Monday, 6 July 2015

The Way We Wore: 60s Style

I think I made this one...
It wasn’t all Austin Powers...
Here's the 60s, seen mainly through the prism of knitting patterns. As with interior decor, everything changed around 1966.

In the early 60s we wore:

black-flecked beetle green bouclé tweed, and mohair, sometimes in plaid

very very thick knitted dresses. (Did anybody ever knit/wear them? Must have been so hot.)

big thick knitted cardigans,
worn with a knee-length straight skirt and a bubble-head hairstyle created with rollers and back-combing

buttons and belts
covered with the same material as your dress (It was called a “self” belt.)
stiff fabrics like crimplene, made into tailored clothes. Stiff hair. Tight armholes, tight collars.

stoles in warm wool
(mohair, mink) You wore them with your sleeveless evening dress designed for the central heating most English people didn’t have.


When mini skirts and mod clothes happened, we found we could adapt school gym and tennis skirts (short enough), and divided hockey skirts (right length), and blazers – by sewing on red buttons and wearing them with the rest of our groovy gear. And knee socks and Mary Janes.

beading was very in circa 1966, also big, big paillettes (because plastic was in), especially in iridescent blue on a vivid green woolly hat. (Older women didn't stop wearing hats – they kept up to date with “fun” hats. Or felt stetsons.)

In the mid-60s there was a trend for very tailored capes with Nehru collars. Initially worn by beatniks or early hippies, they quickly became tamed, and were worn only by older ladies (with a Tyrolean hat) and small children (in Welsh tweed). Welsh tweed was popular – we loved its geometric patterns and lurid colours.

all-over ribbing became a thing (“skinny rib” sweaters) with a beanie to match

lurex yarn

turquoise and lilac striped knitted dresses from M&S with straps, a dropped waist and a short knife-edge pleated tennis style skirt. (Also came in navy, green and white – and purple?)

Matching jersey/hat/scarf (worn with a cute expression).

clothes made out of stretchy towelling (Especially holiday clothes for children. In brown and turquoise, with rope detailing.)

PVC printed in bright, bright colours (Raincoats with matching souwester hats. Hot, and quickly became naff. Part of the “fun everything” trend. "Fun fur" was nylon.)

plastic geometric jewellery


stiff brocade in royal blue, beetle green and aqua
– possibly combined

Nylon lace had a moment.

Mannish shirts, and frilly and flouncy blouses were in – from the Tom Jones trend (the film came out in 1963), but combined with stiff, tailored pinafore dresses. There was also a hairstyle called a "Tom Jones": a bow tied on a ponytail at the back of the neck. It quickly became rather frumpy. Shoes also went 18th century, with square toes and buckles.Very short mini skirts went mainstream, combined with a frilly blouse and a huge beehive updo.

In the late 60s crushed velvet took over, and Twiggy went for the 30s Biba look. Cool youths dressed like extras from Game of Thrones. I'm still trying to forget.

60s decor here.

Thursday, 14 May 2015

70s Food


In the 60s, rice was white and had to be “fluffy”. You were supposed to put it in a sieve and run it under the cold tap before cooking to “remove the starch”.

Melon was added to everything, but the melons were never ripe. No wonder they were hard and bitter. (And you just couldn't say you didn't like melon. It was like saying "I'm a chav".) We also ate unripe avocados because we didn’t know any better and you had to eat avocados or be cast out as terminally square.

Plaice and sole were popular – they lasted into the 80s as posh restaurant food. (Delicious with lemon and parsley, or white sauce. If you add halved grapes to the white sauce it becomes Sole Véronique.)

And then the 60s became the 70s and we ate:

mackerel paté
cheese soufflé
dried herbs

prawn cocktail
black forest gateau
steak au poivre

beef Wellington
cheesecake
basil

ratatouille
lamb with rosemary
tarragon vinegar

home-made cheesecake
quiche
marinated minute steak

garlic bread
garlic butter
red beans, red beans, red beans, red beans

brown risotto rice
wholewheat pasta
wholewheat pastry

brown bread like slices of coconut matting
grapefruit in everything
salads made of finely sliced raw button mushrooms and cress


barmbrack (raisin bread flavoured with tea)
Julienne vegetables (cut into little straws)

cassoulet
casseroles


Colman’s French mustard
(Bland, sweet, vinegary and not too hot. Colman’s have stopped making it, but you can get it at Waitrose).

