Christopher Gibbs - 1960's Peacock Style Icon

Christopher Gibbs in 1966 wearing a jacket from Hung On You.

Antique dealer Christopher Gibbs was one of the central figures of the Chelsea Set in 1960's London. Known for his immaculate style, he was a sartorial influence on many menswear designers such as Mr. Fish, Rupert Lycett-Green (Blades) or Michael Rainey (Hung On You) and other of his famous friends such as Mick Jagger or Brian Jones.Gibbs was described by fashion historian Nik Cohn as one of the most avant-garde dressers in Britain - reportedly, he was the first man in London to wear flared trousers as a fashion statement (as early as 1961). Interviewed by fashion writer Paul Gorman , he talks about his life in 1960's Swinging London: I know it's a cliche to say, 'If you remember the 60's, you weren't there', but I definitely suffer from the blown-mind syndrome. The only thing I'll say in my favour is that I was practically the only person I knew who actually went to work at nine o'clock in the morning, whether I'd been up to eight o'clock or not, because I had a job, my own business, and I realised that, if I didn't, I wouldn't have any of those things (Paul Gorman, The Look - Adventures in Pop and Rock Fashion, p 77).

Christopher Gibbs in 1966

Gibbs came from an upper-class family. He was educated in Eton (although he got expelled) and at the Sorbonne in Paris. From 1958 onwards he was making numerous trips to Morocco, during which he accumulated a large collection of garments and antiques. Around the same time, in the late fifties, he started his antiques shop on Sloane Avenue in Chelsea. Being a shopkeeper, I used to sell things sometimes. Then I used to parade around in them - he says, before modestly admitting: Yes, maybe I did have an effect on a few people (Gorman, p 77).

By mid - 1960's, Christopher Gibbs had become a style leader, a Swinging London's Beau Brummell. At the time his regular hangout of fellow dandies included interior designer David Mlinaric, owner of Dandie Fashions Tara Browne, owner of Hung On You Michael Rainey (and his brother-in-law Julian Ormsby-Gore), and upper-class socialites Neil Winterbotham, Mark Palmer and Nicholas Gormanston.

The Dandies of Swinging London: Julian Ormsby-Gore (left), Christopher Gibbs (centre) and Nicholas Gormanston (right), 1965

You had to be monumentally narcissistic and have time on your hands, and just about enough money to do it (Gorman, p 77) - said Gibbs about being a dandy in 1960's. In those days he would often call one of his stylish friends, and spend as much as forty minutes discussing which ties should they wear for a night out. Forty minutes spent on a tie - not even Brummell could call that sloppiness - wrote Nik Cohn in Today There Are No Gentlemen.

Gibbs was the original 'Peacock'. He was a big influence not only on King's Road designers, but also on Rupert Lycett-Green of Blades and Mr. Fish. His position as a style guru was assured when he became an editor of shopping guide in Men In Vogue - first ever male edition of this famous fashion magazine. Men In Vogue was published quarterly between 1965 and 1970, and it coincided with 'Peacock revolution' in English male fashion.

Actor Edward Fox (brother of James Fox) on a cover of first issue of Men In Vogue published in November 1965.

Christopher Gibbs in the same issue of Men In Vogue. The double breasted jacket is from Blades.

In his impressively furnished home in Cheyne Walk, Gibbs absorbed his Montesquieu, Beau Brummell and Beaudelaire and determined to adapt their aesthetic sensibilities to contemporary style (Gorman, p 77). his home became 'a place to be' for anybody who was anybody in Swinging London.

Party at the home of Christopher Gibbs with fashion designer Mr. Fish (far left) and interior designer David Mlinaric (far right), 1966.

In 1966, Gibbs's Cheyne Walk home was used by director Michelangelo Antonioni as a set for a marijuana-smoking party scene in Blow-Up, where completely stoned model Veruschka tells David Hemmings  probably the most memorable line of the film:" I AM in Paris!". Avant-garde film director Kenneth Anger also used Gibbs's home to shoot some of a scenes of his infamous masterpiece Lucifer Rising there in 1971.

