Lily Allen's new 'vintage inspired' line of clothing.

Lily Allen looking wonderful.

 

Lily Allen has launched her collection of vintage inspired fashion on the back of opening her boutique Lucy in Disguise. I’m always torn on the subject of Lily Allen.  She is a genuinely pretty woman and I liked some of her music, she is also a bit useless on the PR front, I’m inclined to blame it on this more than fame whoredom.  Additionally she has my sympathies after recent tragic events and I think there are worse crimes than being a public school mockney.  

I was actually hoping to like her new collection, I’m keen on vintage styles being reproduced or even reworked and hoping for a knock on effect.  Prada’s collection is rumoured to be fortiesish this Autumn and if it has anything like the daft effect of producing all that fruit on clothes in the high street like their last collection did this summer I’ll be happy.  The problem is that my first reaction to Lily’s collect was a big ‘ugh’. To be honest it did not help that the inspiration for many dresses was 70’s so not actually vintage but I’m getting used to the fashion world's loose lipped application of the word. Just because they keep on calling it vintage won’t make it so,  although it may do wonders for marketing!  It was probably the fact that the first thing I saw was a play suit that sat somewhere between tacky burlesque kit and Ann Summers.

Arrrghhhh....go to Tara Starlet!

 

Then I reminded myself that these clothes were not produced with anyone like me in mind, and not at all for the vintage enthusiast. Rather they are for the kind of girl who shops at Topshop and wants to flash a bit more cash. The stuff is far more contemporary than vintage.  I think that Lily should have simply marketed the stuff as inspired by her taste as I can see this more in the clothing and that is completely appropriate. The ones intended to hark back to fashion eras miss the mark, a long black dress with elegant trimmings really needs sleeves of some kind, a mint coloured dress is almost there but goes a bit modern high street with the trimmings. My favourite is a seventies inspired blue dress, nice colour and looks lovely on Miss Allen.  But in short there is nothing there that I would wear, or I suspect many readers of this blog would wear. You can find more vintage redolent clothing in Monsoon and my favourite reproduction/vintage inspired dress companies produce better stuff. After all you could get a Whirling Turban dress for the same price as Lily’s.

Nice silhouette, needs sleeves.

 

Having said this I like the idea of smaller clothes lines and if this is a success maybe she will be braver in her clothing choices, she has someone on board who was at Oasis and who has form in producing good occasion clothing so this could happen. 

What do you people think, would you wear it? Have a look at Katy Chutzpahs blog for a more, ahem, reasoned take on the collection.

Vintage Survey part 1.

What is your favourite era?	Percentage
1890-1910	5.0%
1920’s	3.0%
1930’s	14.0%
1940’s	22.0%
1950’s	19.0%
A combination of the above	37.0%

Thank you to everyone who filled out the ‘Grand Vintage Inquisition’, which was in all honesty more of a friendly nose around.  Just fewer than 150 people did and replies came from a variety of nations plus a good number of male respondents (thanks chaps!). This was a sample good enough to provide an overview of how people feel about vintage.

Why did I do it? Well there seems to be a lot of media confusion about ‘vintage’ aficionados, and a lot of events organised seem to get it ‘wrong’. It is easy to criticise and it appeared from comments on blogs that as an audience this group of people is very tricky to pin down. Probably a good thing, who wants to be pinned down? Actually on second thoughts that question should be re-phrased! The survey did provide an interesting snapshot, nothing more was possible with free online survey software. 

I started off by asking which period most influenced people; the 1940’s was, perhaps predictably the most popular single period. However it by no means dominated, some preferred the Edwardian period and the 1920’s, with Downton Abbey and Boardwalk Empire on the go this might increase. The largest number of people declared that they like a mixture of periods which seems to imply that the so called ‘vintage scene’ is not as influenced by re-enactors or historical groups as it might have once been nor is it particularly homogenous.

Someone also asked why I didn’t include the 1960’s as an option? Personally I regard it as ‘retro’ rather than vintage strictly speaking, although applying the 50 year rule 1960 may now count as vintage. Perhaps there are just too many of us who remember the sixties so it doesn’t have the distance of previous decades.  However if you are younger this might be a moot point. The views of any 60’s aficionados were just as relevant in terms of this questionnaire and their responses welcome. It is probably a good subject for a blog post though: are the 1960’s ‘vintage’?

