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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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A/W 2020 Fashion Month: Before Vogue Went Blank (Part 2)

Hi to anyone reading,

I was going to start this post by jumping straight into Dion Lee and part 2 in general but there's been a lot going on the past couple of days-although this blog is primarily fashion, it wouldn’t feel right to start talking about designers without acknowledging all the shit that’s been going down.

^Photo Credit to @spiltcoco on Twitter

Yesterday, police footage came out of US police murdering yet another black man in broad daylight-George Floyd. He joins Sandra Bland, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Freddie Gray, and Alton Sterling, plus hundreds more named and god knows how many more unnamed African American citizens in the ever-growing list of victims of police brutality.

The majority of these are just people going about their daily lives, a majority of them doing absolutely nothing wrong; even those we know to have committed crimes have been unarmed and non-violent offenders. That being said, their offences are beside the point when we’ve seen the white perpetrators of mass shootings be calmly cuffed and escorted into the backs of police cars as if they were the ones selling cigarettes without permits. American police, given the amount of them that are armed, regularly become judge, jury and executioner trained for 8 weeks by an institution that originated from slave patrols. I cannot imagine how terrifying it is just to walk around as a PoC in America. I cannot imagine the collective trauma that has been suffered because of recent events on top of the intergenerational trauma that most likely exists because of centuries of oppression. I cannot imagine what it’s like to live in a country that was built to suppress you and was by law allowed to do so until very recently, those original structures still in place. I cannot imagine what it’s like to be made to feel like this is your fault. I mean, Boris Johnson is a useless, cold-hearted twat and I won’t defend him or this country for a minute (we have much blood on our own hands, and racial profiling is just as much a thing here as it is in America-I read earlier that you’re 28 times more likely to be stopped and searched in London as a non-white person compared to a white person), but I still can’t imagine him publicly advocating for the mass murder of groups he knows to be primarily made up of black people via Twitter. This whole situation is so unimaginably fucked up; anyone who still sees America as one of the world’s most developed nations needs to take a long, hard look at what is going on and reconsider that opinion.

Whilst we can’t fix everything, we can all speak up and make our voices heard, and it is our duty to do so. It’s not good enough to just “not be racist”, you have to be ANTI-racism, even if that means constantly reflecting on your own privilege and challenging your assumptions. Neutrality is complicity. Signing a petition isn’t going to change the world, but it’s a start:

https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd?recruiter=false&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf_combo_share_abi&recruited_by_id=7ba70000-a127-11ea-87fb-d1ff0bf6ea96

As I publish this, there’s less than 50,000 signatures needed to hit the target of 6,000,000 so if you happen to see it, get signing! There are lots of other petitions online but Change.org seems to be the only major one you can sign in the UK as the other are US based and require a zip code. I never thought I’d close a paragraph by quoting Macklemore but the line “no freedom 'til we're equal, damn right I support it” is at the forefront of my mind right now. Again, neutrality is complicity. We’re never going to achieve a fair society by sitting on our asses and hoping things will improve. Let’s all do the best we can.

Sorry if that intro wasn’t what you came here for, but I just think it’s so important to talk about. I know I’ve said in the past that fashion is supposed to be an escape from everyday life but there are some times when real life needs our attention and this is one of them. Feel free to unfollow if you disagree.

Anyway, onto the fashion. If this is the first post you’re reading, welcome! There’s a part 1! But I don’t wanna be pushy so start here if you wish!

If you read part 1, welcome back!

I ended that post by practically falling at the feet of Dilara Findikoglu, and I so wanted to start this post by regaining a sense of dignity and go straight into what-the-fuck-ing at Dior, but I know breaking chronological order would really piss off those “OmG I’m SoOo OCD, tHis BuzZfeEd aRtiCle WiTh DiFfereNt SiZed TiLes ToLd Me!” which is basically me minus claiming liking things to be organised means I have OCD-no, just dermatillomania and the denial that a compulsive skin picking disorder has anything to do with OCD because the neuroses club that is my brain doesn’t have any space left. SO, I have to continue where I left off and star the post with Dion Lee, whose collections I am a big fan of.

I could ramble a bit more but I did enough of that at the beginning of part 1 and am sure I’ll do more than enough in this post anyway, so here it is, Dion Lee:

Considering we ended with the maximalism of Dilara Findikoglu, sliding back over towards the other far end of the scale with a designer that tends to pitch their tent on the borders of the minimalism camp feels correct. Dion Lee, fortunately, seems the perfect collection to open with. There aren’t many other brands who do edge in such an understated and masterful way. If you want to be ready for combat and look like you’d fit right in at Vogue at the same time, look no further. This season’s collection is full of perfectly placed cut outs and immaculate tailoring and subtle street fighter-esque details as ever, and that’s why it pains me to say it:

Not that this is enough in the way of critique to restore my dignity by any means, it’s not a patch on last season.

I don’t think there was a single bad look in that show, and at times it felt like I was weeding through them here. When the looks were good, they were GOOD but a lot I found to be disappointing. Plus I have no idea why you’d put tie-dye in an A/W collection. I appreciate that it’s an Australian brand and that our winter is their summer, but they’re presenting to the rest of the world at fashion week and anyone in Paris, Milan, London and New York is going to be freezing their tits off and looking like a twat in an orange tie-dye sundress. There wasn’t much of a dip in quality for the menswear compared to last season, but honestly womenswear left a lot to be desired. That’s what happens when your expectations are high.

I used to think that if you assume the worst, it’s impossible to feel let down. And then I saw Dior’s A/W 2020 collection. Did a full 180 on that statement.

I suppose it’s a step up from haute couture, but then at least the styling in that was simple, and it just didn’t look like anybody had tried at all; here it’s clear Maria Grazia chucked everything she could at this collection, every headscarf, every gingham print, every shallow feminist undertone, and it was still a fucking mess. At first you think some of the individual pieces are cute but have just been ruined by the styling, and then you begin to look, and realise that even those individual pieces could’ve easily been bought in a New Look Boxing Day sale.

THIS IS CHRISTIAN DIOR, SUPPOSEDLY ONE OF THE MOST LUXURIOUS BRANDS OUT THERE. WHAT IS GOING ON!?