Gibbs was also a close friend of Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Brian Jones and Anita Pallenberg. In 1967 he took them to Morocco. The trip was a tremendous influence on all of them, especially Jones, who recorded an album with Moroccan musicians Masters of Joujouka, and introduced african elements to his already very flamboyant look.

  Brian Jones in 1967

 Sartorial influence of Morocco on The Rolling Stones, 1967

Christopher Gibbs was an important part of a group that sparkled off a Peacock Revolution. The group consisted of  upper class socialites, fashion designers and flamboyant pop stars.In a rapidly changing world of 1960's London, these young men, through the peacock style, re-invented the idea of dandyism, echoing the words of writer and poet Charles Beaudelaire who wrote in 1836: Dandyism appears especially in the transitory period when democracy is not yet all-powerful, and when aristocracy is only partially unsettled and depreciated. In the confusion of such periods, some few men who are out of their sphere, disgusted and unoccupied, but are all rich in natural force, may conceive the project of founding a new aristocracy.

    

The Action - In The Lap Of The Mods

Some time ago, I picked up this flyer in Brighton Mod clothing shop called Jump The Gun. It announces that a book about 1960's Mod heroes The Action, titled In The Lap Of The Mods will be published in early 2012. The book  will contain plenty of unseen photos, interviews, limited edition 7'' and foreword by one-time producer of The Action - Sir George Martin. The flyer provides us with a link to a website, where we can find out more about the book. So, I thought it would be a good opportunity to do a post about this extremely sharp-looking band.

Apart from Small Faces, The Action were probably the best looking Mod band in London in 1960's. Their style was the most perfect example of what Mod style was originally about - a subtle, understated elegance, tailored suits, fitted button down shirts and sweaters with geometrical patterns (but without flashy Op and Pop Art craziness which was a trademark of The Who).

Musically, The Action failed to make an impression outside the Mod community, and unlike Small Faces or The Who , they never made it to the charts, despite the support of a big label or the fact that they shared a producer with The Beatles (George Martin produced the group briefly in 1966).

The Action in Jackie magazine, 1966

The group formed in 1963 in Kentish Town, North London, by the group of school friends Reg King (vocals), Roger Powell (drums), Mike Evans (bass) and Alan King (lead guitar). Initially they were called The Boys. Under this name they performed in Mod clubs, and on few occasions , they supported The High Numbers (Which is how The Who were called in summer 1964).

The Boys review,  1964 

In late 1964, The Boys were joined by rhythm guitarist Peter Watson, and changed their name to much more Mod-sounding  The Action.

Most of The Action's repertoire consisted of covers of obscure American soul songs. Perhaps the fact that they did not write many of their own songs was a reason behind their failure to make it in the charts. Their cover versions, however, were fresh and innovative, in some cases better than originals (for example, their version of "I'll Keep On Holding On" in my modest opinion, beats the original by The Marvelettes). They were also a great live band and their shows in London clubs such as The Marquee, were legendary for their incredible atmosphere. It allowed The Action to become the darlings of London Mod scene between 1965 and 1966. They were receiving a big amount of press attention.

Article about The Action sets at Marquee in Rave magazine, circa 1965.

Extremely sharp-looking Mike Evans, right, modeling suits, 1965. This, my dear readers, is how Mod should look like.  

Trivia on Roger Powell, 1965.

Trivia on Reg King, 1965.

A press ad for 1966 single "Baby You've Got It", produced by George Martin. This ad is probably better than the actual song.

Ad for another single, "Never Ever", 1966. Like everything else, it failed to set charts on fire...

With the demise of Mod movement at the end of 1966, the popularity of the group had faded. At the time, a lot of ex-mod bands - Small Faces, The Who, The Creation or The Pretty Things made a successful ventures into psychedelia. The Action also made an attempt at psychedelia, although a rather clumsy one. Their songs from that period, such as "Love Is All" (1967) show how uncomfortable they were trying to copy the sounds of West Coast.