The second set of questions asked why people were drawn to the vintage scene?   I was interested in this. From my own circle I noticed that people seem to have filtered in from other ‘alternative’ elements, ie Goth, punk, skater etc.  The sample in the survey, although revealed a spread of major influences. Interest in a particular period inspired most, but the ‘emotional response’ and ‘it’s a mystery’ results were high. It indicates the pull is not so much a trend thing for most. This explains the longevity of people’s interest in vintage, it’s genuine. 

Next time I’ll reveal the popular inspirations for respondents, some of the answers were very interesting and there were some clear favourites. As ever comments are welcome!

Pip! Pip!

What is your major influence ?

Why do we do it!?

There are a plethora of vintage blogs out there on the information boulevard. The ones I enjoy,and this includes not just vintage blogs are those where the author’s character shines through the text. Effectively the best blogs are diaries, I really don’t like the PR/Sales pages masquerading as blogs. You can see through them in a nanosecond and it is disappointing how many of these faux blogs get recognition, especially when you can see the PR  media rewarding it’s own and thinking the idiot public don’t cotton on. That’s why it is nice to see sites such as Diary of a Vintage Girl, Retro Chick and Katie Chutzpah  , because behind everyone of them is a distinct personality. If blogs are essentially egotistical you want the egos behind them to be interesting. I’m happy with commercial bloggers if they are supporting some kind of customer community or rewarding loyal interest, it is just those tedious ‘this is really great!’ (I’m not flogging it, really I’m not) sites that peeve me. The only one’s that peeve me more are those ‘pictures of people on the streets looking kool’ ones. Sheesh!

Community blogs are good too, my favourite is Retro to Go, trawling through the retail world looking for cool things so I don’t have to. I get the impression that the bods behind this know what they are talking about unlike some. I would also like to say that I like the very occasional blogger as much as the prolific one, one interesting post in two months is great.  I do sometimes wonder if the cartoon below applies to me!  For some follower numbers are a competitive thing. I am surprised and grateful any one follows this blog (thank you!) but would probably persevere even if only 20 people bothered although I appreciate it and wish I had more time to communicate with people who make contact in this way. I write to feel in some small spare moments, and I type quickly so for me this is a time-filler as much as anything else.

Where is this blog coming from though? It is not technically ‘vintage’ in the popular sense. I am not part of the new retro scene, it appeared like a magic beanstalk when I was abroad. Before going and in the eighties I knew the same group of  people; re-enactors, jive fans, rockabillies, Goths and the willfully eccentric who now get pigeonholed generally in this nebulous amorphous vintage thing. Some are annoyed by this and you can see it in the anti-burlesque feeling that seems to be circulating.

I’d like to say I am coming at it from the grumpy forty-something Londoner on the loose direction and cannot make any claims to charm, particular erudition or style. I do however know the bits of the city I know very well. This can be a source of annoyance, if only to myself. It is nice when people discover things and share them, but not when they rave they have discovered somewhere that has been known to Londoners forever. It isn’t intentional, it’s the way journalism tends to be now: new, new, new.  I like the old, old, old. Boring farts like me remember how much Francis Bacon smelt, , that Norman in the Coach could sometimes be quite nice and which stool in which pub a famous serial killer used to favour.  People like me must  sometimes be tedious, the 'yawn, been there, did it before you and did it better' brigade.  But to be fair you natural get really irked to read some fellow blogger describing a wonderful 'vintage' place that you personally know has been utterly ruined, in a recent refurb or listing a useless list of ‘vintage’ events and suggesting even crappier shops.  Of course it is all relative, my shit is someone else’s treasure. But still you want to twat them sometimes, but don’t  verbally or otherwise because there is really no excuse for rudeness and an opinion is an opinion. But nontheless...grrrr!

What Redlegs aspires to...

Mind you I am old fashioned and like nice chatty friendly people, anywhere, dressed in any way and anyone like that will get a Redlegs thumbs up even if they are all wearing Abercrombie and Fitch. But I like places, restaurants and bars with character and pfizz. They don’t need to be clean or glamorous. I like old baggishness in men and women (a state of mind rather than an age) and a touch of bad behaviour. I just hope to connect with this kind of person. My aversion is to shiny young unquestioning minds (not peeps) perhaps because I used to be a teacher and hated dealing with that kind of child. I preferred the ones who made fart noises and giggled. That probably sums up my approach to life: live it with fart noises and giggles, and if possible nice shoesies, a bottle of rum and an accommodating person on your arm.

