“…and the award for Most Literal Album Cover of the Decade goes to….”
Best 20p I have ever spent/worst wig I’ve ever seen…
Many, many months ago, I had a wonderfully exciting email from a gentleman called John Offenbach.
Under a couple of listings I have found for David Silverman, you say ‘I wish I knew who David Silverman was..’ well, he was my dad, and he died at the age of 44, thirty years ago.
Needless to say, I was gobsmacked. After all this time, and all my grumbling about not knowing anything about him, here it was! With John’s permission, I am able to share a little information about the man whose clothes continue to make many vintage-lovers very, very happy.
“His business was in Great Titchfield Street in the Sixties and Seventies which as you know was London’s garment district. He was successful, his first business was called Marlborough Dresses which he sold … and he followed that up with David Silverman Dresses. He was a good friend of Steven Marks and as I understand it, lent Steven some desk space for him to start up Steven Marks Coats before he launched French Connection.
Dad was interested in all things visual. He could paint a likeness, and we would often talk about typography and advertising. He chain-smoked Gauloise cigarettes and liked to wear a cashmere roll neck jumper.
He told me that in younger days he had an underground game of cards which travelled around London and eventually got the attention of the Krays. (I don’t know if this is true) but it had to be wound down as it got out of hand, and he told me he needed a body guard for a while.”
I’m not sure it gets much more Sixties than roll neck sweaters, gauloises and The Krays… He sounds like my kind of guy!
John was also kind enough to let me show you a photo of his father, but I would ask that it is not reproduced without permission.
To celebrate this victory in the face of anonymity, I have just listed a David Silverman dress over at Vintage-a-Peel:
…and also enclose photos of some other pieces I’ve had in over the years!

Celia Hammond with Mrs Hammond. Born in Indonesia. Says she was ‘quite plump’ when she first walked into Lucy Clayton’s. “I started losing weight when I stopped worrying about it.” Confesses that she’s been in modelling so long that these days the money is the main attraction.
Celia’s dress by Jean Muir
Photographed by Guy Cross. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from The Daily Telegraph Magazine, November 22nd 1968.

Hylette Adolphe with Mrs Terese Adolphe. Born in Mauritius, convent-educated. Finds modelling “very hard and a bit depressing, but on the whole quite nice.” Recently in Corfu, where she had to learn to ride a Roman chariot for a German swimwear ad. Found it “quite terrifying”.
Hylette’s dress by Hylan Brooker to order from Worth Related Couture.

Paulene Stone with Mrs Sylvia Stone. After leaving school with six O-levels, she won a competition in a women’s magazine, part of the prize being a modelling course. She says she always wanted to be a model. “Apparently, I was always talking about it when I was a little girl.”
Pauline’s outfit by Simon Massey at Wallis.

Sandra Paul with Mrs Rosalie Paul. Born in Malta, where her father was an RAF doctor. Decided against going to university and instead she took a course at Lucy Clayton’s. Says about modelling that “in a funny way you enjoy it the more experienced and adaptable you become.”
Sandra’s dress by Marrian-McDonnell

Sarah Stuart with Mrs Croker Poole. Born in India, Sarah Stuart was educated in England and Paris (“no make-up lessons; we worked hard at French, history and commerce”). Took up modelling when her marriage broke up. Says it’s hard work – “getting up early, packing heavy cases…”
Sarah’s trouser suit by Gerald McCann at Vanessa Frye.
“Start squaring your shoulders, tightening your belt and walking on four-inch heels…”
A phenomenal editorial which feels very ahead of its time. This is really the birth of ‘Power Dressing’, from February 1979. There’s a curious juxtaposition of old and new, the old telephone and boudoir chair in the final photo suggest the origins of these suits in the Forties while the clunky ‘mobile phone’ is the signpost to the unknown future. Pre-Eighties and pre-Thatcher (just) – even pre-Miss Peelpants (also, just!) – there’s something quite charming about the modest silhouette here – which is really rather hard to equate with the horrors which were to come. These feel more in line with the New Romantic and Goth garments from the 1980s which I feel passionate about and choose to collect (like Sarah Whitworth, Symphony of Shadows etc), than with Yuppies and Dynasty, although you can just as equally see their genesis here.
Photographed by Christa Peters. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Cosmpolitan, February 1979.

Left: Coat by Young Jaeger. Trousers by Angela at London Town. Shirt by James Drew. Striped waistcoat at Bus Stop. Right: Borg jacket by Gerald McCann. Angora trousers by Mary Farrin. Socks by Mary Quant. Clogs by The Chelsea Cobbler at Russell and Bromley.
Photographed by Elisabeth Novick. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Vanity Fair, October 1971

Tina Chow in one of her seventeen or eighteen Fortuny dresses: black pleated silk with laced sleeves and black and white beadwork, dating from just before 1920.
Another one to add to the pile of ‘liking vintage is nothing new or extraordinary’ is this illustration and the article it accompanies entitled: “Come up and see my Schiaparellis”, promoting an upcoming Christie’s sale. I have plucked some choice sections, but the whole article is brilliant.
“Once an area in which museums could bid uncontested for period clothes, dealers and private customers now more or less consistently outbid institutional collectors and have pushed prices to dizzy heights which inflation alone could not have done.“
“The collector pur sang, the ideal, is Tina Chow, wife of the restauranteur. Her fan club is led by cheerleader Madeleine Ginsburg: ‘Tina Chow buys Fortunys. Her husband loves her to wear them, and she takes impeccable care of the dresses… We know Mrs Chow loves the dresses as we do, and she cares about them and cares for them. Poor Mrs Chow, when she goes to parties in one of her Fortuny dresses she only stands up and does not even eat’.”
“[dress as a subject] seems, 99 times out of 100, to attract the crackpot, the misguided or the downright perverted. Many is the museum whose shoe or underwear collection has been transformed overnight by the demise of some lonely soul whose solace was in rooms or drawers full of leather and lingerie.” – Quote from Roy Strong
“It is the passion to collect old clothes. Not rag picking, you understand, but Balenciagas and Vionnets and Jean Muirs and that sort of thing.”
Nice to see Jean Muir was already being talked about in the same breath as Vionnet et al, even as early as 1978.
Illustration by Angela Landels. Scanned by Miss Peelpants from Harpers and Queen, December 1978.
So today, I went to pick up an enormous job lot of magazines I bought on eBay. It’s a very mixed bag, but included some early Cosmopolitans (which always get me rather excitable…). Flicking through a few tonight, what should fall out of the October 1972 copy, but bloody junk advertising. Pah! Typical! But, wait, Seventies junk advertising is no ordinary advertising. It was the specially made Smirnoff guide to seduction (Complete and unabridged!) – “Elements of all the best seductions as discovered by Cosmopolitan for Smirnoff” with six top models who “reveal their personal approaches to the art“. Isn’t it glorious? Best of all, this is the kind of ephemera which falls out of a magazine and we just throw away, but somehow this survived…
Photographer and garments uncredited. Scanned by Miss Peelpants. Believed to date from October 1972.