The Action during their psychedelic period, 1967. They still looked great. Reg King's jacket looks like it might have been from Hung On You.

The Action split up in mid-1967. Some of the members went on to form hippie-prog band called Mighty Baby - but that is another story. The Action's story does not end there, though. During late 1970's Mod revival, a lot of bands, most notably The Jam, were quoting The Action as their biggest influence. Paul Weller wrote sleevenotes for their compilation LP "Ultimate Action". The interest in the band grew, and finally, in 1998,  The Action were hounded out of retirement by Rob Bailey - a promotor behind Mod clubnight New Untouchables. They played a comeback gig in Kentish Town Dome which attracted more famous faces. As Mojo magazine wrote in the review: Liam Gallagher (Ok,that makes sense) and Robbie Williams (What the hell was he doing there!?Perhaps he was looking for different sort of action?) stood in line for autographs, as did their number one fan...Phil Collins. "I went to see every gig (The Action played) at The Marquee", recalls the one-time Genesis sticksman. "It was the way Reg sang, the way Roger played, the harmonies by Peter , Alan and Mike on bass. Everything was so hip. I look at Roger and I realize how much of that went into my style. The most pathetic example was buying a jacket that was like Roger's. He wore this fantastically hip Mod nylon jacket, which I finally found and wore to death, before my mum put it in the washing machine and ruined it" (Mojo, issue 82, September 2000). Phil Collins joined The Action on drums during another reunion gig at 100 Club in 2000. He also financed the documentary film "In The Lap Of The Mods", which contains footage from both reunion gigs as well as some archive material.

The book at the same title which was a part of the project never materialized. Well, until now, that is (or should I say until early 2012). Phil Collins does not seem to be involved  this time. About being an inspiration for young Phil Collins, Roger Powell said: It's funny when you think The Action are pretty much responsible for Genesis (Actually Roger, It's not funny at all). The Action played one more reunion gig  - in 2004 at Modstock - a three day event organized by New Untouchables to commemorate 40 years of Mod Subculture. They shared a bill with other 60's mod/psych heroes - The Creation and The Pretty Things - who also reformed for that occasion.

It turned out to be  the last ever gig of The Action. Sadly , in 2010, both Reg King and Mike Evans passed away. 

In The Lap Of The Mods should make an interesting read, and I'll definitely try to purchase a copy (unless of course, the price will be too extortionate, like it often happens with limited edition books).

For more information about The Action visit www.action-mightybaby.com.

Read interviews with Pete Watson, Reg King and Mike Evans at Monkey Picks blog. 

Also check out Punks in Parkas - I have borrowed some images from this site. Back in the day (that is, before YouTube, tumblr, blogspot etc.) it used to be the most reliable source about Mod Subculture on the internet.

 And here's The Action performing "I'll Keep On Holding On" on TV show Ready! Steady! Go! in 1966

   

  

  

Tara Browne ("He blew his mind out in a car") - 1960's Peacock Style icon

Tara in 1966

Perhaps 'an icon' is not a right word here. But Tara Browne had become something of a cult figure - mostly among Beatles fans - since it was his death that inspired the lyrics of "A Day In The Life" (Little known fact: his death also inspired another song: "Death Of The Socialite" by The Pretty Things).

Born in 1945, The Hon. Tara Browne was a son of Dominick Browne, the 4th Baron of Oranmore and Browne and Oonagh Guinness  - an heiress to the Guinness fortune. After completing  his education in public school in Paris, he came to London, and, like other 'hip' aristocrats in Swinging London, he invested money in a tailoring venture - Foster and Tara. He provided financial backing for tailors Pops and Cliff Foster. Foster & Tara initially were making clothes on order for boutiques such as Granny Takes a Trip, before Tara decided to open his own boutique - Dandie Fashions, which would exclusively sell F&T designs.

