Olivia Hussey, star of the Franco Zeffirelli production of Romeo and Juliet, was also a Yardley of London model in 1969. Her flawless English Rose beauty was a perfect fit for Yardley to advertise all the fab mod makeup products that they were producing at the time. It was an excellent opportunity to parlay her beautiful Juliet performance into the advertising world. Now that I think about it, she went from actress to model. Now it’s the other way around; that models want to be actresses.
This ad is for Next to Nothing Makeup, which was touted as an ‘invisible’ makeup by Yardley. So fine and sheer, all he ever sees is your own pretty face, looking flawless. I don’t know about you, but my teenage skin was far from flawless. More like covered in acne, which is why I never used an ‘invisible’ makeup. In fact Olivia Hussey, with her perfect skin, was probably the only person who could wear this makeup and look good. I doubt she spent any time using Phisohex and Clearasil like I did. The Next to Nothing makeup set is cool though – fantastic Biba-esque graphics and a fluffy powder puff – but a bit too unrealistic for a normal teenager like me.
Seventeen magazine was the fashion bible for my teenage years, and I’m glad I saved a big stack of them for my vintage research now. Perhaps I had the foresight as a teen that I would one day need them! The November 1972 issue of Seventeen featured the gorgeous model Joyce Walker as cover girl. What I appreciated about Seventeen is that, while they had their share of blonde, blue-eyed models, they also went for a more diverse look at times. Black models did show up on their covers and editorial pages with regularity. This seemed pretty normal to me at the time, and no one made any waves about it. 44 years later, what surprises me is that it seems to be a bigger deal in 2016 when a black model is on the cover of a fashion magazine. Probably the social media effect.
Joyce was also featured in the fashion editorial pages of the same issue. Wearing fantastic floral print wide-leg pants and a back-sashed smock by Jane Irwill, she is simply glorious!
Tall and slim, Joyce is modeling Jane Irwill floral pants, silver-sparkle halter top and a black-sparked cardigan. The stack-heeled patent leather shoes are by Capezio. Makeup by Mary Quant. Bracelet by Michael Moraux for Dubaux. I would totally wear this look today!
Here we go with one of the wackier 1972 fashions – yes folks, a full-on angora pant suit from Sears.
From their Junior Bazaar ‘Holiday Knits’ collection, you could choose a baby blue tunic and pants, or a raspberry pink knit smock top with cap sleeves and pants. Either way, you would be sporting head-to-toe angora. It would be soft and cozy in any event.
I would wear these items separately; the angora sweater with jeans, or the angora pants with a cotton or silk top. But not together. Pastel pant suits are just not my style. 🙂
I thought I had exhausted all the Yardley of London ads from my personal stash of fashion magazines from 1968 to 1975. But, no. While flipping once again through the November 1972 issue of Seventeen magazine, I found one that I’ve been overlooking. This one, for Next to Nature Make-up, is so subtly beautiful that it didn’t stand out like the other more splashy Yardley product lines of the time.
Always on-trend, Yardley seemed to be onto the ‘back to nature’ zeitgeist of the early 1970s. This makeup promised that it would make you look naturally beautiful, because it was made with natural colorings, the purest of waters, and Vitamin A to moisturize for a wholesome dewy glow. Who knew if any of this was true, given that there was not much emphasis put on ingredient labeling at the time.
The ‘Natural Beauty’ model is posing in field, wearing a plaid shirt and holding wildflowers; looking about as natural as one can get having set and blown-out hair and a face full of makeup. I love it though, as I do all the Yardley ads of my teenage years.
There was a time when cars were stylishly smart and colorful, not the boring sameness that they are today. This ad depicting the “New 1947 Studebaker” is a case in point. The body design is by Raymond Loewy, who was a famous industrial designer. Not only is the car a fabulous sunny yellow, but is advertised as “fashion on wheels” that mirrors your personality as effectively as a Bruno costume. The perfect cure for the postwar blues.
The ad ties in an English tweed suit by Bruno, matching tweed flats by Mackey, a calf haversack bag by Phelps, and a felt hat by Hattie Carnegie. All were supposed to go along well with your new Studebaker.
The car itself was in a gay, exciting color. Richly upholstered in soft, harmonizing fabric, with wide deep-cushioned seats. It was a dream of a car to handle – steers, stops and parks with delightful ease – and the comfort of its ride is really beyond description. I would love to own – or at least drive or ride in – this splendid car!
With the devastating loss of Prince Rogers Nelson yesterday, I am still in shock. But I’ve been recalling my earliest memory of Prince, when I first discovered him in the early 1980s.
I was shopping at a funky record store in Seattle’s University District when I first heard Prince’s Raspberry Beret. It must have been 1982, as this is when his first version of the song was recorded (it was reworked with The Revolution in 1985). I remember stopping dead in my tracks and listening attentively to the song. The sound, first of all, was unique. The lyrics really caught me though:
She wore a
The kind U find in a second hand store
And if it was warm she wouldn’t wear much more
I think I love her
Here was a guy singing about a girl wearing a beret found at a second hand store, and professing his love. Since I’m life-long vintie thrifter who has always shopped at second hand stores – even when it was decidedly uncool to shop there – I was riveted. Plus I love berets and the color raspberry. I remember thinking WHO is singing this song? It started me on my life-long love of Prince and his incredible talent. His music videos soon became a staple on MTV, and he exploded with fame. But I am grateful I got to hear him in his rawest sense first, at that shabby record store 34 years ago.
Sleep well sweet Prince ♥