doodlings

that sugar coated iceberg tastes so sweet

Curious, isn’t it, how the sunshine can change your day? It’s the little things, like the fact that walking from shop to shop isn’t so daunting. I really hope the weather keeps itself up; cider in Somerset tastes much better when served with a dash of sunshine. Here’s hoping.

My thoughts at the moment are entirely preoccupied with Glastonbury. You know, which shorts to wear on which day and which drinks to drink in which order on which days. And that’s without the music. But now that it’s on my mind so constantly, I fear that the next 3 weeks will be the slowest yet. I’m just glad that the football will start soon and distract me, if only for a few minutes at a time. Speaking of which, how very exciting is the prospect of watching England on the Pyramid Stage….!

Here’s a picture I took in 2007. It pretty much sums up why I want to be there right now.

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literature, photography

the romantic tough school of writing

We stood then watching our friend Buddy, fated with life, nod and move on after Rosie, his pure heart beating to the tune of her sweet heels. The wings of mystic time beat down on us then, white with snowflakes, time that would whirl us all after our Rosies death and the frame-house funeral. Tragic and beautiful to see our Buddy move on out into the immemorial dance of fated snow-flakes, the dry rime rhyming on his collar. And the love that went out from us to him then was fantastic, true-volumned, sad-faced and innocent of the purposes of time, but true and in fact serious.

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literature, photography

tom is as bold as the knights of old

What’s that? Two posts in one day, you say? Yeah, well, this is too good to wait for.

It seems to me like this. It’s not a terrible thing – I mean, it may be terrible, but it’s not damaging, it’s not poisoning, to do without something one wants. It’s not bad to say: My work is not what I really want, I’m capable of something bigger. Or I’m a person who needs love, and I’m doing without it. What’s terrible is to pretend that the second-rate is first-rate. To pretend that you don’t need love when you do; or you like your work when you know quite well you’re capable of better.

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literature, photography

i don’t pretend to know what you want

I have never, in all my life, been so desperately and wildly and painfully happy as I was then. It was so strong I couldn’t believe it. I remember saying to myself, This is it, this is being happy, and at the same I was appalled because it had come out of so much ugliness and unhappiness. And all the time, down our cold faces, pressed together, the hot tears were running.

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fashion

got a tv set and a radio for seven shillings a week, shangri-la

Sunday. My favourite. Woke up slightly groggy, but a bacon buttie sorted me right out. Gonna head out soon to get the paper and other essential supplies, then come home and set up camp for the afternoon. Lahvely.

But first, as promised, I’m going to give you a sneaky look into another of my bookshelf gems. And in the spirit of continuity it’s going to be another Vogue one. This time it’s called ‘Vogue Fashion’ and is basically just a chronological look at all the designers who’ve been significant in Vogue since the 1900s. It’s a rather brilliant book, the passing of time it chronicles is endlessly fascinating (plus I can’t believe how 90s the the 90s look, if you know what I mean). It’s bit of a bible really. Enjoy!

Vogue Fashion

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fashion, photography

when the morning comes and the battle is won

I have decided it’s about bloody time I shared some of my bookshelf with you. Mostly because I’ve stopped being lazy and have actually set up the scanner on the desk (as opposed to sitting idly on the shelf under a pile of unopened letters – I dont like to move it for fear of unearthing the gathering dust) but also just because it’s packed with some of my favourite images and photographers and fashions. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get this hard-copy onto my blog, but here it is – the first instalment for your viewing pleasure.

I shall start with ‘Unseen Vogue’, a little treat that found its way into my Christmas stocking this year (thanks to my boy!). It’s an insight into Vogue’s unpublished archives; the photographs that didn’t quite make it for one reason or another, but, as you will see, could quite easily have made it and could feasibly make up the catalogue of iconic images we refer to all the time in our blogs. They are, after all, Vogue shoots and Vogue photographers, Vogue stylists and Vogue models, and in that respect deserve our attention. Some of the images are nostalgic and poignant, catching models when they weren’t doing what they were supposed to – you know, yawning or with their arm in a funny position or just speaking or not looking as picture-perfect as the pages of Vogue dictate.

Alexandra Shulman says in the foreword: Unseen Vogue is a pictorial history of the magazine, bound together by many of these untold tales. The images it includes are not simply images from Vogue shoots, but pictures that testify to the labyrinth of labour that must be negotiated from conception to publication. In every contact sheet there are 100 decisions; in every crop there is concerned debate……. The question that returns again and again is, what would I have done had I been faced with those pictures on my desk? In this collection there are some images that I fervently hope I would have had the foresight to publish – even though at the time they would have seem unsettlingly avant-garde. There are, too, variations of a published image that I’m not sure I would have published at all.

Like Shulman, I have to say I do wish some of these images had made it (and you will see why) but I’m glad that this book has enabled me to see them, despite their original fate.

Barbara Goalen by John Deakin, 1951
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Coat by Dior from the Paris collections, attributed to Henry Clarke, 1950
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‘The contemporary look’ by Anthony Denney, 1955
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Jean Shrimpton by David Bailey, 1962
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‘Shophound’ by Michael Cooper, 1965
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Jean Shrimpton by David Bailey, 1965
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Ursula Andress by Brian Duffy, 1966
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Twiggy (an unpublished cover shot) by Just Jaeckin, 1967
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I’m getting a bit scan-happy here, aren’t I. I’m going to stop now. I’m sure that’s enough of a taster, although I’d love to share the whole book with you for each page carries its own merit. I really love it because it teaches you to constantly look behind an image; I can’t read Vogue these days without wishing I could see the hundreds of beautiful mistakes.

I promise to share something else from my bookshelf with you very soon. Ta-ta for now.

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