More often he reality...

I’d like to know what motivates other bloggers to blurb on blogs? Is it wanting to meet people, a time-filler, to help their business or to hone their writing skills? Why do people read blogs? I am nosy.. I want to know!

beehiveration.

It’s good to try something new. On Saturday I was heading out to first of all the Bram Stoker Dinner and then afterwards to quickly hook up with friends at the Mouthful O’ Jam night in Haringay.  I wore a vintage early fifties black satin crepe bolero with my emerald satin Vivien of Holloway circle dress and anticipated the usual long hair set. However it was blowy, possibly damp and I was feeling lazy and tired. So I popped into Soho on the way out and got Amy at Powderpuff to give me a ‘do’.  I resisted the usual pull of victory rolls and thought channelling Madmen might be a good change, and hopefully I’d end up looking like Joan Holloway’s ageing great aunty. I have that lady's embonpoint and hair alone sadly. This really left me with a choice between up-flicks at the end or an up do and I plumped for the queen of all retro-updo’s: the beehive 

Audrey's Hive

 My do was a medium height soft  puffy beehive, of the French pleat variety. I wouldn’t go for it if I had a short fringe and haven’t worn one for several years. You do feel like you are wearing a beehive, it is such a statement. That would have needed to be on someone younger or you risk looking like an actress out of an early sixties kitchen sink drama. I like this style when it is long enough to sweep across your face or tuck behind your ears. There are examples plenty of the beehive looking elegant, my favourite is Dusty Springfield although the most famous hive is the strangely conservative one donned by Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I recall that in 2008 Amy Winehouse’s beehive was voted the worst celebrity hairstyle. I was cross about that, our Amy might have her skanky moments but that hair is a big style statement. I’d have voted in a whole army of R & B star mingingness or Wag ironed extensions. The Beehive I believe has a retro appeal of it’s own and infers retro glamour and class, or soul diva, or sixties starlet or uber housewife or at it’s very worst (which is still appealing) Bet Lynch Barmaid chic. If this hairstyle had a sound track it would be an all girl Motown one.

Amy Winehouse dons a wig yet the beehive is not actually that difficult to style. Much easier than rolls or a set and I can make a decent fist of it when I try. A lot depends on the texture of your hair. If it is normal to thick it will stay up well once back combed and shoulder length hair works well. Mine requires no rollers or volume beforehand   The trick is in the backcombing, this style is a ‘construction’ and it is all in the preparation. This isn’t for those who treat their hair like a precious piece of cashmere. Begin looking like beetlejuice with you hair on end and it is easy to pin and the back and then gently brush and smooth back into the hive shape at the front.  It takes less hairspray to hold in shape than a 30’s or 40’s set and was remarkably impervious to blasts of wind. Brushing out at the end of the evening has to be brisk and tough and you do end up looking like Beetlejuice again.

Yours truly captured on mobile phone.

 It attracted far more attention when I was out than my usual sets or styles, we forget how ubiquitous thirties and forties styles have become. The beehive is still largely relegated to repeats of Heartbeat and the odd sixties revival event. Quite a few people wanted to pat it, a couple of others wondered if it were my own hair and this is despite the fact it wasn’t the full Marge Simpson. I wouldn’t have it all the time, but for a night it was fun to have big hair. I liked the fact it was so dressy and it sets off earrings, necklaces and long necks beautifully. It also entertains anyone lucky enough to see you at the end of the night in the process of brushing it out. Or scares them. Depending…

xxx

The aftermath!

Here's to the Night!

On Saturday Fruity played some gypsyish accordion ditty. It made you want to be sitting in a Paris café by night, hugging both your absinthe and a sailor. Well it would have made me want to be there if I hadn’t been at the Don’t Dali with the Devil party.

Brassai photograph.

Night is a world lit by itself.  ~Antonio Porchia,

People are cat or dog people. They are hate/love Marmite people and they are Day or Night people. I’m a dog/hate/night person. It’s physiological if nothing else, some people don’t really catch up with being awake until, oh, about 3pm. Even when well getting out of bed before nine am is like pulling myself from a vat of treacle. Fortunately my chap is the same, unfortunately unless I choose to be a waiter, actress or night bus driver most of the world isn’t.