I don’t know, I included as many looks that I didn't mind as I could, but it’s like there always has to be a crappy, unnecessary detail in there. Everything is so literal. Of course the collection based around the divine feminine has the models dressed like basic ass Greek goddesses, so of course the collection based around the modern woman and equality has women walking the runway in ties and ill-fitting shoes too. Maria Grazia, here is a box:

Think outside of it.

Next is, thankfully, Elie Saab:

No, not exactly a trailblazer of a collection, but executed with poise and elegance as always. I mean, the styling is spot on. It looks like each part of the outfit was made for another, to contribute to a whole clearly envisioned look, similar to what we saw in the Alberta Ferretti show. Elie Saab is known for its haute couture shows where all the tiny details, the sequins and the silk and the embroidery come together to make something beautiful, and this is just that on a larger scale, with less “wow”s and more quiet admiration, more wishing you were the one wearing that outfit. If you’re gonna play safe, do it this well. The night dresses are stunning of course, but not even my favourite bit of the show. It’s the casual looks, the pussy bows and the ruffles and the neck scarfs and the private girls school monochrome colour palette with the occasional pop of red or purple, a toned down version of what we saw at haute couture, any of which deserve to be worn whilst eating macarons in front of the Eiffel Tower before trip to Musee D’Orsay. It’s Poppy Moore’s school uniform grown up and made fit for a fashion magazine editor:

Somehow managing to cram an Emma Roberts early 2010s fashion moment into every post is my talent, who knew. Wild Child was really a gem.

Erdem was a mixed bag:

With a lot of the outfits, I can’t tell if I actually like the garments that much or if I just like the look as a whole. I mean, without sounding too gluten-free Callie from the Valley, I like the VIBE, but there was a lot of outfits I almost included before I had to ask myself “LAUREN, do you ACTUALLY like this or do you just like the walking-into-your-sugar-daddy’s-will-reading-to-claim-his-fortune DRAMA of it all!?”

It happened a couple of times, where once I took off my black and white, theatrical violin accompanied entrance filtered sunglasses, I realised that the actual print was ugly. A collection so cohesively ornamental and kitschy is going to lean too far into that at times, and they were a few overly-fussy moments where it seemed less nudge nudge wink wink and more like Erdem Moralıoğlu fell into his grandma’s wardrobe, stole some fabric, and called it a day. I don’t want to sound like I’m not a fan of the collection because overall it’s gorgeous, I just thought it was a bit much at times.

Continuing with the theme of clever seasonal continuity that weaved its way throughout this year’s A/W offerings, Ermanno Scervino kept the core of his summer collection and made it just that little bit darker, added some weight to everything, and this is one of the rare occasions where I like the winter incarnation a lot more. I’m not huge about either but there’s a lot of things I’d love to wear here, the coats especially.

Up next is a reliable favourite of mine:

Etro.

Was it REALLY necessary for you to include ALL those coats I hear you ask?

Alaska Thunderfuck as Gia Gunn voice: Absolutelyyyy.

When it comes to bohemian fashion, Etro is unbeaten. Everything is always exquisitely coordinated and styled. Like I usually fucking hate aztec print but I love the way it’s done here. I’ve never known a brand to make belts seem like such an integral, tasteful part of the outfit in a field where they so often seem like a last minute addition for the sake of accessorising; it pains me to say it, but Elie Saab, I’m looking at you. It’s your only fault.

Yes for bringing back embroidered jeans! Yes for all those high necks! Yes for the tapestry print! Yes for the Afghan waistcoats! Etro will keep fedoras cool forever and I love them for that; I don’t know if she ever actually wore any of their stuff but I just know Stevie Nicks was in her prime would’ve ate this shit UP and she is my style icon for the ages. Plus, I might be way off base here but a lot of the collection seems to be inspired by traditional Romani style and it’s a beautiful direction to take things, a treasure trove of layers upon layers and rich textures and opulent prints.

I can’t wait til the phase of my phase of my life where I can swan around in maxi dresses and ponchos. I just hope those maxi dresses and ponchos are Etro.

Onto another brand which hasn’t had a bad show since I started my reviews: Fendi. This season, they took their late 60s/early 70s wild child aesthetic and gave a millionaire’s high maintenance wife spin on it, and what’s not to like about that?

I mean, Fendi is a brand which is always going to excel in its F/W presentations-the rich, bohemian prints (pro-tip: if you can’t already tell, me mentioning the word bohemian in a review pretty much guarantees I like the collection), the furs, and the warm colour palette all perfectly translate into clothes suited for walks through a city going through a post-summer burnout, where it rains red and orange leaves. You can tell Silvia Fendi is in her element when she’s got texture to play with, something that comes across in the gorgeous coats Fendi consistently puts out, and this season continues that trend. Plus, there’s a lot of adorable details here-shoes that show off the decorative socks underneath, the cube shaped bags and those furry ear muffs which I hope bring about a high street muff renaissance because they’re the equivalent of slipper socks for my ears and THEY’RE ACTUALLY REALLY PRACTICAL. The only thing I’m not in love with is the mirrored glasses, and I can’t help but think how replacing them with a pair of grandad style aviators would be the icing on the cake for the collection. Maybe I just need to see Miss Robyn Rihanna Fenty wearing them and then I’ll get on board. Usually works.

Ah, GCDS. I got so excited for it after last season but this time round, it was a bit of a disappointment. There were a few outfits that semi-matched up to how cutting-edge I saw their last collection, however a lot of the pieces looked pretty low quality. I get that streetwear is in the name, but it’s supposed to be a high fashion take on that, and a lot of the looks were quite pedestrian. Stand outs are the top 2 rows and the leather motocross style jumpsuit on the far right, third row down, but the quality of these pieces wasn’t consistent across the board and I feel like I ended up having to convince myself I liked some of the others just so I had enough photos to justify including the brand. It really sucks when I look back on how ahead of the game last season’s collection was-we’re talking outfits that wouldn’t be out of place on Instagram’s Tokyofashion page and as far as I’m concerned that’s the fashion holy grail. Some of these looks, especially the menswear, could be from a Boohoo TV ad and that makes me sad.