gazpacho and cold soup of all kinds
(Gazpacho was terribly cool because of all the garlic and chilli.)

kebabs made with absolutely anything (cubes of ham, chunks of green pepper, raw mushrooms, cubes of pineapple)

Posh dinner party food consisted of meat stuck together with sweet, bland sauce – like chicken a la king or osso buco. It was such a welcome change from the 50s when everything was separate (meat, potatoes, greens) and sauce was frowned on ("foreign food smothered in complicated sauce"). Food actually became nice and easy to eat. Italy and Spain (paella, foreign holidays) were the inspiration. Also Greek and Middle Eastern – houmous, taramasalata. Really posh food consisted of lobster bisque followed by tournedos Rossini.

Yes, fondue was briefly popular. We didn't just have edible food at last, eating was supposed to be fun. Instead of minding your manners, you could all dip into a fondue pot, or battle hilariously with chopsticks. And food was brightly coloured instead of beige.

Recipes recommended that you “add some of the liquid from the tin”. But at least you didn't have to steam things for hours.

Omelettes, omelettes, omelettes. Omelette pans that you weren’t allowed to wash or use for anything else. Obsessing about omelettes and obsessing about not over-cooking them. Bossily telling other people how to cook omelettes using your own superior method.

Vegetarianism became more popular on ideological and moral grounds, but many expressed complete bafflement about what vegetarians ate, and vegetarians were bossed cruelly for daring to be different. But you had to say "We are all individuals" in case anybody thought you were boring and straight.

All recipes contained tomato puree and crushed garlic. French cooks add one clove of garlic to stock so that it subtly permeates rather than hitting you over the head.

Peppers, peppers, peppers. I've been to the South of France and they don't put peppers in everything. Yes, peppers got everywhere. You couldn't buy a plain tuna sandwich any more – tuna was adulterated with red peppers and sweetcorn and renamed "Mexican tuna". The only place you could escape peppers was the British Home Stores canteen (sadly missed).

Sandwiches
You could still get 50s favourites fish paste, cheese and tomato, cheese and onion, cheese and pickle, cheese and coleslaw, corned beef, liver sausage. All on white sliced bread.

The 60s added bacon and banana, date and cream cheese, and club sandwiches.

In the 70s you could get all of the above, plus brown bread and poppy seed rolls (sigh). Hippy sandwiches were rather wartime: grated carrot and raisin, houmous and bean sprouts, all on very tough brown bread. We pretended to like them – how British! At festivals and rep cinemas you had no choice - unless you went for the oat and date slice.

Vegetarian food was all a bit stodgy and heavy: piles of brown rice and vegetables. Oodles was a vegetarian restaurant chain which offered spinach, potato and gorgonzola pie in wholewheat pastry.

More here, and links to the rest.

Thursday, 21 August 2014

Living in Style - the 60s

Space helmets were a fad

60s interior decor and style in general was a game of two halves. In the early 60s, tasteful Swedish reigned: the lady with the beige handwoven rug with a faint brown stripe was dressed in restrictive tailoring in muted autumnal shades. By 1969 she was wearing purple velvet and living in a squat. But half-way through the decade, the colour was turned up,  and modernism mutated briefly into futurism (space-helmet hats) before morphing into Victoriana and a fascination with the 20s and 30s.

The early 60s interior

“The house was decorated in Coral’s favourite white and shades of green: white cupboards, white fireplace, white Venetian blinds, olive green and white willow-pattern wallpaper. The bathroom had some unusual features: a shaggy bearskin rug and pots of roses on top of the lavatory cistern.” (From a life of Coral Browne the actress – in the 80s she collected antiques and marble obelisks.)

pictures by Canaletto printed on melamine for a table-top

one wall in dark grey with life size silver trees (“Woods” by Cole & Sons), or black with a white brocade pattern

art featuring vintage cars, art made of watch parts in the shape of vintage cars on black velvet.

silhouettes

a giant red brandy glass on top of the television

Swedish glass - thick and dark green

candy striped sheets

nautical memorabilia especially things in the shape of ships’ wheels

16th century style sun faces.

passementerie and fringes on curtains, lampshades and bins – an odd hangover from Victorian upholstery

pale-blue velvet, pale-blue fitted carpet

prints from Boots and Woolworths: the crying boy, exotic maidens, swans, ballet dancers in swan costumes, sunbeam striking through a breaking wave. (By Vernon Ward and J.H. Lynch)

biscuit barrels etc decorated with hearts, diamonds, clubs, spades

spiral staircases

East European folk art

matching wallpaper and curtains


Late 60s decor

Around 1966 it seemed everything changed. Bridget Riley's geometric "dazzle" paintings became fashionable Op Art. Mary Quant's clothes for teenagers were all black and white. We wore white eyeliner. We painted our fingernails white. We chucked out the coral lipstick and wore - white. (Beige was more flattering.) We wore Op Art dresses, Op Art PVC (a new wonder-fabric) raincoats and hats.

