I’m not entirely sure where to start with this image, so I’m not going to. The copy doesn’t even really make sense, but it certainly makes me laugh. Poor Diana; that can’t be a comfortable pose for being towed, and she’s surrounded by twerps!
Personally, I think artificial sweeteners are the very devil, but I cannot deny the fabulousness of the photograph they’ve used to promote their evil ways (yes, yes, I know it’s from 1971, but still…). The bed reminds me of my grandparents’ bed (which I always coveted in a slightly Bedknobs and Broomsticks kind of way), I love the light fitting, mirrors and of course the clothes go without saying.
1975. Scanned from 20th Century Fashion by Ernestine Carter.
Ludmila Savelyeva. Photographed by Avedon. Vogue, June 1969
Eyeliner, done properly, can be a work of art.
Won’t you disappear into midnight again
Ring out the vamp in me, only after dark
Moon sinful as can be, only after dark
It’s wrong to feel so free, only after dark
Only you do it to me, only after dark
Only After Dark by Mick Ronson
…Topshop didn’t exist. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. It sprang from the loins of the Peter Robinson department store, which was originally located near the present Oxford Circus flagship site. Like a greedy devil child, it surpassed and devoured its progenitor.
This rant is brought to you by this gorgeous illustration from Vogue, April 1970. If only I could saunter up to Oxford Circus, enter an old-fashioned department store and buy myself such a delicious Ossie Clark dress today, I’d be a happy lady.
I have been off gallivanting again. Tsk. With good reason though. On Friday, I played the part of ‘plus one’ for the opening of the Holburne Museum in Bath. Closed for three long years, it has been extended and renovated and now relaunched with a wondrous exhibition by none other than Peter Blake.
I was a little too scared to take photos, the gallery attendants looked rather fierce, but decided that you all ought to go and see it anyway. It’s a single room, seemingly small, but with Blake’s found objects and miniature artworks on display that hardly seems to matter at all. From Tom Thumb’s boots, to a waxwork bust of Leslie Caron (taken from life, and very spooky), to Ian Dury’s rhythm stick, via pictures of Brigitte Bardot and her ‘B-side’ (thank you to Tarkus for introducing that phrase into my life) plastered all over a cabinet and two original heads from the Sgt. Pepper album cover. It really requires more gazing time than I was able to dedicate. The rest of the museum, from what I saw, is looking rather splendid and I have fallen in love with a few Gainsboroughs I wouldn’t mind owning.
Then on Saturday, I attended the gorgeous Penny Dreadful’s launch party. Too briefly it would seem. It was lovely to meet up with some other bloggers who I hadn’t met before, and to see Margaret and Sharon Rose again. Seems I missed some Dolly Parton karaoke, but I was heading all the way back to Brighton and didn’t wish for my train to become a pumpkin. Margaret has a gorgeous pad, and some gorgeous vintage, so I would recommend booking in for a session at Maison Penny Dreadful.
Last night, to round off a lovely weekend, I went to see Annabel Giles in ‘Annabel Giles talks too much‘ at the Brighton Fringe. Engaging and very beautiful (cheekbones to die for) she’s also rather funny and self-deprecating. She will speed through her life story, with photos from her modelling days (several I recognised, and would never have guessed were her), stories of Midge Ure, Paula Yates and naff gameshows from my childhood. It’s a surprisingly enjoyable night out, rather like agreeing to go to the pub with someone you haven’t seen in ten years, and who then doesn’t ask you a thing about yourself. Which is rather nice, to be absorbed in a life other than your own, but a risky business. It’s a fine line between brutal honesty and prattling self-obsession, but she walks it confidently.
My only criticism would be, don’t advertise that you will be answering questions about ‘anything’ at the end, and then get a little cagey when someone wants to know why you split from your husband. All or nothing, for me.
I’m doing a little more gallivanting over the next week or so, but I’m trying to line up some blog posts and get some listings up, so please bear with me dear readers. And if you are so inclined, I’d be awfully grateful if anyone felt like voting for me on Lulu’s Vintage.
Gone are the bad old days when all men were the same underneath – uniformly white and basically boring. As regimental and dull in their underwear habits as short back and sides. But things have changed. Men are beginning to realise what girls always knew, that what goes on underneath is just as important as what shows on the surface. And now the choice is enormous – bright stripes and jazzy prints, bikini pants and boxer shorts, slim-cut vests that could double up as leisurewear.
Scanned from Vanity Fair, October 1971. Photos by Marc Leonard.
The first I knew of Joanna was when I happened upon the soundtrack LP in a record shop in Norwich. Don’t even get me started on my idiocy in not buying it*. I was transfixed by the front cover, the synopsis and the fact that it has Donald Sutherland in it. Why had I not seen this before? Thankfully, Mr Brownwindsor was on the case and managed to find a copy for my birthday**.
Geneviève Waïte plays the title character (she would later release an album called Romance is on the Rise, and marry John Phillips after he split from Michelle) and the film was written and directed by Michael Sarne, occasional actor, pop singer and ex-husband of Ghost founder Tanya.
To say it’s an odd film, is to say the least. But odd in that perfect, no-need-to-make-sense kind of way that so many late Sixties films are. Better than Candy but probably not as downright amazing as, say, The Jokers or Smashing Time.
Waïte’s clothes were specially designed by Sue West and Virginia Hamilton-Kearse and were then sold through the Paraphernalia boutique in New York. There’s definitely something quirky and unique about them, almost beyond what you expect for the period. They remind me of Foale and Tuffin, Quorum, Betsey Johnson etc, but have more of a homemade and eccentric ‘costume’ feel to them which is a good match for the character of a young art student.
I can see why Waïte never really continued with much in the way of acting, since I suspect that the role of Joanna was really not very far from her own personality. She’s cute, eccentric and ditsy, but with a healthy dose of logic and sense.
As with so many films of this style and era, it’s well worth watching for the exterior shots of London and Joanna throws up a rare treat: the girls take a ‘shopping’ trip to Bus Stop where the rails are soon raided and no money is spent. Utterly brilliant.
I don’t think my screengrabs even begin to do it justice, but I hope they give you a good taste of what you might expect from the film. The outfit changes are relentless, her facial expressions ever-changing, and the locations are stunning. I’ve also captured what I’m fairly sure are uncredited cameos by Suki Poitier and Chrissie Shrimpton. Enjoy!
*I went back two years later and it was still there! This time, dear reader, I bought it…
** It has subsequently been given a gorgeous release by the BFI. Which always seems to happen when we’ve finally found a dodgy copy of something we were desperate to see. Psychic but annoying BFI…
I have this dress in dark blue. (It’s the notorious £50 dress which Barbara Hulanicki feared wouldn’t sell because of the high price. It sold out.) One of these days, I’m actually going to find the occasion to wear it…
Liz Eggleston 
