definitely one of them. Fortunately it didn’t, as I had feared, get thrown away and now I feel obliged to put it out there into the world.

Scanned from Girls World Annual, 1967.

On the left, Marianne shows a way to add smart interest to a simple blouse or dress. A triangle of matching cotton is made up into a dinky scarf, and is worn more for effect than to keep the hair tidy. It also looks cute tied at the nape, instead of under the chin.

Right : a fun way to wear a scarf is the cowboy style. This is best with a plain dress or sweater.

From left to right : 1 . The most common way to wear a scarf, but Marianne includes the two essential ingredients for prettiness : a crisp unwrinkled scarf and pretty, neat hair. 2. A chiffon scarf is used to hold the hair loosely back. Looped round at the nape, it is knotted, then pinned through the knot to hold it well up on the back of the head. 3. This is a clever way to dress up a scarf for evening wear: a rose tucked under the scarf. This also helps to stop the scarf flattening bouffant hair.

A scarf is formed into a pleated bandeau, and tied just beneath the ear so that the ends come forward on to the shoulder. 5. This is a windproof method, where the ends are crossed over at the chin, then tied at the back. 6. A coronet made of a scarf, a safety pin, and an inch-deep circle of thin cardboard. As for the bandeau it is flat pleated(iron the pleats into place) and wrapped round the cardboard coronet. A safety pin fastens it, and the ends of the scarf, trailing down the back, hide the pin. Use hairpins to hold it in place.

Michael Chow’s think tank

1970s, barry lategan, Fortuny, interior design, interiors, michael chow, Tina Chow, Vogue

Mickey Mouse is an obsession of Michael Chow, figuring five times, in cast iron, in Chinese rug work, in china, in tin, and even in abstract—Oldenberg’s sculpture in front of the desk. Michael, who runs five restaurants and one club in London, and is opening a restaurant in Los Angeles, is a compulsive collector. His office in a studio flat in Knightsbridge contains a splendid Art Deco desk on a platform, an Art Nouveau rug, two Richard Smiths, and a Robyn Denny, all bathed in Mozart and Bach, with windows opening on to a flower-filled verandah. “It’s a thinking office more than a working office. I sit at the desk and toss a coin for where I’ll go to lunch.” Michael and Tina Lutz were married recently. Tina is wearing an orchid pink mushroom pleat Fortuny bought at a Christie’s sale.

“It’s a photograph dress, not a wearing dress,” says Michael Chow. “And that reminds me of a story. This man sold a thousand tins of sardines, and the buyer rang him up and said, ‘I’ve just eaten one of your sardines. It was disgusting,’ and this man said, `You fool, they weren’t eating sardines, they were buying and selling sardines.’ “

Photographed by Barry Lategan.

Scanned from Vogue, October 15th 1973.

Masque behind the face

1960s, diana rigg, Inspirational Images, jean varon, john bates, peter cook, Queen magazine, Simone Mirman, Stanley Donen, Vintage Editorials
The Flirt: She has a flower-like quality, fair and pretty with an innocent air. Without regard to her maturing years, she plays the part of a child. Her dresses are innocent and fluffy. She wears bows in her hair and her man sees her as his good angel. He feels she is his pure heroine. He wants to shelter her. She smiles a lot. She smiles mostly at important and rich men. She be-guiles them into givirig her compli-ments — also the spotlight. Bewitched, her man doesn’t realise his friends find her dull. Her education is nil, her contribution to conversation non-existent. Her knowledge has been limited to an intense study of her personal appearance. Her important man has an important engagement. She does everything to delay him. She is maddeningly self-centred. She cries a lot if rebuffed, or if she doesn’t get her way. She wants all the attention. Skilfully, she keeps him unaware of a lack of reality in their love-making. She is too tender for passion. Her real interest lies elsewhere. Her desire and satisfaction is bound up, not in tender concern for him, but for his bank account. Hat by Simone Mirman.

Masques are not new. The Greeks used them in their classical theatre to represent various stereotyped parts such as ‘The Happy Lover’, ‘The Jealous Wife’ and ‘The Benign Father’. Today, most people assume personae to hide their real personalities, though the very characteristics they try to keep hidden, are often quite obvious to others. What is more, it is easy for people to become identified with their masque to the point that it is difficult for them to discard it. The basic reason for assuming a masque is to play a role and, hopefully, to make oneself more attractive than one actually is. It doesn’t always work.

Played by Diana Rigg and Peter Cook

Written by Adelle Donen

Photographed by Stanley Donen

Scanned from Queen, 5th July 1967.

I have been on something of a break from here and social media recently, for personal reasons, but had always planned to post this on Diana Rigg’s birthday so here I am, back a little earlier than intended.