Meanwhile, Giambattista Valli put out a collection that looked like a virtual postcard of Parisian fashion; if a St-Germain-des-Prés streetwear themed Instagram doesn’t exist already, someone should capitalise on that, stat, because if my typical vision of French feminine fashion is correct it would be full of outfits like this. I feel like this is what a fashion novice EXPECTS Chanel to look like. Trust me-these days the reality is much more disappointing.

There’s many things I'm happy to see here besides the tulle and florals and prettiness I expect of the brand. Obviously the berets and the bows and the elbow length gloves are the kind of off-duty ballerina style touches I’ve become accustomed to but there are also some nice surprises here: the military style white jacket, the unexpected snake motif on clothing that’s otherwise overly delicate, and to my delight the return of the boater hat. IDGAF, this is the summer where I’m buying myself one off Ebay and making this happen for me whether they become a “thing” or not. I shouldn’t squander having this little of a double chin; the opportunity may never present itself again.

I haven’t watched Killing Eve in a longggg time since there’s only so much of two women attempting to kill each other and then miraculously avoiding death you can watch but I’d love to see Vilanelle prancing round a city in this kinda shit slitting some necks again. I hope that doesn’t make me sound like too much of a sadist; only in a purely fictional world is this something I want to see, I assure you.

Givenchy was really, really great this season too, imo. Definitely a step up from the last RTW anyway. Aside from the drama of the exaggerated floppy brim hats and the quirky tassle detail dresses a la Schiaparelli, a lot of these outfits kinda remind me of something a Miranda Priestly/Cruella De Vil type would wear, and you know me; I’m all for that kind of intimidating, about-to-either-slap-you-or-fire-your-ass bad bitch energy. The gathered leather gloves with the androgynous subtly checkered power suits feels CORRECT and if Giambattista Valli is the bottom in this relationship, Givenchy is the top. Am I allowed to reinforce sapphic relationship stereotypes as a bi girl? Probably not. I’m sorry. Won’t do it again. Just this once. And you know I’m right really xoxo

And OMFG Gucci. Another impeccable collection for me, honestly. Once again, it’s probably my favourite of the season. How it is that Alessandro Michelle gets it SO right for me despite his vision being so bold and different every time? He has this specific brand of strange, conceptual beauty which blends past and present trends in a way so supreme it should be considered art. It’s not a term to throw around loosely but the man is a genius, and tbh I’m still not over the human head props from the 2018 F/W winter show.

In my Haute Couture week review, I talked about the Viktor and Rolf collection (which I loved, don’t get me wrong!) and said that pretty meets grunge is my fave thing ever-this is that, but much even more substantial and intelligent. The Wes Anderson-esque pieces or that late 60s/early 70s hipster aesthetic that I loved in last season’s show hasn’t been done away with either-be it the level of detail or the colour scheme, it all somehow fits together. Never did I think I’d see dresses fit for porcelain dolls through the lens of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen seamlessly slotted in between outfits that could’ve been put together from the clothing rack of Dazed and Confused’s costume department. I want it all-opulent fur-trimmed coats, crucifix jewellery and pilgrim hats I’m sure both Edgar Allan Poe and modern goths would approve of, and the tiered skirts that wouldn’t be out of place in a Westworld saloon. The models were delightfully sad and almost creepy looking and I wouldn’t change that for the world. To say 10/10 doesn’t do it justice, so I’m gonna have to open a reviewer’s can of worms and say 100/100.

Gucci is a tough act to follow, and I’m sorry it has to fall onto the shoulders of Halpern. In the nicest possible way (as if there is any nice way of saying it), I don’t think I any expected anything but a downgrade, so if anything, my standards will be lower so...Michael Halpern, you can thank me I guess?

That was really mean, I’m sorry. It’s not a bad collection, and I definitely like it more than last season’s. It’s a slightly garish colour palette at times but an exciting one in spite of that, which when paired with the animal print dotted throughout makes this collection the perfect fit for a tropical beach party or at the very least, a semi-decent night at the Caribbean themed bar in your local town centre. The sequins and silk, a Halpern trademark, are as tastefully done as ever, and seeing them on the models, I can’t deny these are some power fits-the kind of clothes you are bound to look and feel confident in; if you wanted to play queen of the urban jungle for a night, this is what you need to be wearing.

Ah, Hermes.

Generally not one to stoke a fire inside me. In all fairness, the tailoring here is really, really nice and French biker chic, and the pieces are perfectly crafted-it’s not that I don’t like the outfits because I think that if I saw one of them individually in a natural, messier setting I’d probably be impressed. These are classy, elegant winter looks and what more could you want when you’re looking for outfit inspiration for this season? It’s just that it’s always a little too neat and uniform for me, and on the runway I like my fashion to be risky. This could almost be the sophisticated mother to a Tommy Hilfiger collection and whilst that’s something I would probably wear if I wanted to look put together, it’s not what you get excited to see at fashion week. Primary colours all together aren’t where it’s at for me either, the infamous colour scheme of the cheap plastic playhouses you’d find in the garden of every working/middle class British household back in the day. Yes, I had one. So did the after school club I was forced to attend whilst my mum was at work. Apparently the negative connotations are still too much for me (a boy I went to the after school club with did once fall off the back of one and crack his head open so maybe it’s justified).

Isabel Marant was pretty much exactly what you’d expect from Isabel Marant; if the Etro bohemian woman is one who rolls out of bed and chucks on the first thing she sees, the Isabel Marant bohemian woman is the one who claims she’s done the same thing but who actually planned it all out the night before. She designs for the gluten-free, bikram yoga Kourtney Kardashian style “hippy” who claims to be a free-spirit but would definitely not do acid with you. I was gonna say it was a collection for the Gwyneth Paltrows of the world but then I remembered Gwyneth proudly released a candle she claimed smelled like her vagina and changed my mind-she’d definitely do acid with you.

It’s definitely a cohesive transition from the summer collection; both have that seemingly laid-back, clean-cut vibe, and cater to the rich, impeccably groomed scented candle loving woman everywhere. Obviously the pieces are a tad more suited to an alpine lodge in Switzerland than a beach in Malibu this time round, but that same mild colour palette, pretty, naturalistic patterns, and generally relaxed fit persists. It’s cute enough.