Tara Browne and his wife Nicky photographed by Michael Cooper for Men In Vogue in November 1966

Tara Browne with Brian Jones on Tara's birthday, 04.03.1966

 On  December the 18th, 1966, Tara was driving his Lotus Elan through South Kensington with his mistress, model Suki Poitier - the was on their  way to meet decorators Binder, Vaughan & Edwards to discuss designs for the shopfront of Dandie Fashions. While passing the junction of Redcliffe Squre and Redcliffe Gardens, he "didn't notice that the light had changed", and crashed the car with a parked lorry. He died in hospital few hours after (Suki Poitier survived, and soon started dating Tara's friend - Brian Jones).He was 22. The following day, Tara's friend John Lennon picked up a copy of Daily Mail which contained the article about the accident. The rest is a well-known story...

Suki Poitier (centre) and Tara Browne (right), 1966

Apparently, Irish writer Paul Howard is currently writing a biography of Browne. He interviewed several close friends of Tara's. One of them, Hugo Williams shared some of his memories of Tara on The Spectator website: At 15, in 1960, Tara was barely literate, having walked out of dozens of schools. He smoked and drank but he hadn’t got on to joined-up handwriting yet. He was living at home with his mother Oonagh Guinness and her third husband, a louche Cuban ‘shoe-designer’ presently named Miguel Ferreras, who was gaily going through her fortune. Tara was two years younger than me but years ahead in sophistication and fun, dealing jokes, insults and ridiculous boasts from an inexhaustible deck like a child delightedly playing snap. In his green suits, mauve shirts with amethyst cuff-links, his waves of blonde hair, brocade ties and buckled shoes, smoking menthol cigarettes (always Salem) and drinking Bloody Marys, he was Little Lord Fauntleroy, Beau Brummell, Peter Pan, Terence Stamp in Billy Budd, David Hemmings in Blow-Up. His drawly Irish blarney was the perfect antidote to our public school reserve and what would come to be called ‘postwar austerity’.

All the white-gloved pre-debs doing time at Paris finishing schools found their way to Oonagh’s apartment, where they encountered their first taste of Sixties hedonism, without Daddy being around to say no to drinks and cigarettes and staying up past their bedtime. There was the chauffeur-driven Lincoln Continental to conduct us to the clubs and swimming-pools. There was fresh milk in the fridge picked up daily by the Irish butler from the American embassy canteen, the only place in Paris where you could find it in those days. If there was any embarrassment about money Tara would pretend to find a ‘dix milles’ note in the street.

Tara could hardly have failed to be a success in Swinging London. While I was wandering around the globe in ’63 and ‘64, he embarked on the second and last phase of his meteoric progress. He got married, met the Stones and the Beatles, opened a shop in the King’s Road and bought the fatal turquoise Lotus Elan in which he entered the Irish Grand Prix. He let me drive it once in some busy London street: ‘Come on, Hugo, put your foot down.’ I had just got my first job and our ways were dividing. His money and youth made him a natural prey to certain charismatic Chelsea types who turned him into what he amiably termed a ‘hustlee’. He reputedly gave Paul McCartney his first acid trip. The pair went to Liverpool together, got stoned and cruised the city on mopeds until Paul went over the handlebars and broke a tooth and they had to call on Paul’s Aunt Bett for assistance. There is still a body of people — and a book called The Walrus is Paul — who believe that Paul is dead and is now actually Tara Browne with plastic surgery.

Everyone has got some golden boy or girl in their life whose death or sudden departure distils the period into the long party it should have been but probably never was. When my first girlfriend was trying to think of something really nice to tell me she came up with ‘Your eyes are nearly as nice as Tara’s’. I remember being tremendously pleased about this and could hardly wait to tell him. I discussed titles for the book with Paul Howard and there seemed to be no choice: A Lucky Man Who Made the Grade" 

(http://www.spectator.co.uk/books/7156433/part_4/the-short-life-of-tara-browne.thtml).