When I found this copy of Queen magazine, appropriate because Diana was and will always be my Queen, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t seen most of the images before – especially as they were taken by one of my favourite film directors. There’s always a part of me that wants to keep things like this to myself, but the bigger part wants to share the beauty with everyone. So I hope you enjoy!

The Goddess: Her beauty captures the admiration of men. She is aloof, which captures their imaginations as well. Stripped of ancient gods, men long to find modern symbols. For some she is Aphrodite, the sexiest of them all. Others see her as purity. She is mysterious. The poor girl has to keep quiet. She does not dare expose her pedestrian qualities. She retreats be-hind a nondescript personality. She may or may not have much in the upper storey, but she has twigged the fact that she will always get in free, as long as she does nothing but exist. Gorgeous girls do not have to do much to enhance their looks, so they have to learn little about style, unlike their less fortunate sisters. She dare not change, and remains locked up behind her lovely iron mask. She uses what judgement she has to choose the plushiest suitor. He is swindled. He has married a statue. She has learned how to get what she wants and not give anything. She is frightened and frigid. Dress by Jean Varon.

The Femme Fatale: She is dark, full-blooded and passionate. When she enters a room she has a brooding air. She is convinced she is irresistible to men; that she alone among women can experience real love (be it ever so exhausting). It is easy to see her idea of herself behind her slinky siren ap-pearance, but this can be agonising to the plain matron who would be ridiculous acting this part. She has an air of assurance with men, snaky and confidential. She doesn’t bother with women. Surprisingly, a man may accept her idea of herself and find her dramatisation agreeable. It flatters him. Then the fun begins. With all stops out, she throws her emotions at him. She is emotion itself — hysterical, furious, desperate. There is no moderation. She is devouring, unremitting. If the man survives, he may feel relief at having such a torrential release of his feeling. Or he may be frightened — and run. The whole play is usually brief and limited because of its intensity. The amount of unreality is prddigious. It is of these women that Kipling said: ‘The female of the species is deadlier than the male’. Dress by Jean Varon.

The Perfect Mother Awash with sentimentality, she is all concern and sacrifice for her children. She is a good sport. She is athletic with her sons, and like a big sister to her daughters. She has become one of the children — with corresponding loss of adult objectivity. There is no nonsense in her clothes.They are classic and tailored, with no frills. Having abdicated, she has given up competing with attractive women and denigrates their frivolousness. Her desires and ambitions are fastened onto her offspring — whether suitable or not. She enjoys every vicarious mo-ment of their successes. She is very busy — ali those duties to fulfil and amusements to organize for the family. Her husband has found that his business keeps him away from home a lot. He does not much enjoy going to bed with his ‘Girl Guide’ wife. She blames him vituperatively for his defection. She is jealous and possessive. He is trapped by her tricky appeals to his loyalty. What he and the children need is a woman around the house.

The No-Good Guy: He is attractive and sexy. Women by the dozen have found him so. That makes him irresistible. He is cool, a little sinister and . . . dan-gerous. A sharp dresser on the far-out side. He probably has an eye-catching car. He gets his kicks from furore and anything that adds to it is welcome. He has a fine understanding of his own problems, and says that he is ‘walled-up inside himself’. He tells you: `It’s a challenge to you to break through.’ He is misunderstood and lonely. He has had a tough time (he means to keep it that way). He says he wants to find the right woman. He warns you that no woman alive can love him. You mean to try and he means you to try. As soon as you are hooked, he tortures you. He is unreliable. He double-deals. He exploits your feelings. In any situation possible, he grabs the centre of the stage. He creates a lot of drama over everything. You wonder if there is anyone behind that wall. And what’s more you finally have the audacity to complain. He then points out to you how true it is that no one can love him. He’s sad. He’s sadistic.

The Intellectual Stands on a pedestal. He is admired for his ‘dedication and self-sacrifice’ to the good of mankind. Vague about details and delightfully unaware of his appearance — although seeming to follow a curious fashion of his own which he refers to as ‘comfort-able’ — the intellectual usually wears stained pullovers, corduroys and jackets with worn elbows. His eyes have that middle-distance look, of mere practical matters having yielded to things of the spirit. He is, of course, unaware of problems near to home. In his zeal and tireless work to improve the human condition, the intellectual is inspiring, provided no one comes close enough to him to expect an im-provement in himself. For all his intelligence, he is disarmingly vulnerable. Women long to devote themselves to him — look after him and see that he eats his meals. . . Fuzzy thinking flatters them that they too are pur-suing lofty ideals. They yearn to serve faithfully at the altar of truth, and are satisfied just to admire his high-minded goings on. But the intellectual is blind about females. His occasional dash for a curvy, but empty-headed blonde is humiliating to the would-be intellectual soul mate, especially when she sees him being led around by the nose. Basically he belongs in his ivory tower … without women.