J.W Anderson is a bit of an enigma.

Despite the experimental silhouettes and the kooky details that you think would very “look at me!”, the collections still seem to have a chilled, easy-going feel to them. They toy about with the strange but remain entirely sophisticated whilst doing so-I think it’s because aside from the little quirks that make the garments J.W Anderson, they’re otherwise fairly reserved and simple; even the quirks themselves mostly tend to be exaggerated, more conceptual takes on more typical stylistic motifs anyway. Anderson has a knack for producing statement pieces that don’t look like they’re trying too hard to be statement pieces, a talent he expertly deploys at Loewe as well. Whilst Maison Margiela collections are like the fashion equivalent of that Jughead “I’m weird, I’m a weirdo” speech, J.W Anderson’s refusal to conform is quiet and modest. I like it. It’s not generally my personal style but I can admire the thought behind the work, and there are still some things I’d love to try. I have a few standouts-the shoes with the hoop detailing dancing from the ankle straps, the dress on the bottom right with what appears to be art nouveau typography on, the trench coat with the cape detailing and the gossamer dress to its right are all stunning, especially that dress. If I ever want to dress as the bubble Glinda the Good Witch descends in when she meets Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, I know where to go, though I don’t suppose there’s going to be an occasion that calls for that any time soon. Can I just have the dress anyway?

Kim Shui is another new designer I found through blessed Twitter screencaps-thanks guys for doing my research for me. Much appreciated.

But anyways! Like Charlotte Knowles, it’s clear she’s still establishing her aesthetic as a designer, and thus far I love it. The whimsical, throwback prints on urban silhouettes that range from the androgynous suits of city dwelling cool girls to the amped-up sex appeal of nightclub dresses is gorgeous, especially twinned with dainty headscarfs and opera gloves-all in all I think this a very cool and wearable collection and I’m looking forward to the next collection she puts out.

Next up is Lacoste, and IDK why I always include their collections to be honest, considering they’re not really known for “high fashion”. I guess it’s because my dad has collected Lacoste shirts since I was little so I kinda have a soft spot for it and feel obligated to include it every time presentation season comes around. Yes, the outfits are unbearably preppy and the colours are garish but I feel like that’s kind of the appeal? So what if some of the tracksuits look like they could’ve been pulled out of a bad mafia movie? I see the argyle jumpers, with a bit of wear and tear, as a charity shop gem my sister would come across (she has the #Y2K Depop girl knack for finding old designer pieces in the shittiest charity shops without the audacity to try and sell them at a 70% markup) that I would then steal from her wardrobe to wear myself, contrasted with a ripped mini skirt, chains and and docs. I see the POTENTIAL of a look that is very fuck you to the rich middle age tory styling we see here. It’s punk, okay?

Lanvin was STUNNING this time around. Maybe it’s because I’ve been watching Mad Men recently and it reminds me of the fashion on that-which I hope somebody won an award for at the time BTW, it is SO fucking good-but I just adore every look here. I can’t even remember if I reviewed Lanvin’s SS20 show, and so clearly if I did it wasn’t that memorable (no shade intended), however this collection is a different story. Every single one of these outfits is iconic movie moment worthy, a 60s Cher Horowitz plaid two piece equivalent that would get screencapped and replicated ad-nauseam, all the best looks of Betty Draper and Peggy Olsen and Joan Holloway and Megan Calvet brought together and refined for the modern day woman. I might even consider sacrificing my anti-royalist principles if it meant I could transport myself back in time and switch bodies with Grace Kelly so I could make this collection my princess-off-duty wardrobe and drive around Monaco in that Bella Hadid look, roof down, all the drama of the fur trim and the gloves and hair whipping about in the wind (but in this unrealistic vision I can actually see what I’m doing and I’m not choking on random strands and swearing at Mother Nature as if she is a real entity with a personal vendetta against me).

Loewe! More J.W Anderson! I’m gonna try not to repeat myself by arsekissing too much all over again and get the good points out of the way quickly! So rapid fire: elegant! Delicious colour palette! Interesting shapes! I think I’m seeing a Victorian/Edwardian influence there! Correct me if I’m wrong! I like it! The coats are strong! Remind me of the suffragettes! But lets pretend in this case these Loewe style coat wearing suffragettes are not raging classists!

AH. Apart from that, it was a bit too austere for me. I definitely preferred Anderson’s eponymous collection; there were a fair few recurring details in this show that I couldn’t get behind that I didn’t include, in particular this bib-like black panel that just kept popping up on everything. Sorry J.W Anderson. But a 50% success rate is still good! And at the end of the day, having 2 collections on Vogue Runway at once is more prestigious than the accumulative total of every accomplishment I’ll probably ever have achieved in my life by the time I’m on my deathbed so what do I know anyway? Sigh:( At least I’ll always have the honour of having the largest head by circumference of my class in year 4, right *sweats nervously*!?!?!

Louis Vuitton was definitely a downgrade on last season for me. There were for sure elements I liked-the Vera Wang-esuqe mixing of the tulle bustle skirts with the rougher, more masculine biker inspired vests and jackets was a cool choice, reminiscent of Gucci’s mixing of the lace dresses with harnesses. I enjoyed the baroque jackets and subtle nods to steampunk style too. Though we’ve already seen it a lot this season, the wet look coat with fur trim I can’t help falling in love with, and I’m immune to the potential ugliness of the muted blue monotone look purely on the basis I can picture Ripley from Alien in it. So like I said-it’s not as if I hated it. I guess when it comes down to it, the collection wasn’t bad so much as I just had higher hopes. I will say though, the staging was INCREDIBLE. As a history nerd, I never thought I’d see the day when a Henry the 8th lookalike actor was part of the backdrop of a Paris fashion week show-and I always thought there was no interesting career path for me in the subject!

And another big name I don’t tend to be so partial to, Maison Margiela. IDK, I did like last season but I wasn’t a fan of haute couture and it took me a while to warm to this. Call it deconstructed, experimental, whatever, but you know when you can’t decide what to wear and you’re in a rush so you kinda just throw all the shit you decided against into a pile? Well, my initial thought was that this season Margiela is kinda that, on the runway.

