Necklines rise and plunge. Hemlines fall and rocket up again. Bottoms are in and out, bosoms come and go, colours wax and wane, waists move up and down, then vanish and re-appear. Only one thing remains calm, constant and reliable. And that’s black. Good to look at. Restrained. Dramatic. At home in any company. Our own little black number is a case in point. It goes with everything. It’s dry, clean-tasting and elegant. And it’s called Guinness.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Cosmopolitan, September 1973.
Photographed by Martin Riedl. Undated, c.1970s.
Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Successful Colour Photography, 1981.
Hilarious two-page spread from Flair Magazine, January 1971.
It’s easy to forget just how ludicrously over-hyped the whole mini, midi, maxi debate was as it “raged” through the United Kingdom in the late Sixties, early Seventies. Rather like similarly ludicrous ‘debates’ and ‘trends’ of the here and now, although I suspect I will feel more queasy when, in my Sixties, I’m re-reading articles about the merits of wearing pyjamas in public, skinny jeans (yes, they suit everyone…no, wait, they don’t suit everyone. Bring back the flare!) and the whole harem pant (a.k.a Poo-catcher) debacle. Actually, wait, they all make me feel queasy now anyway.
I wish modern newspapers would always make sure to get the opinion of a ‘freaked out hippie’, a ‘pipe smoker’ and a ‘retired boozer’, it would make life far more enjoyable.