The word "trendy" came into being. Trends came thick and fast.

Everything was “fun” and throwaway: paper lampshades, slot-together plastic lampshades, self-assembly paper chairs, modular cuboid furniture, paper knickers (they live on in hospitals), paper carrier bags (perfect for advertising and for making a statement).

Bright Casa Pupo rugs replaced the beige haircord. They came in flowery patterns and went with thick white pottery.

We chucked out the Sheraton and hung circular mirrors with thick red frames. We weren't quite sure what Pop Art was, but we got the look.

We lounged in peacock chairs, basket chairs suspended from the ceiling, or hammocks.

We chucked out our restrictive "girdles" and wore tights instead. Men's shirts and ties were going to be replaced by nylon turtle-neck shirts. Dull evening dress was jazzed up. Middle-aged men grew their hair longer, and grew mutton-chop whiskers which went perfectly with giant blue velvet bow-ties, kipper ties and frilled shirtfronts. (They grew the hair but failed to wash it more often. And it looked very silly combined with a combover. These ghastly aberrations soon faded from the scene.)

Op art was followed by psychedelia: There was a fashion for taking hallucinogenic drugs – because they made you see the world in bright rainbow colours. Manufacturers jumped on the bandwagon and added vivid, clashing colours to their patterns for fabric, clothes and wallpaper: lime-green, orange, purple, pink, yellow, turquoise. Green/purple was popular. Patterns were swirly. Paisley (from Victorian era Indian shawls) was already fashionable – now it became bigger and brighter. Jacobean embroidery went through yet another regeneration. Op Art was remade in lime and pink. You could get a psychedelic mini-kaftan with a ring-pull zip and flared sleeves in M&S. Very daring. Posters, magazines, graphics had the look. It dated very fast.

Psychedelia was replaced by a depressing hippy ambience with burgundy walls, a vague 30s/Victorian feel, everything old and dusty, curtains closed during the day, purple ostrich feathers from Biba, old lace clothes hung up, old shawls, vases with incense (which left dust and bits everywhere). Spanish and Chinese shawls. Kimonos and printed silk.

Women who lived in a room like this had a chest of drawers and dressing table mirror, but the drawers wouldn’t shut, all surfaces were covered with clutter, the mirror was draped with bead necklaces, the dressing table covered with cheap little boxes. The brass bed had clothes hanging off the end. There’d be an orange crate by the bed for a lamp and an overflowing ashtray. The rest of her clothes hung on a hook on the back of the door. If there was a wardrobe her best clothes would be in a heap on the floor of it.

In every bedsit, there was an oblong art deco mirror hanging from a chain, and a central light with a marbleized bowl shade. Both going for £££££s in vintage shops today.

On the walls were posters of Alphonse Mucha and Van Gogh’s sunflowers. People with degrees had prints of Sienese art.

It wasn't really that seamless: hippy flowery fabric was both around in the early 60s – before hippies. When hippies came in (summer of 67), flowery fabric was swiftly labelled “hippy”. Colours were getting brighter before “psychedelia”. Daisies were “in” in the early 60s too - but they were quickly whipped into service for “flower power”.

Fashion Crimes of the Past

More here.

Tuesday, 27 May 2014

The Afterlife of Things 6


Silversmiths love to produce supposedly practical objects for people to give each other as presents. We’ve had silver holders for billiard cue chalk, vesta cases (for phosphorus matches that would catch fire if kept loose in your pocket), tops for canes, comb cases, wine coasters, pencils, handles for shoehorns, buttonhooks and parasols, silver pheasants for your dining table (why?), clocks, menu holders, handbag clasps, cigar-cutters, cigarette cases, hip flasks, snuff boxes, toothpicks, powder compacts, scent bottle tops, lorgnettes (spectacles on a stick), money clips, pill boxes, vinaigrettes…

Vinaigrettes were not small bottles of salad dressing, but boxes containing a sponge soaked in aromatic vinegar. You sniffed it if you felt faint, or if you were surrounded by nasty niffs (before the germ theory of disease caught on, we thought noxious odours caused disease).