I will say, once I let go of my need to see a clear shape, a lot of the individual pieces were stunning (NOT the puffed up tabis though, I still can’t even get behind the regular ones). I guess I just wish they’d go for less is more with the styling because as it currently stands, it makes it hard to actually take the clothes in.

Ultimately, one thing you can always say about Margiela, like their clothes or not, is that it has a monopoly on being effortlessly bold.

Marc Jacobs I really liked again, though I will say it doesn’t stand out quite like the S/S collection did. That was absolutely STUNNING-I can’t remember specifically where I ranked it in my top ten but I know it was at least in the top 5. This, on the other hand, is...pretty. It’s very pretty, and very put together, so I’m not saying at all that I don’t rate it. I suppose it’s just a lot simpler than I expected it to be-I don’t have a problem with simplicity, at all, especially if it’s what a brand is known for but I feel like part of the appeal with Marc Jacobs is that it’s pretty kooky. I mean, not Thom Browne or Margiela kooky, but commercial kooky at least. I feel like the kookiness is lacking here? And that’s where this feeling is coming from? And also, the fact that Lanvin tackled the same era and did it a lot better? So there’s that, too. Plus, I adore Miley Cyrus but...why? Random celebrities waking the runway just doesn’t do it for me-it always comes across as a publicity grab, as if the designer isn’t confident enough in their collection’s ability to get people talking on its own, and I suppose in this case that says it all really.

Margaret Howell was...well, Margaret Howell. She’s known for her basics, and they’re always pretty non-offensive “regulation hottie” in the words of the icon that is Damian from Mean Girls. It’s been, what, four years? More? Since I last watched that film but I’m pretty sure watching it about twenty times between the ages of 9 and 15 tattooed it on my brain. I include her because even though they don’t get my pulse racing, I like these pieces; considering the fact that expecting straight white men to ever have style on the level of barbiedrugz (his instagram is my favourite thing ever) or Rickey Thompson is ludicrous, Margaret Howell’s menswear looks are probably are the best, realistic goal for any future partner. Because I like my men dressed like Paddington bear/a depressed Brown University English lit lecturer, okay? Or in other words, Will Graham from Hannibal.

Marine Serre had a few good moments-the looks that I liked were the ones that stayed within her lane of blending the weird with the visually appealing. There were a lot of cool things going on, and I like the utility vibe (the boot with the pouch detailing and the mask are perfect examples of this done well), but outside the fits I picked out a lot of it went over my head tbh.

Marques Almeida is a show I was looking forward to-it has such a youthful, experimental quality to its collections (it’s no surprise the designers said they were influenced by the HBO show Euphoria this year!), similar to Central Saint Martins, and you can tell the designers (Marta Marques and Paulo Almeida) are based in London too; we are talking about the birthplace of the punk fashion movement, and as a designer it’s probably almost a rite of passage that you incorporate elements of that into your work. Marques Almeida does that with a flair and consistency you can count on. Their clothes don’t have the wildest silhouettes or anything like that but the fun they have playing around with print and colour and the ease and confidence with which they settle on those combinations always comes through-the black and white coat with the yellow furs trim is one of my favourite pieces from the entirety of this season’s offerings.

I wasn’t so fond of Max Mara’s SS20 collection and I'm not gonna lie, this isn’t THAT much of a step up for me personally. It’s just one of those brands I feel obligated to include because it’s talked about quite a bit but I’m not totally sure if it’s for me. Too monotone, but I’ll give it another season! And I mean, there is a slight improvement here-this collection is a lot more laid back than the stiff, austere feel of the last, and there are some very well fitted and structured pieces. A lot of the looks kinda remind me of a 2020, fashion take on The Breakfast Club’s “Basket Case”, which is kinda cool, and just from looking at the clothes, the high price tag is palpable. Also, scruffy hair club unite! Though obviously it’s intentional here! That’ll be my excuse for the next time I turn up at work looking like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards-Max Mara made me do it.

Ending on those words of wisdom, I’m gonna bring this post to a close, because I can’t fit any more photos in! I’m desperately hoping that I can fit this all into 3 parts like I did with my last RTW review but even if I do have to make 4 posts, I still include my top 10 shows as I did before. I hope to get that post up within the next couple of weeks! After that, I’ve shot a Lana Del Rey inspired by each of her different albums and “era”s though given last week’s events I’m on the fence about whether to post it or not, especially given her silence over the last couple of days. I’m really proud of what I’ve put together and I’ll always love her art and music (I have 2 bloody tattoos, for fuck’s sake!), so I’m trying to think how I can reconcile that with those awfully worded posts and just the general lack of awareness of bigger issues that she’s displayed the last week. JFC, being a Lana stan has always been so chilled up until now. All the very valid and important takes aside, that “Lana pls delete that post and apologise, we can’t fight the barbz all your stans are depressed” tweet is the only good thing to come out of this shitshow. He got a point. Breathing feels like effort lately:( IDK, if you’re also a Lana stan and you have any opinions on the matter, feel free to DM me, because I’m feeling pretty conflicted rn.

Most importantly though, are the issues I opened this post by talking about, and I thought I’d finish by including the thread of petitions I saw on Twitter. Like I said, a lot of them aren’t available to sign in the UK but to anyone who read up until this point (thank you!) idk where you’re reading from so maybe some of them will apply to you:

https://twitter.com/yericvIt/status/1265801832930045953

Also, while we’re at it, because every tory voting twat seems to treat our country as if it’s some beacon of hope where racism is non-existent and love to tell PoC to stop moaning about their experiences, here’s a thread of black British men and women who have lost their lives to police violence:

https://twitter.com/illh0eminati/status/1266441604170223617

Thank you for reading until the end. I hope that you enjoyed the fashion part of the post but also that if you did read this far, you read the other bits too if you didn’t know what was going on already. It seems like everyone does but you forget that Twitter’s a bit of an echo chamber and that outside of it, there’s a lot of ignorance, whether intentional or not. I know Tumblr has a similar audience to Twitter so I imagine there’s loads on here about everything going on too, but ya know. I wanted to talk about it just incase.