The Charming Boy: He is neat, well-mannered and lovable, playing the perennial juvenile lead. He oozes good fellowship. He picks up the bill. He ex-pands in his own popularity. He is modest about himself, but never lets an opportunity pass to further his career, social or professional. He is impeccable in his appearance — on the conservative side. He sends flowers and thank-you notes. He is sweet. He ap-preciates you more than anyone ever has. You believe in him. Before you know it, you are working for him. He is Chairman of the Board to promote himself. You are pressed into service. He looks after himself like a baby. Why shouldn’t you? Behind that coy, guileless exterior is ruthless ambition. You are an accessory in his search for power. Things run smoothly as long as you donate your all. If you have needs — forget them. The perfection of his image, and his rise to eminence, cannot be interrupted. This boy is, in short, a fraud.

Ossie invents summer… Patti wears it.

1960s, celia birtwell, david bailey, Inspirational Images, ossie clark, Pattie Boyd, pre-raphaelite, quorum, Vintage Editorials, Vogue
Yellow vibrations, sun crepe printed with black and green, cut out at shoulders, frilled like a waterfall down tight sleeves; 15 gns. All clothes by Ossie Clark at Quorum, 113 King’s Rd.

Look at summer through new eyes. Ossie Clark sees you in shepherdess smocks of voile, in long crepe dresses, reed-thin red or printed by Celia Birtwell. Pattie Boyd looks at it her way. All at Quorum.

Photographed by David Bailey.

Scanned from Vogue, June 1969.

I think this editorial might be one of the first I ever scanned, back in even my pre-blog days. I may have posted it on MySpace (don’t judge me, I feel ancient enough as it is). I’ve been meaning to properly rescan for years, but finally the time seemed right. It is the perfect combination of designer, model, photographer and a stunning use of Pre-Raphaelite imagery.

Cloud white voile, left, with apple green and peach, a shepherdess shirt, about £8 14s. 6d, matching skirt, about £10 8s. 6d to order.

Gentle beige smock, below, with crepe yoke, half sleeves above long voile cuffed sleeves; body beige, too, with olive and orange; 142 gns.

Flame red crepe dress, below, wrapped round and tied behind, with dragon fin sleeves, long and slender, a potent mixture of enchantment; 12 gns. Scarf by Celia Birtwell. High collar, £3 5s, from selection at London Docks, Munro Terrace.

Cosmic Collection

1970s, Clare Park, hair, Hair and make-up, james wedge, Make-up, Princess Leia, Star Wars, Vintage Adverts, Vogue, yardley

Yardley here, perfectly demonstrating the far reaching influence of Star Wars on the late Seventies with the not-so-subtle use of a Princess Leia-esque model.

Model is Clare Park.

Photographed by James Wedge.

Scanned from Vogue, December 1978.

John Bates

1960s, avengers, avengerswear, David Gittings, diana rigg, emma peel, Inspirational Images, jean varon, john bates, norman eales, Rolf van Brandtzage, the avengers
Scanned from Woman’s Mirror October 30th 1965. Photographed by Norman Eales.

If you follow me on Instagram, you will already have read my tribute to the amazing John Bates, who died on the 5th of June aged 83. Here I have collated a few images of his work designing costumes for Diana Rigg as Emma Peel in her first season in The Avengers, and an accompanying article from Woman’s Mirror, October 1965. I have also updated an earlier post with clearer scans from Woman’s Mirror, May 1966 of a dress which wasn’t officially Avengerswear but being offered as a pattern for readers with a cover photo of Diana in the dress.

“WHEN people say, ‘Oh, she’s the new Avengers girl’ I know that’s not all I am,” says 27-year-old Diana Rigg. “I had a career in the theatre before this and I know I can always go back to it. I hate talking about The Avengers and what I’m like in it and how I differ from Honor Blackman. I would much rather people drew their own conclusions.

“I dread the prospect of all the attachments to being famous. I work here at the studios from seven in the morning until six at night and I feel that should be enough. The thought of being a public personality, opening shops, and not being able to answer the door in my curlers, horrifies me.”

But being the Avengers girl has its advantages. Not the least of them being the prospect of wearing a sizz-ling new wardrobe, designed specially for the series by John Bates of Jean Varon.

“John’s been absolutely smashing,” says Diana. “Like most actresses, I spend a lot of time studying myself for the stage, and so off-stage I tend to the casual. I really have no set ideas about clothes. First of all, John studied my figure, discovered my faults, used them, and made a virtue out of them.

“He’s emphasised my broad shoulders with cutaway necklines. He’s drawn attention to my big hips with hipsters and huge broad belts. I think that this is a far more realistic attitude than designing for some impossible ideal model figure.