        

What's Good For The Goose (1969)

I have been meaning to post something about this film for a long time. 'What's Good For The Goose' is a slightly forgotten British comedy from 1969. Just like 'Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush' or 'Smashing Time', it is another example of the film which tries to catch the spirit of the sixties, and satirize it at the same time.

The film features popular comedian Norman Wisdom, at the height of his career and  Sally Geeson (younger sister of Judy Geeson) at the beginning of hers.

Wisdom plays Mr. Bartlett - a London bank executive, who gets sent to represent his bank at the conference in Southport. The monotony of Mr. Bartlett's daily life is brilliantly depicted in a speeded-up footage during opening credits - we can see his daily travels from his house at the suburbs to the City, small talks with clients and colleagues, lunch eaten at the desk, being stuck in the traffic during the rush - hour, more routine small talks with his wife and two children during dinner, etc.    

 En route to Southport, he picks up two hitch-hiking hippie girls - Nikki (Sally Geeson) and Meg (Sarah Atkinson). Not that he has much choice - they pretty much invite themselves to his car, while he stops at the petrol station and they make themselves comfortable despite his initial protests. But after a while , he finds that they make rather charming travel companions. He is especially in awe of free-spirited Nikki. He drops the girls off in Southport and checks into the hotel, where the conference is held. During the conference, Mr. Bartlett has trouble concentrating as he can't get Nikki out of his mind. In the evening, when all of his fellow bankers hit either a bar or a local brothel, Mr. Bartlett wonders around town hoping to bump into Nikki. He finally finds her in a psychedelic club called The Screaming Apple. He buys drinks for all her friends (which makes him instantly popular) they dance, and after the club shuts, Nikki comes back with Mr. Bartlett to his hotel room. They start a brief fling.

Over the next few days, embraces the lifestyle of his new, young friends. He exchanges his three-piece suit and bowler hat into psychedelic/peacock "gear" from the new, "fab" boutiques - paisley shirts, kaftans and satin trousers in every possible colour. His new found love makes him more happy, energetic and self-confident than ever before. Unfortunately he will have to eventually realize that Free Love has also its dark side.

The film offers typical gags that can be found in comedies about generation gap and midlife crisis, but unfortunately, not much more. It is enjoyable, although the bizarre ending leaves the viewer wondering what was the point of the story. Readers of this blog , i.e. fans of sixties music/fashion should certainly like it. Lovely Sally Geeson is certainly a good reason to watch this film. Another would be the scenes set in the psychedelic club, where you can see The Pretty Things (performing in the film as Electric Banana) - a great mod-turned-psychedelic band playing songs from their 1969 album Philippe De Barge.

   

I wonder if Southport had swinging places like this in real life!

I'd recommend "What's Good For the Goose" to anybody who liked "Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush", "Smashing Time" or "There's a Girl In My Soup". It has been released on Dvd few years ago, so it should be widely available.

     

Lord John, Mates Boutique and post-1966 Carnaby Street

In the mid-1960's , after John Stephen's success, Carnaby Street became a gold mine for fashion retailers. For a few years in the late 1960's, the combination of Carnaby Street address and colourful clothes became almost a guarantee of instant, but short term success. Stephen's clothes were and remained well-made. His imitators realized this to be unnecessary - George Melly wrote - It didn't matter how quickly everything fell to bits. The clothes weren't meant to last, but to dazzle. Their shops, blaring pop music and vying with each other for a campest window and decor, spread the length of Carnaby Street and its environs (George Melly, Revolt Into Style, p 151). Among those competitors,only two men managed to come to a financial success comparable to John Stephen's. These men were Warren Gold, who ran Lord John, and Irvine Sellars who ran Mates boutique.

Shoppers at Lord John, 1966.

