The Vamp

edwardian ladies, picture spam, silent films, theda bara, vamps

I’m always fascinated, and maybe a little bit sexually confused, by how much Theda Bara looks like Marc Bolan (or perhaps the other way around, if you insist). It’s easy to see why she was the poster girl, alongside Dietrich and Garbo, for the early-Seventies retro look. Wildly over-the-top, she seems a ridiculous sex symbol to modern eyes, and doubtless has done ever since her heyday. But you can’t deny her impact, embodying the concept of The Vamp[ire] in A Fool There Was and setting a template for Femmes Fatale down the decades.

In my opinion, she’s a more authentic example of exotic sexuality and vampishness because she was a creation from scratch, in a period where women struggled to be viewed as sexually powerful. The look has been refined, cleaned-up, “feminised” and inflated to almost grotesque proportions over the past century. The look has been defined and moulded by men, to be acceptable to men. Theda Bara was otherworldly and confusing to her audiences, and remains so to this day. More a true vamp than any modern equivalent could ever hope to be.

A fool there was and he made his prayer

(Even as you and I!)

To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair

(We called her the woman who did not care),

But the fool he called her his lady fair

(Even as you and I!)

Oh the years we waste and the tears we waste

And the work of our head and hand,

Belong to the woman who did not know

(And now we know that she never could know)

And did not understand.

A fool there was and his goods he spent

(Even as you and I!)

Honor and faith and a sure intent

But a fool must follow his natural bent

(And it wasn’t the least what the lady meant),

(Even as you and I!)

Oh the toil we lost and the spoil we lost

And the excellent things we planned,

Belong to the woman who didn’t know why

(And now we know she never knew why)

And did not understand.

The fool we stripped to his foolish hide

(Even as you and I!)

Which she might have seen when she threw him aside —

(But it isn’t on record the lady tried)

So some of him lived but the most of him died —

(Even as you and I!)

And it isn’t the shame and it isn’t the blame

That stings like a white hot brand.

It’s coming to know that she never knew why

(Seeing at last she could never know why)

And never could understand.

The Vampire, Rudyard Kipling

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?

My hair problems may be solved!

hair, Honey Magazine, noosha fox, sixties, stevie nicks, wigs

Except I need to invent time travel first. Dang.

Thank you to those very kind ladies who commented very lovely things about my hair on my La Peau Douce post. I think it’s just in need of a very thorough trim and a bit more of an effort on my part, which makes me feel quite negative about it. Honestly, I want the results without the endless rollers or icky hairspray and I’ll probably want Stevie Nicks hair the next day. Looking at the above advert, at this very exact moment, I want either 2 or 3’s Noosha Fox-esque styles. I’m so fickle…

Advert from Honey magazine, October 1968

Diana Rigg and Philip Saville

diana rigg, philip saville, sexy couples

It’s approaching February the 14th. So naturally I am reading articles about Diana Rigg and Philip Saville’s decidedly unconventional relationship and wondering how to mark Monday without “letting down” my grumpy single self from a couple of years back. Like any modern girl, but possibly not really, I can’t decide whether I’m a hopeless romantic or a hopeful cynic. But it’s definitely nice to live in a world and an era in which you can choose for yourself…

There was very little in the British press about their relationship, but the German magazines appear to have loved writing about them! Not sure where these photos actually come from (possibly the article I’m linking to up there?) they were languishing in a ‘to do’ folder from my days as a webmistress. Sorry!

Inspirational Images: Béatrice Dalle

1980s, beatrice dalle, betty blue, Inspirational Images

A happy three hours were spent snuggled up watching the director’s cut of Betty Blue the other night. Like a lot of iconic French actresses, Béatrice Dalle is dark, petite, pouty and seemingly a little bit loopy. All good.

If I thought for even a moment that I wouldn’t hate it within a week, I would get my hair cut exactly like this.

Hollywood Clothes Shop

ad hoc, british boutique movement, edina ronay, hollywood clothes shop, hollywood icons, johnny moke, kensington high street, seventies fashion, Vogue

There are a few boutiques, Alkasura and Che Guevara included, whose work is painfully abugly. Flat feet are not sexy and elegant.”

Hollywood Clothes Shop sounds like it was one of the best examples of those playfully indulgent Boutique interiors at the time, although its brevity of existence means that there’s not a lot of imagery to correlate with the descriptions of old cinema seats, and the mannequins, paintings and photographs of movie stars. So I was rather delighted to spot some delicious photos of Edina Ronay sporting some of the frocks in the boutique itself. Thank heavens for the ‘Vogue’s Own Boutique’ feature. From February 1971.

Here, Edina Ronay stars in clothes from the new Hollywood Clothes Shop, on Hollywood Road, where else? Zipped plaid jacket, below, 14 gns (£14.70). Stylish crepe and sparkling sequin cocktail suit of deep claret, 12 gns (£12.60), with turban of wrapped velvet and snakeskin, with authentic pin, 8gns (£8.40).

Biba Exclusive

biba, glam rock, noosha fox, seventies fashion, side by side

The amazing Mr Brownwindsor has furnished me with a much-desired copy of the [would be a cult if anyone knew about it] film Side by Side. From 1975, it has a lot to recommend it if you are anything like me and care not for plot or characterisation when there’s glam rock groups, immensely outrageous clothes and period location shooting involved. Even my beloved Fox make an appearance.

Most amazingly, there’s an incredible segment recorded on location at the Biba rooftop restaurant. Wicker peacock chairs, fringed lampshades et al. An incredible, and rare, insight into the then-soon-to-be-lost world of Big Biba and one which seems to have itself largely been lost in the mists of time.

No longer!

Mensday: Brian Jones

brian jones, Françoise Hardy, george harrison, Mensday, menswear, suki poitier, The Beatles, the rolling stones, the who

Just because. Because it’s unfair that The Stones have only lost one member after all these years, and it was the beautiful Brian Jones. (And The Who and The Beatles have both been depleted by 50%. ‘S’not fair.) Because he died exactly ten years before I was born (to the very day…). Because he loved stripes, ruffles and brocades. Because he wanted to look like Françoise Hardy. Because he named both of his sons Julian. Because he wore Celia prints. Because men don’t look like that any more.

And because of photos like this…

Avenging Knits

alun hughes, avengerswear, diana rigg, emma peel, honor blackman, knitwear, linda thorson, sixties, tara king, the avengers, Vogue

I’m frequently wittering on about Emma Peel, John Bates, Avengerswear…blah blah. But I have continuously forgotten to scan and post this fabulous double page spread from Vogue (October 1968) of a range of knitwear ‘inspired’ by Linda Thorson’s Tara King character and produced by Ballantyne. I’ve never heard of any Tara Avengerswear gear before or since, perhaps because her wardrobe was pretty dreary half of the time – thanks Alun Hughes, and it’s always struck me as rather sad that she didn’t get her own ‘range’. Even Honor Blackman as Cathy Gale had a range designed by British couturier Frederick Starke!

So it’s awfully nice to know she at least had her own line of cashmere knits. Hurrah!

p.s I am terrible at identifying models, but I love love love her hair.