Vivienne Westwood

Just plain bad. (I hear you Mum)

  (by Vivienne Westwood and Ian Kelly) It is no secret that, ever since I read “From A to Biba” and “Quant by Quant”, there has been a special place in my daydreams for an assuredly idealised and somewhat chronologically inaccurate 1970s King’s Road, London.  I’ve often imagined  bobbing into  Biba for some knee-boots  and popping into Mary Quant for some pop-art makeup*. But until I read this bio/auto-bio, I never, but never, envisaged wandering into Dame Vivienne’s “Worlds End” store on that same blue-skyed Saturday morning.  Perhaps because it is in such  a different world altogether from the non-challenging swinging London I…

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Time Slip

"Let's Meet at Biba!"

  I once thought I would like to wear a graceful chiton draped over one arm and ascend the shining steps to the Parthenon in Athens’ Golden Age.  Certainly some of that sentiment has inspired my choice to learn Ancient Greek.  However, when I thought a bit more about the role of women at that time I imagined that I might do better nibbling on pastries as I am fitted for wardrobe by  Marie-Antoniette’s couturiers –  but that time had its problems too. You will note that my historical imaginings are far more concerned with the fashion of the time than any…

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