For the happiest life, rigorously plan your days, leave your nights open to chance.  ~Mignon McLaughlin

Biology aside it could be upbringing, or being brought up properly. Until they are about nine most children need to be in bed well before that hour. For myself and a few others this was terrible, the adults had the best television and the best fun when we were dismissed. Being an adult I now understand the necessity of getting downtime from brats but then it was just cruel, especially as I really really wanted to watch Monty Python’s Flying Circus sooo much and it came on just after the deadly strike of the clock at eight. So the evenings are a time of promise, and dusk (the most beautiful time of day to me) heralds all the best kinds of fun. Not for me  larks, yomping and breakfast.

‘Whoever thinks of going to bed before twelve o'clock is a scoundrel.’  ~Samuel Johnson

I'm romantically drawn to the night and three ideals appeal. One is the Paris of the twenties as shown in Brassai photos. All those deranged art students, hard drinking plebs and stylishly skanky ladies of the night. Lots of gypsy accordion music there. Then I like the idea of the West End in the late 20’s and early 30’s, supper clubs, dazzle balls and grand dinners all converging like a scene from an Anthony Powell novel, laced with dangerous foreigners, looming wars, glamorous cars and furious dancing. Finally Soho in the 40’s and 50’s, dingy bohemian and clever. Spivs, painters and nutters roaming through the streets looking for liaisons, free drinks and a clever quip. All at night. 

Chelsea Arts Club Ball.

 Night is the other half of life, and the better half.    GOETHE

We look better and sound better by night. It doesn’t matter so much how young and fresh you are, a few sequins or an old little black dress goes a long way in the inky twilight and where and who you know are more important than daddy, your job or your income. The night is mysterious, the later it gets the less boring the people become (or possibly the drunker you get). And when the night does end it comes with the challenge of the journey home: classic black taxi if you are flush but lairy night bus more usually boarded. My life  so far and most of the best memories are a combination of nights, it’s where you make and break romances, meet your best friends and your best enemies. The thing I most begrudge work is it’s curtailment of my nights and the imposition of mornings.  Should I win the lottery I imagine mentally the parties I’ll throw, the places I’ll drink, the clubs I’ll open. The worst aspect of my illness at present is the fact that I tire and retire at a stupid time. Everyone will know I am well when they see me careering down Greek Street at 2am with a stupid grin on my face reeking of tequila. Here’s to the night! xxx

Soho in the fifties.

Don't Dali with the Devil, a vintage Halloween.

Well last night saw Torquil and I traipse off to  Fleur de Guerre's shindig at the Fox. Torquil went as a surreal momento mori with a clock on his hat and various other symbols of fleeting existence upon his person. I went as a Catrina, a Mexican Day of the Dead (which is tomorrow!) lady with a Sugar Skull painted face.  I realised once I started painting that I didn't have proper brushes so the result was sloppier than I hoped but it was ok. It actually took less time than my usual warpaint, which in my case is actually camouflage. The colours were greasepaint from Charles Fox in Covent Garden and felt surprisingly light, although I had problems remembering not to touch my face for the whole evening and air kissing was essential.

My dress was Vivien of Holloways Day of the Dead circle halterneck which I have been wearing to .. ahem.. death. The Lace necklace was believe it or not from a stand near the salad aisle at Sainsbury's and the flowers etc are things I had hanging around the place. It was a lazy choice really but I jump at any chance to wear my big frou frou petticoat.

Fleur came as Frida Kahlo, which was my first choice (great minds think alike) however I think that Fleur gives great monobrow, even facial hair suits the lady!

Here is Torquil, note the small fly adorning his characteristic monocle and the blood spattered camelia: every gent should have one.  Katie Chutzpah has already blogged on the difficulties of Halloween dress and avoided the pitfalls with an expertly applied make-up mask, Galliano dress and a beautiful eye ring from Butler and Wilson.