Stay safe, keep fighting the good fight, and again, thank you for reading!<3

Lauren x

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bcnovels · 4 years

Text

Murder is Only a Word Away

Down

36. A certainty in life (5)

London, Wednesday, October 10. 12:15 PM

The sprawling Sunday Times editorial office was, as usual, bustling with activity and a slight distraction to his train of thought. Smooth (8), silky (5), century (7) width 16 cm, depth 10 cm, height 8 cm, mystified (9), perplexed (9), flummoxed (9), solvable (8). Around him, journalists, researchers, and editors rushed to make their deadline in the 30m wide 60m deep, dry, poorly regulated air-conditioned room. At least it was not filled with smoke as it was thirty years ago when he first began. However, the blue nicotine hue that once hung over the cigarette smoking staff was now replaced by wafts of men’s aftershave competing against female perfume, which, at times, seemed like all-out chemical warfare. Maybe smoke was a healthier option, he thought, as he made his way across the floor to his own quiet, odour free domain.

These days, George did not recognise many of the younger faces; few were employed at the newspaper as long as he.

A young female intern, early twenties, with short-cropped purple hair, stared as he walked past her desk. "Who’s that?" she asked her colleague, sitting opposite in her strong Liverpudlian accent.

Ten years her senior, fashion editor Beverley Grange glanced up with tired eyes over the top of her reading glasses at the man, early sixties, carefully weaving his way through the rows of desks, across the floor, avoiding eye contact with other staff. His non-distinctive, slightly ill-fitting dark brown pinstriped suit, with an overcoat folded over his left arm, and a full-length black gentlemen’s brolly hanging from his wrist, looked very much from another era.

"Oh," Beverley replied, finally realising who exactly the intern was commenting on, the unimposing man heading for the far corner of the office. "Oh, that's George," she sighed, then went back to preparing her copy for publication.

The young female nodded and tapped her lips with her Bic pen. "I've seen him before. Floats in and out without a word to anyone. Looks a bit of a nutter. What does he do?"

"Compiles the crossword puzzles," Beverley replied, uninterested.

"Really? I’ve never seen him at any of the editorial meetings. You mean those cryptic puzzles and all that sort of thing? He does them? Wow. My dad used to crack his brain on them every Sunday afternoon. Drove my mum mad, that did. Dead hard they are. I could never solve them."

"Me neither." Beverley said, dropping her pen and abandoning her text. She removed her reading glasses, rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, and glanced around the room. "In fact, I don't think anyone in the office has ever completed them twice in a row. He always comes up with brain crunchers."

"Brain crushers you mean. So, he is a nutter," she sneered.

Patina (6), finish (6), lustre (6), perfection (10)

No one knew how George managed to avoid the compulsory editorial meetings, annual Christmas parties, receptions of expired, retired, or job-changing colleagues, but he did. The tedium of shaking hands and explaining his work to someone new, or listening to drunken co-workers talking about their latest exploits with bad breath bathed in a vapour of alcohol and vomit, was all too much for him to bear. After his first years of employment he developed an art for avoiding nearly all forms of contact with anyone in the office not connected to his work.

There was only one person of course, and that was enough.

Unmindful to the general noise of people talking, chatting on phones and typing on keyboards, he strolled unobtrusively towards his own tiny office in the corner.

A treasured luxury in an age of desk sharing and cutbacks, he had successfully negotiated an irreversible clause into his contract when he first joined the newspaper; a guaranteed private office. However, the actual metered space had significantly diminished over the years. Now there was just enough room for a small desk and a chair, and no more. During the last downsizing, his own hat and coat stand was made redundant. The tall late-Victorian, dark-brown mahogany stand now resided in his house just inside the front door, next to the near identical stand inherited from his parents after they died.

The moment his door closed and the noise outside became muted – tranquillity returned.

Calm (4), peace, (5), tranquillity (12), equilibrium (11), work (4)

George, unaware he was being observed through the opaque glass window of his office by another female in her early 50's, settled into his chair.

Immediately, she came into action, going through motions that had long turned into routine. She opened a locked drawer under her desk, and removed a small box filled with envelopes, all cleanly cut open, together with folded emails lodged between, ready for inspection.

As always, she knocked gently on the door and waited for permission to enter.

"Come in," George said, his voice scarcely audible.

Holding the box firmly, she opened the door just enough to step in.

"Good afternoon George," she said, cheerfully. "We've got a healthy batch this week. It should keep you busy for a while."

George gave a short but shy smile. For less than a second, he glanced up at the middle-aged woman and made eye contact as she placed the box in the middle of his small century-old, patina rich desk.

"I'll drop around later to see if you've picked any winners. Quite a few this week, I’m sure."

"Thank you Matilda," his soft voice answered, as he gazed at the overflowing box in front of him.

She lingered, as if wanting to ask something. George never noticed, his mind was elsewhere.

Winner (6), cinch (5), facile (6), sorted (6), systematise (11)

He reached out and pulled the box of letters and emails towards him.

"Right," she sighed, with an air of finality, "I’ll leave you to it." Matilda closed the door and returned to her desk.

Turning his attention to the box, George ran his hand along the edge of the letters and emails. At least two hundred, he thought. Finding a winner would be quick. The cryptic crossword last week was one of the easiest he had published in months, possibly years.

He had to give them hope.

Matilda could have picked out a winner, but that was not the way things worked in his tiny department governed by time and tradition. George was head of his own one-man operation devising the cryptic and quick crossword puzzles that appeared in all the Times newspapers. Each would normally take about thirty minutes to work out, except Sunday. The cryptic crossword puzzle for the Sunday Times was meant to be difficult. If it did not crack brains, its reputation would flounder. Created by his predecessors in the early part of the twentieth century, standards were set, and had to be upheld, no matter what.

He gently took hold of the first bunch of letters and emails. Matilda had sorted them in the usual manner. The first to arrive were at the front and last at the rear. Sense of pride that everything was fair and square for those who took the time and effort to solve the puzzles, was utmost paramount.

