Knit One, Purloin One

Today it's my pleasure to share some images from a Villawool Hand Knits booklet from the mid-60s (don't you love the "knitted" Villawool logo?).  There are some pleasingly odd pictures and delectable vintage woollens herein, but what initially struck me was the face of the model on the cover, who appears to be stealthily tip-toeing out of a waiting room, clutching a purloined magazine.  Does she remind you of anyone?

 

Seems that her accomplice is left pondering how to slink past the receptionist without attracting attention to the massive modern painting she's lifted from the wall.  Don't worry honey, just a little more swagger and the hypnotically swaying red fringe of your stunning jumper will be all she notices.  Why not take the cherub wall plaque while you're at it?

Having a decoy dressed nearly identically is always useful when it comes time for the police identity line-up.  

"The woman I saw stealing the book was a blonde in a sweater.  Yes, I'm certain of it.  But... just a moment... she could have been a red-head... or was it a cardigan she was wearing?  I'm sure it was some sort of Aran style knit. Yes, no, I'm almost certain of that. Officer, I can't think... could I have a glass of water?"

It's Nerida's first day on decoy duty and after forty minutes of attracting every eye to the very window she was doing her best to shield, she wonders whether she should have asked the girls what "unobtrusive" actually meant....

We find Jocelyn standing guard at the back door, wrapped in an oversized orange marle sweater with dauntingly massive pom-pom trimmed collar, and impenetrable dreams of revenge. 

Meanwhile, Delores having finished the last few rows of her suit has used her crochet hook to pick the lock of the liquor cabinet.  No icon of sobriety came up with those daringly chic half-concealed buttons.

Back at headquarters, religious door-knockers are easily deterred if you greet them clutching a mock-up coven manual and invite them in for tea and sacrificial goats.  

Australia in the 1960s was a lovely place, so very far from the rest of the world that a major pattern company could describe a suit as "Chanel Style" without fear of litigation.  Looking at these trompe l'oeil pockets it's safe to assume that the worst Chanel's lawyers might have done was to spray their colleagues with café au lait as they spluttered with incredulous laughter.  Not even the models could contain their mirth at the optimistic description.

Okay, any takers on a look-alike for Suspect Number One?

I thought she could easily masquerade as The Thunderbirds' Lady Penelope.  Perhaps it's not the facial resemblance so much as her disquieting air of being not - absolutely - human.

 

(Note: if any of these designs totally grab you, drop me a line and I'll be 

glad to email you a scan of the pattern.  Have your llama wool ready!)

A Couple of Kinks in 60's Fashion

For weeks now I've been searching for just the right words to accompany the dreamy improbability of these mid-60s images. But I think after all they can do most of the talking for themselves.

The Kinks' drummer Mick Avory, endearingly wooden and the most ham-handed of dandies, models for Carnaby Street's John Stephen:





(Seen here with singer Kiki Dee.)


And teenage lead guitarist Dave Davies, adapting to the singular lack of props with leonine grace, notches up this Terylene campaign on his tally of adventures - sartorial and otherwise - in Swinging London. You could just tell that Dave would spend the remainder of the sixties not chatting up dollybirds, but assessing their outfits for Terylene content (doesn't it make you want to rush out and buy something in Terylene?)




Notice the intriguing ghostliness of his face in the middle image. I'm sad that the last picture had been cropped of text, and have also seen an ad from this series featuring a member of The Hollies. (Do you know of others? I'd adore to see them!)