The delectable Ree Ree Rockette was manning the door showing off her new pink hair and her steely ability to say 'non' to scruffbags. Entertainment was provided by a live band, the sultrily michievous Emerald Fontaine performed, the Vintage Poetess recited and Fruity did whatever it is he does on the decks.  He still didn't play Britney but at least put on my favourite Elvis track: Devil in Disguise on. Other vintage blogerettes in attendance included Retro Chick and Smuterella. Below I have put a selection of photos of various revellers, if one of them is of you feel welcome to nab it!  Minn x

Too many frocks!

To sell or not to sell. I have a lot of clothes that don’t fit. The problem is that they don’t fit by a smallish margin but big enough a margin to require a month of dedicated dieting and I am not sure I can be bothered. Then again perhaps something might happen, I might slim down and regret disposing of my lovely things.

This is not helped by my reluctance to go the ebay route. I hear of the problems professional organised ebayers have and additionally, I loathe post offices. There isn’t actually one within easy reach of work or home. And then there is the packing of parcels.

I had considered a stall, there seem to be a few places where you can rent these but this incurs a whole new series of problems. How do I get tons of clothes across town if I cannot drive? What about coat racks? Cash floats? Would I feel bad if no one wanted to buy anything or would I under price everything to be kind? On the other hand I am running out of space.

Amongst the small size 12 things I should dispose of are the perfect utility style 40’s dress in a light aqua wool,  a home sewn early 50’s swing dress and matching bolero, a gorgeous Chinese silk shanghai tang dress, a wonderful replica 30’s evening dress by Frank Usher and so forth. I should really also get rid of the 50’s red straw cap trimmed with lovely little blackberries and silk leaves, fabulous on a brunette rather than a red head. Perhaps I’ll just stick some photos on here, or more likely they will just loiter loved but unworn in my wardrobe.

I cannot, however bear to dispose of the size 10-12 Paul Smith black crepe ultra elegant cocktail dress with the mustard coloured silk lining. Who knows, perhaps when I am better if I take up jiving I might be back to my post-Japan shape? But then what would I do with all my lovely size 14 frocks?!

Has anyone out there been able to find their clothes new homes painlessly? Or does anyone share my pain?

Halloween costuming...

I’ve been thinking about this Halloween costume business. If you just want to go for the plastic rubber cheap satin shiny plastic approach it is easy enough if rather over-priced. The sensible approach, which my own mother has just taken is to invest in a moderately high quality outfit and wear it every year. I’d get bored. There are easy options, the witch simply requires a pointy hat, horns and cat ears are easy enough. I’d suggest that if any vintage ladies out there are on the Halloween pull the feline approach is a good one. Men do like cat outfits, touch of Sado masochism, very feminine and safely naughty. I once had some..ahem..success with a Korean emperor whilst dressed as a tiger. Problem is of course that it can be difficult to work out what a man actually looks like if he is disguised as a zombie who has incidentally been run over by a truck…

Naturally the Elviras always look good although I prefer Wednesday Addams as an outfit. One of the best outfits I ever saw was Salome, carrying the head of John the Baptist on a plate…

These are a few of the ideas I came up with whilst considering what to do for Don’t Dali with the Devil, this year’s chosen Halloween event. My considerations are that it should still leave me looking fairly pleasant, should not involve bulky impossible costumes, should be inexpensive and should not be a zombie.

a)     An anti vampire protester. Cribbed from True Blood I would wear pastel fifties clothes, hair up and glasses and march around with a placard stating ‘God Hates Fangs’.

b)    Wilma from the Flintstones. Handy for red heads. Merely involves a stylish leopard print dress, a nicely rolled and pinned hair do, fifties-sixties make up and some chunky jewellery.

c)     Carmen Miranda. A nylon turban, some plastic toy fruit and superglue. Then whatever fabulous forties themed outfit I could dig out.

d)      Aviatrix. Goggles, jodhpurs, and a white scarf with wire sewn into it so it looks like it is flying behind you.

e)        Horns and a blue vintage dress: Devil in a blue dress.

f)      Fortuna, decorate hair and clothing with gambling accoutrements, playing cards, casino chips. Have a hat made from a roulette wheel.

g)       A pierrot, the ruff is easy to make out of an old curtain (I’ve seen it done with doilies), hair slicked back and a velvet dress. Very thirties in a Beatonesque way.

This year however I will probably go for a Mexican Day of the Dead outfit to celebrate my affection for tequila.  But what I would really like to do one year is rope in 3 friends and do a four horse women of the apocalypse, I’d even be prepared to be pestilence.  