“There’s a kind of swinginess about John’s clothes which really makes me move in a special kind of way. And they’re all interchangeable. In different episodes there will be different permutations of the same clothes and ideally, of course, this is just how a woman’s wardrobe should be.

In deference to the American market, which still thinks that leather is the sexiest thing out, Diana has one leather fighting suit. “Of course, leather isn’t sexy at all,” she says, “It’s far too rigid. My other fighting suit is in black, clingy jersey which is far sexier.”

Clingy jersey fighting suits are all very well, but they have to stand up to pretty stiff competition in the shape of some snazzy interchangeables.

In this week’s instalment set in a gloomy Scottish castle, Diana will wear ice-blue lace ensemble with ankle boots, hipster trousers, bare midriff, bra top and modesty jacket. For exploring dungeon and torture chambers, flesh lace catsuit under white chiffon negligee.

There’s no doubt about it. If the clothes are anything to go by, this ABC series of The Avengers is certainly living up to the boast of its associate producer . . “It’s still a kinky show.”

Scanned from John Bates: Fashion Designer by Richard Lester.
Scanned from Television Stars Annual.
Scanned from Woman’s Mirror, 28th May 1966. Photographed by Rolf van Brandtzage.
Scanned from John Bates: Fashion Designer by Richard Lester. Photogrphed by David Gittings.
Scanned from Fashion in the 60s by Barbara Bernard.
Scanned from John Bates: Fashion Designer by Richard Lester. Photogrphed by David Gittings.
Scanned from Fashion in the 60s by Barbara Bernard.
Photographed by David Gittings. Scanned from The Sunday Times Magazine, September 26th 1965.
Scanned from Woman’s Mirror October 30th 1965.

Pussycat… a John Bates Sizzler

1960s, diana rigg, Donald Silverstein, jean varon, john bates, John Carter, woman's mirror
Even Diana Rigg was knocked out by this John Bates cut-out dress.

(This post was originally from 2011. I have updated it with better quality scans.)

John Bates loves short skirts, money, false eyelashes and Cilla Black. Hates English bras, big busts and any sort of foundation garment.

“Women are funny,” he says. “They heave their breasts up and out with tight padded bras and by the time they’ve finished squeezing everything in or pushing it out, they can look quite terrifying when they take their clothes off. Bras should just lightly cup the breast and tights are better than any girdle. Even the lightest suspender belt marks the skin. It’s muscles that matter – women ought to learn to use them properly.”

John, who is 29, created fashion dynamite with his sizzling clothes for Diana Rigg in The Avengers. He believes that skirts are going to get even shorter and that everyone under 40 should be pinning up hems. He says clothes look best on slim girls, but furnishes his flat with curvaceous statues and pictures of rotund Rubenesque beauties. He makes a lot of his own clothes, thinks that hipsters suit both sexes and most sizes, and always wears them himself. He’s now designing shoes, stockings and planning his new collection as well as designing clothes for men.

“And I always design something special for my mother at Christmas. Last year she set her heart on an Avenger op art fur coat. She’s well over 60 and I said, ‘Honestly love, it won’t suit you,’ but she said, ‘What’s good enough for Diana Rigg is good enough for me.’

“Usually I don’t listen to anybody. I’ve had my years of being told what to do. Now I don’t accept advice from anybody.”

Born in Newcastle, the son of a miner, John started at the bottom. “I’m no art school protégé. I picked up pins, embroidered, did the cleaning and had every rotten job that was going flung at me. I came to London because it’s the only place to work in the rag trade. I got on the train with a Newcastle accent and when I got off at London I’d lost it. I spoke very slowly for a long time, but it’s really the only way to do it.”

John Bates and model photogrphed by John Carter.

Diana Rigg cover photographed by Don Silverstein.

Scanned from Woman’s Mirror, 28th May 1966.

And joy! The magazine’s owner never sent off for the dress (which is sad), but this means that the form is still in tact (which is rather fabulous). Now where’s that time-travelling postbox I keep requesting?

Queen Marsha Hunt

1970s, harpers and queen, Inspirational Images, james wedge, marsha hunt
Actress and singer Marsha Hunt, paying homage to Tutankhamun, London’s most distinguished visitor this year. Her make-up is by Biba. Make-up applied by Bryan Perrow. Hair by Trevor at Leonard. Gilt Egyptian fish necklace, £11, The Purple Shop, 15 Flood Street, SW3. Gilt fish earrings, £10, Cameo Corner, 26 Museum Street, WC1.

I don’t often scan covers unless they are part of an editorial inside, but occasionally I’ll be so moved by one that I have to share. Magnificent!

Photographed by James Wedge.

Scanned from Harpers and Queen, April 1972.