Was the late Malcolm McLaren inspired by one of the greats of 20th century graphics in his creation of the astonishing signage for Sex, the fetishistic fashion boutique and incubator of punk rock he operated with Vivienne Westwood at 430 King’s Road in west London between October 1974 and November 1976?
Sad to note the passing of Suzan Strauss, whose intriguing, otherworldly presence illuminated the streets around Melrose and La Brea in Los Angeles in the 80s and 90s.
Choosing to walk the otherwise empty pavements in her ever-changing extraordinary outfits, she was known as The Lava Lady since her residence on Detroit was clad in black lava rock (and apparently the interior was not lit by electricity, but candles). In my circle Strauss was known as That Lady, as in “I was parking in Ralph’s and saw That Lady” or “I nearly spoke to That Lady at Fairfax High flea market but didn’t want to disturb her”.
Childhood, books, family, poets, music, influences + inspiration: Interview with Scarlett Sabet at Leighton House
One of the most pleasurable experiences of this summer was the August morning I spent amid the cool beauty of London’s “private palace of art” Leighton House Museum in the company of the extremely talented British poet Scarlett Sabet.
“Shirley has a voice that seems to be in touch with the traditions of the past, but also the dark mystery that makes England so weird, wild and mesmerising, and it is these two aspects that I wanted to convey in the video.”
Nick Abrahams, 2016
I’m captivated by the magical film made by Nick Abrahams to accompany the Shirley Collins song Death And The Lady.
This is the book which inspired the late Malcolm McLaren to unite the design ideas he developed with Vivienne Westwood for their Autumn/Winter 1983 fashion collection Witches.
At the time McLaren was completing his album Duck Rock, which was conceived as an ethnological travelogue and modelled on the Folkways LPs Dances Of the World’s Peoples; in fact, Duck Rock was originally titled Folk Dances Of The World and the incorporation of an illustrated insert containing track-by-track explanations was taken from the 1958 albums.
Hats off to barnstorming Barney Hoskyns for compiling new Joni Mitchell anthology Reckless Daughter, which is published in November.
I fell under Mitchell’s spell in my early teens at the behest of an older brother and was lucky enough to see her live in the gig-crowded year of 1974 at London’s New Victoria Theatre.
Even while punk raged I kept the faith; 1975’s The Hissing Of Summer Lawns and the following year’s Hejira are stone classics to which I constantly return, and not just for the peerless music. The designs by her own hand (Mitchell is an accomplished visual artist) and the fashion-sheen photography of Norman Seeff add to the allure.
Great news about the English heritage blue plaque dedicated yesterday at 73 Lancaster Road in north London’s Finsbury Park, one-time home of the late great footballer Laurie Cunningham.
As I’ve written here before, Cunningham’s significance extends outside of his considerable achievements as a sportsman; the first black player to represent England and be signed to an overseas club (Spain’s Real Madrid), he lived his tragically short life off the field at the cutting edge of street style and club culture.
To celebrate the opening next week of a new exhibition of work by photographer Sheila Rock, here is a selection of her early fashion styling.
‘They open their minds to better ways of doing things’: A People’s History Of Woodcraft Folk by Phin Harper
“The pastime of deriding the young never seems to grow old. Kids on the street: more must be done to tackle gang warfare. Kids inside; internet addiction is out of control. Kid sitting alone: depression epidemic. Kid running round: ADHD epidemic. Kid aces exam: standards are slipping. Kid flunks exam: no aspiration. The conditions the young endure are invariably a playground for adult moral grandstanding…
“For those who believe the voice of children is worth listening to, Woodcraft Folk has blazed a trail.”
Phineas Harper, Introduction, A People’s History Of Woodcraft Folk, 2016
My father, a career soldier of 26 years standing, was not strict, but on certain issues of upbringing he stood firm: a trophy-winning marksman himself, he would not allow us toy guns or quasi-army paraphernalia. In addition, joining the scouts was out of bounds. Like many who came of age in the 1910s and 20s he deplored the militarism the movement promoted among children. Doubtless the deaths of two of my uncles in the Great War lay at the roots of this.
He disparaged a Pacifist position, feeling it was his duty to serve, and so joined up as soon as he could, later playing his part at the pivotal battle of El Alamein in 1942. But after World War 2, militarism, even in the form of childish game-playing, was anathema.
Apologies for not posting for a while; I am currently focusing energies on my book Legacy: The story of The Face, which is published by Thames & Hudson in autumn 2017.
Launched in 1980 by print publishing pioneer Nick Logan – the editor of the NME during its ’70s glory years, the man who also founded Smash Hits, Arena, Arena Homme Plus, Frank and Deluxe – The Face magazine brought the news on the dizzying developments of popular culture for two decades.