The prize – a rolled gold fountain pen worth two hundred pounds. Very generous, he thought. Not that he agreed to this altruistic prize depicted by senior management. He could remember the day when printing the winners name in the newspaper was more than enough accolade.

As usual, and according to his instructions, the cut-out puzzle solution remained inside the envelope, concealed. He knew of secretaries and assistant editors in rival newspapers who removed the solved puzzle and pinned it to the outer envelope for the editor to check, all for convenience. To George, it represented a violation. Years of working in intelligence during the Cold War had ingrained a strong compulsion for privacy and confidentiality. Even the most facile answers to crossword puzzles should not be exposed with a paperclip for all to see. Matilda had strict instructions to keep the box in the small locked drawer under her desk, which she dutifully did.

He could trust Matilda.

Confidence (10), certitude (9), guardian (8), cerberus (8)

A brief smile of inner merriment rose within him for a couple of seconds, but he quickly quelled it. Within ten minutes he found a winner and was in the process of writing down the name and address when his telephone rang.

"Hello?" He answered, then recognised the caller at the other end. "Ahh, Benton old friend," he said, in a mild uplifting voice. "How are you? Haven’t they pensioned you off yet?"

"Oh no, I’m still here," Benton replied, "but in general I spend most of my time in the garden, except for the last couple of weeks. Things have been getting a trifle hectic."

"Well at least you’re happy I’m sure. To what do I owe the honour of your call?"

"I have a small job to do and I'd like to use your services, if you don't mind, that is?"

"Of course, you never stop working for Queen and Country, do you?"

"Or retire," Benton replied. They both chuckled.

"I'd be happy to do a placement for you. When?"

"If it could go out next Sunday, then that would be wonderful."

George glanced up at the mundane calendar pinned to the grey wall next to his desk. "You will have to be quick. The deadline is still Friday, as usual."

"I was going to bring them around myself, but I could give them to you now, if that's all right with you?"

"Yes of course. I’d be happy to do that, no problem whatsoever."

George wrote down the words Benton dictated. "Very good. I’ve got that. I should be able to think of questions that will match. Anything else?"

"How about dinner sometime soon?"

"Now that would be nice," George replied. "It's been a while."

"Not this week, too busy. Let me give you a call when the time is right."

"That’s fine, Benton. I’ll speak to you soon."

George looked down at the words on the note pad. From a locked drawer he removed a separate folder containing special blank crossword templates for the Sunday edition. He checked the week number on the calendar, then pulled out the corresponding template. Benton had an exact copy.

Three hours later, George opened the gate to the small garden of his early twentieth-century terraced house in the quiet Wimbledon suburb. The leaves on the few shrubs had turned yellow and fallen.

Deciduous (9), evanescent (10), fugacious (9)

An autumn chill hung in the air. Time to sweep the path and remove the dead leaves tomorrow, and that would be enough gardening until spring. From his jacket pocket he removed a small bunch of keys and inserted one into the Yale lock he had known his entire life.

Home (4), safety (6), warmth (6), seclusion (9)

Inside the darkened hallway, a ray of sunlight deflected through the blue, red, and yellow arched stained-glass windows onto the rustic brown and white diamond shaped floor tiles in the hallway that carried on through to the small kitchen at the back. Two small paintings with unassuming scenes of the English countryside hung randomly on both walls, left and right. Above them, small, hand sized Japanese puzzle boxes sporadically decorating the remaining free space, rested on little dark-brown wooden ledges.

George hung his dark tweed overcoat and placed his brolly in the mahogany hat and coat stand that had previously resided in his office. Next to it stood his parents near identical stand. A gentlemen’s brolly and a woman’s umbrella rested upright in the umbrella well, as they had done for the last twenty-five years.

George headed for his very private comfort zone.

Reserved (7), non-public (9), solitary (8), sequester (9)

With less light than the hallway, the front sitting room curtains were always drawn, with just a small gap not to warrant use of the early fifties floral ceiling lamp in the middle of the room. The scent of soft, sweet wood with a hint of furniture polish greeted him. Visitors who came to the house were brought into the dining room at the rear. His front sitting room was special. No more than one other person had entered this hallowed sanctuary within the last twenty years.

George poured himself a Drambuie from a small drinks cabinet and sat down in the worn leather armchair once governed by his father. Many years ago it was turned towards the fireplace, now it faced outward, the most ideal position for concentration, as well as the best view. After taking a sip, his eyes fell on to a small box that lay on the rosewood side table next to the armchair. Unlike the petite, hand-sized boxes in the hallway, this was twice as large.

George took it in his hands and ran his fingers gently over the wood.

Masterful (9) artistry (8), adroit (6), cryptic (7), hermetical (10), obscure (7)

It felt smooth, old, silk like, with fine lines carved into the wood which gave the impression of little drawers.

He raised it to eye-level and studied it closely.

From the moment he left the house that morning, the ornate box had occupied his mind. Benton’s telephone call had briefly disrupted his train of thought, but now, feeling refreshed and energised, he was once again engrossed in his most recent puzzle. The person who sold it claimed it was a doll’s house cabinet. He knew better but did not say. To George, it had puzzle written all over it.

Cylinder (8), mortise (7), fastening (9), conundrum (9), mystifyier (10), enigma (6)

Carefully, he placed his fingers on each side of the box and pressed. A small drawer opened, empty. This he had already done many times before, but knew there had to be more to it. The finely carved lines were just that, lines, but he had his doubts. George turned the box over and tried to peer inside. With nothing obvious to see, he was about to give up, then had an idea.

His fingers slid into the open slot, and moved them from left to right, it was certainly empty. Feeling slightly defeated, he gently shoved his hand in deeper. The fleeting idea of getting stuck worried him, and the notion of damaging the box began to seriously play on his mind. Carefully rooting as deep as he dared, he felt something – a lever.

This was new.

Joy (3), Glee (4), wonder (6), rapture (7)

Never had he come across anything like this before. A brief smile crept to the corners of his mouth. A tempered rush of excitement heightened his senses; this was the thrill. Tenderly, not wanting to damage the lever, he pushed against it and heard a click. A second drawer, directly beneath the first, sprung open.