So are they making silver phone covers now? Garrards usefully offers a cocktail shaker, a champagne bath, claret jugs with lion and unicorn heads, and a statuette of Edward VII. The Asprey's catalogue has a rather disappointing selection including a birth certificate holder. Thanks, just what I wanted.

Sunday, 18 May 2014

Food in the 60s

Food suddenly became quite... nice! Instead of being used to punish your children, it was used to keep up with the Joneses who had been on holiday to Italy.

eggs Provençale
omelettes
artichoke vinaigrette
prawn cocktail
Instant Whip
Lyons Princess Sandwich

Dairylea cheese triangles (in many flavours, in a presentation box)
chicken/veal/ham/cheese sandwich breadcrumbed and deep fried

steak tartare
almost-raw steaks
steak au poivre
steak Diane (flambee)
filet mignon (very thick steak eaten almost raw - possibly popular because unobtainable during rationing)
peppers, red and green

melon with powdered ginger and no sugar
melon with everything
melon balls (made with a special device)
prosciutto crudo (very thin smoked ham)
prosciutto crudo with melon balls

paprika
Russian salad (delicious, and probably out of a tin or bottle)
Danish pastries

Caerphilly/Cheshire/Wensleydale (very sharp, sour cheese that you had to pretend to like)

trout, trout, trout, trout
flans
cocktail biscuits in the shape of clubs, diamonds, hearts, spades
salade Nicoise
Irish coffee

crème brulee, especially making your own
avocadoes which you had to force your children to like
terrines
tuna mould in a ring
salmon mousse
kipper pate

Briefly, Swiss and Dutch food was very chic – fondue, Emmental and Gruyere, Petit Suisse (a bit like creme fraiche and delicious with caster sugar). Dutch Edam cheese with its red wax coating was everywhere.


Monday, 12 May 2014

The Afterlife of Things 5



What happened to those flexible knives with a serrated edge designed for cutting up grapefruit ready for eating? Grapefruit’s decade was the 60s. You served half a grapefruit as a starter, with sugar (but it was more posh to eat it without while exclaiming how delicious it was). Or you could sugar the halves and put them under the grill (better). Or you could cut it up and add it to salads or sweet’n’sour chicken. You might also use a “runcible spoon” to eat it with – a spoon with a serrated edge. I think these, and the terminology, came in in the 70s. (Borrowed from Edward Lear’s The Owl and the Pussycat: They dined on mince, and slices of quince, which they ate with a runcible spoon.)

More here, and links to the rest.

50s Food

The standard meal was boiled mutton, boiled cabbage and boiled potatoes. It was even worse when the mutton was cold and the cabbage had been boiled for three hours.  We also ate cold tongue and cold ham (both delicious).

Breakfast and tea were lovely (Chelsea buns, lardy cakes, fairy cakes, cup cakes, pink icing, shredded coconut), lunch and dinner were revolting. Huge joints of meat were cooked and eaten for Sunday lunch. (Joints had been unavailable during rationing, wartime and after. After years of bacon and sausages, people fell on steak and roast beef. Not so much fun for children who struggled to cut it and chew it. We’d have been happy with sausages – or macaroni cheese – or fish and chips.)

Anything that might have made this spartan fare palatable – butter, chutney – was strictly rationed, even when rationing was over. The mindset lingered for years.

Vicarage Mutton
Hot on Sunday
Cold on Monday
Hashed on Tuesday
Minced on Wednesday
Curried Thursday
Broth on Friday
Cottage pie Saturday.

But we always seemed to be eating it cold, with overboiled cabbage and plain boiled potatoes – no butter, no marge, no chutney. And there was some silly theory that you couldn't drink while you ate, so you couldn't "wash it down" with the chlorine-flavoured water which was all we were offered.

For school lunch, we were often given “mince” – grey, tasteless and overcooked but at least you didn’t have to try and cut it using adult-size knives and forks, or chew it using tiny milk teeth.

Spaghetti came in. Bohemians were ahead of the game. Many wondered how to eat it, so they cut it into short lengths – sometimes before cooking. Others bossily snapped: “Twirl it round your fork!”, “It’s supposed to be al dente!”, and “Don’t cut it!”. Heinz brought out tinned spaghetti (very soft, in sweet tomato sauce). We ate it on toast. The middle classes had hysterics.