Lord John was started by brothers Warren and David Gold who opened two boutiques on Carnaby Street in 1964 after a successful period of selling suede jackets from their stall on Petticoat Lane. Aping John Stephen, Lord John specialized in Mod look. Warren Gold made sure that his designs were always up to date, and followed the trends, which, as far as male Mod look was concerned , were changing on almost weekly basis in the mid-1960's. This strategy proved an instant success, and soon Gold brothers were seen around London            

driving Rolls-Royces. Warren Gold liked his gangster-like image. Nik Cohn wrote about him: When I interviewed him, Gold wore a see-through bodyshirt over a golden-tanned spare tyre and was not communicative: 'Let's make this fast , young man - I've got a very busy day' (Nik Cohn, Today There Are No Gentlemen, p 115).    

Warren Gold, 1969

In 1967 Gold brothers commissioned decorators Binder, Edwards & Vaughan to paint the exterior of Lord John's branch on the corner of Carnaby Street and Ganton Street with a psychedelic mural, making it probably the most eye-catching building on the street. This, combined with the skillful advertising campaign in the press, only added to the success of Lord John. By 1970, Gold brothers owned eight boutiques, and expanded it to thirty during early seventies.

Psychedelic mural by Binder, Edwards & Vaughan

Newspaper ad for Lord John from around 1966.

Jackets from Lord John from early 1970's (found on E-bay).

Coat from Lord John from 1968 displayed in Victoria and Albert Museum.

Cat Stevens outside Lord John, 1966

The Yardbirds at Lord John, 1966

Mickey Dolenz from The Monkees being fitted by Warren Gold himself, 1967

Fashion spread in Fab 208 magazine featuring Lord John coat, 1967

Lord John shopfront circa 1969

Outside Lord John, 1969 (courtesy of John Hellier)

Irvine Sellars was a founder of Mates - one of the first chains of unisexual boutiques in London. 

Mates, 1967

Just like Warren Gold, he started his career in fashion from a stall in East End. Observing the beginnings of Carnaby Street, he had noticed that more and more often boys accompanied girls on the shopping trips (and vice versa). He decided to start a boutique that would sell clothes for both sexes. His designs , just like those of Warren Gold's, were initially aimed at Mod youth - and just like Warren Gold , he did not quite achieve John Stephen's originality. Nevertheless, he was making money, and by 1969 (at the age of 32), he owned a chain of 24 boutiques. Nik Cohn wrote about Sellars: He had his own factory in Neasden, and a house in Brighton, and a very large flat overlooking Marble Arch, impersonal and full of antiques which he paid a friend to choose for him. 'This is one of the biggest flats in London, and I can prove that', he said. 'It has ten rooms, three bathrooms and the furnishings are worth a fortune.'

Irvine Sellars, 1970.

He was not villainous. It would be pleasant to depict the Carnaby Street operators as bloodsuckers, ruthless exploiters, milking innocent kids of their very last dime; but Sellars wasn't like that. 'I'm in business', he said, 'and when you're in business, your personal tastes come second to your profits, or they should do. People try to get at me but I'm not a monster, I'm a human being, like everyone else (Cohn, p 115).

Mates on Carnaby Street , circa 1967

Warren Gold and Irvine Sellars were typical entrepreneurs that had overtaken Carnaby Street after 1966 - businessmen first, designers second. They do not have the same significance for fashion history as John Stephen (who, as elsewhere in this blog was said, is himself very underrated), but, just like him ,they became rich. And when the sixties ended ,their boutiques were on the 'way out' - just like John Stephen's. Both Gold and and Sellars ended up selling their businesses, once they stopped being profitable. Warren Gold remained in the clothing business - he came back to Petticoat Lane, where in the Big Red Building he opened Goldrange - a clothing factory outlet store, which he owns to this day.

Sellars (These days known as Sellar - he seems to have dropped 's' from his surname) went into property business, which made him one of the richest people in Britain. Today, he is one of the main investors behind The Shard - the new tallest skyscraper in London.