Is Glamour Dead?....

  

I sometimes wonder if the reason the past appeals so much is that we have lost the knack of glamour. My friend Fleur bought me a book on the subject for my birthday. It suggested that ‘glamour’ was a curiously 20^th century phenomenon linked to a heady combination of greater emancipation of women, spending power, Hollywood movies and the growth of other media such as photography and magazine publishing. It is most distilled in the flashier more distinctive movie stars; the Theda Baras, the Marlene Dietrichs and the Mae Wests, With their macquillage, their nails, their artificial hair and their otherworldly air of danger they inspired stenographers and shop clerks across the globe to experiment with their looks and their image. Some might argue that glamour existed before the 20^th century, but did it? I feel that elegance, style, quality and fashion are sometimes natural consequences of having money and of being able to buy the finest materials and pay the most talented craftsmen. This is why upper class uniforms such as hunting pink are both stylish and practical. Glamour is more egalitarian although it may well be an addendum to elegance. But it is a rare thing these days. In fact if I think really hard we haven’t really seen much of it in recent decades.  Couture doesn’t count, couture is the equivalent of grand dresses made for grand dames and it doesn’t have the same impact (sorry to the Fashionistas out there!).

It seems to me that Glamour is dead in the contemporary western world of fashion. I cannot remember glamour being present since the early 80’s. I’m not saying there are not glamorous individuals out there just that there doesn’t seem to be any urge to pursue glamour in its original sense more widely. Look at how the word itself has become devalued, it is now applied to topless models and the irony that might have once been implied has gone.

A woman in her twenties may feel irritated by my assertion. Surely the 21^st woman is as obsessed with grooming as those of any previous generation? However the hair blonding, limb browning, short hems and hair straightening is not about glamour. It is about looking as young as possible and as obviously sexually alluring as possible. Glamour, if anything would place women in an particular area of womanhood and femininity as much as one of looking youthful. The makeup and grooming of a glamorous past is actually, by our modern standards ‘ageing’.  The actresses who dominate the red carpet do not emanate romance, mystery or allure. They aspire to youthfulness, approachability and a look of fitness. Modern young women reflect this with an overwhelming tendency towards relaxed or sports clothing for leisure and obvious sexual signalling on a night out.

The early sixties was still glamorous, we hadn’t entirely succumbed to relaxed leisure wear, the seventies despite being a jeans hell also had that darkly shaded velvety decadent lost girl in a souk thing. The early 80’s had the magnificently mad New Romantics being eyed up suspiciously by bejewelled Goths. Since then it seems that outside work we have regressed to the middle ages. Basic clothes in practical fabrics, layered for comfort and emblazoned with emblems. Les generously it could be suggested, especially when it comes to male fashion that things have simply become infantilised. That sounds snobby, but although comfort is good, it doesn’t have to be basic. When societies develop their trappings become more complex and, I stress this word, interesting. Things seem to be going backwards. The Cheryl Coles, Cameron Diaz’s and thin US television poppets are not glamorous but strangely two dimensional despite good looks. They are obvious symbols of health and youth, no thought is required and the look is beyond those not genetically blesses or who are simply old.

I’d like to sound a clarion call to ‘Glamour’, not all the time but at least on occasion. There is no template; it requires a little effort but not necessarily much money. It may make us look our age rather than display a conditioned urge to seem younger. It has character, it is interesting and also, just a bit dangerous. Glamour seemed to have been for our grandmother’s a bit of a mask and quite a treat. To be an ordinary women in the 20^th century, slowly but steadily escaping for the need to simply dress to match your income and class must have been thrilling. Think of all those Bernices bobbing their hair, blitz babes in red lipstick and beehived ancestresses of ours. There may be a backlash, what if in the future we have granddaughters who rediscover glamour, what are they going to think of their bland natural nans? Will they look just like those frumpy figures in dun coloured long frocks who pose warily in so many turn of the century photographs. I have seen photos of 1930’s relatives dressed as Pierrots, glamorous women in uniform, a drop dead gorgeous auntie in the late fifties and my mother working the full Dusty Springfield look. Just imagine, in 50 years it will be a faded image of someone with un-brushed hair, plastic flip flops and a beige baggy t-shirt.