Surprise (8), revelation (10), amazement (9), eureka (6)

The open top drawer obscured any view of the one beneath it. While attempting to close the top drawer, the bottom began to close in unison. Twice he tried to close the top drawer separately and twice the bottom drawer moved with it. They were connected, but how? Why? The puzzle had deepened. George couldn't believe the excitement.

Reaching for his glass of Drambuie, he paused to concentrate.

Relax (5), concentrate (11), ruminate (8), ponder (5)

Two minutes later, he tried to pull the bottom drawer out completely, it proved fruitless. Repeating the first procedure, he pushed the bottom drawer back in; it clicked into place. Once again, he inserted his fingers into the top drawer, pushed the lever, and the bottom drawer sprung open. Leaning back in the armchair, he took another sip of Drambuie. For the next ten minutes he stared at the box in near absolute silence – the only sound being the faint ticking of the early-thirties mantelpiece clock on top of the fireplace.

The solution was somewhere, but where?

Scrutinise (10), inspect (7), analyse (7)

George shifted in his armchair, then sat upright. He turned the box around, the drawers faced outward, and slowly ran his fingers over the smooth wood at each end. Unnoticed before, he felt two dull points. Both slightly protruding, no more than a half a millimetre on either side, and hardly detectable. Shoddy workmanship or water damage may have caused the wood to expand ever so slightly, but George knew better. A box so expertly crafted as this would have no craftsmanship flaws. Water damage so precise – affecting nothing else, was impossible. There had to be more.

He had a thought.

Turning the box around with the drawers now facing towards him, he placed each index finger over the bumps and pressed hard. Using both thumbs, he pushed against the top drawer; it slid in with a gentle smooth glide. The bottom drawer finally remained open. George gasped an air of success.

The rush of achievement in solving the puzzle was highlighted even more when he noticed a small, cream-coloured parchment lay rolled inside the compartment. Covered in Peony petals, a Chinese flower normally associated with wealth and aristocracy in ancient times. Familiar since he used the name of the flower in his cryptic crosswords once or twice; a clue only one or two people could solve.

Mystery, (7), puzzlement (10), apocryphal (10)

He smiled briefly, then carefully removed the petals and parchment, opened it out to reveal small Chinese characters. He had no idea what they meant, but he knew someone who did. George reached for the old seventies black telephone next to him and punched in a number.

"Hello, Benton? Yes, it's me, George. I found something you might be interested in. A Chinese silk parchment, eleventh century, I think. At least the box may be, the parchment could be later. I thought you might want to have a crack at unravelling it."

"Really? It sounds like a piece of Chih. Expensive in those times. Where did you get it?"

"A little present I discovered in a puzzle box I recently acquired. I must say, it does look very authentic."

Benton sounded excited. "And very rare indeed, I can imagine."

"I'll bring it with me when I see you next time."

"That's very kind of you George, I would love to see it."

"The markings are very clear."

"Really? A real challenge."

"Yes, for both of us."

"Talking about challenges, did the work for Sunday go okay?"

"Yes, it’s in."

"Excellent. Thank you very much, George, you're a real crypto master. I’ll get back to you on the dinner, it’s impossible to pin a date at the moment."

"No rush Benton, you always know where to find me."

"Yes, you are not one for change, are you?" Benton chuckled. "Speak to you soon, old friend," and hung up.

George leaned back in his armchair and took another sip of Drambuie. He acquired the box about a month ago for more money than he wished to part with. Now that he had discovered the hidden parchment, its worth had increased astronomically.

Since the purchase, little else had occupied his mind. The beauty of the seemingly simple box fascinated him. He could not help but wonder about its secrets. The contents were indeed interesting, but, to George, the mystery of the box itself was the real prize. Rarely had he seen such an unpretentious work, yet so complicated. Other than the few carved lines, there were no markings on the outside whatsoever. It resembled a block of wood, but he realised from the moment he first saw it, too beautiful and simply crafted to be just that.

Boxes like these did not really exist before the nineteenth-century. Was the parchment original? What did it mean? Benton should be able to decipher the ancient markings; it was after all, his hobby. The puzzle would be partially solved. He was not sure he would ever get to the bottom of it. Time had buried many secrets. Selling it on could be very beneficial. Especially now that anything old and Chinese was selling well at the prestigious auction houses. It could even secure him a very nice pension for the next thirty years. But would he sell it? Never.

Feeling relieved and proud of his little conquest, he took another sip and stared up at the walls of his small living room.

Small Chinese and Japanese puzzles and boxes rested on their individual handmade shelves, spaced evenly throughout the room.

Children (8), family (6), progeny (7), treasured (9)

Only a fraction of his collection, he began when he was ten years of age. His uncle, who had worked with the Americans after the surrender of the Japanese after World War II, gave him a puzzle box he picked up in Tokyo when he realised his nephew's passion for puzzles as a young boy. The collection grew until it filled every inch of his bedroom then extend it to the garage in his late teens. It was not long before he began to construct his own little puzzles and intricate boxes, including the wooden plinths they stood on. After his parents died, they gradually filled every room in the house. Each with its own private pedestal – the beauty of it fascinated him. It was probably also the reason why he never married. Any girl of interest back in his youthful years never shared his fascination. Only his parents were his true fans, and they were long gone. These days he isolated himself from everyone, except Benton, who seemed to be the only person who understood his mind and accepted his peculiar interests.

#murder puzzle crime London spy

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britishinvasionlevel3 · 6 years

Text

The British invasion (the Beatles)

By Nathan, Lucy, Harry, Jacob Conor and Breaaaaa What was the British invasion? A musical movement of the mid-1960s composed of British rock-and-roll groups whose popularity spread rapidly to the United States. An overview of the Beatles and the origins of the British Invasion. How did this happen? In the 1950’s the transatlantic merchant seamen brought blues and rock and roll records back from America to Liverpool. The teens such as Paul McCartney and john Lennon (2 members of the Beatles), became obsessed with blues and rock and lived listening to this music. Since all of the rock/blues artists over in America had left to either join the army or engage in other activities such as Elvis, Buddy Holiday and Chuck berry. The American citizens didn’t have much to listen to. However over in Liverpool, musicians were evolving and taking over Britain. The kinks dusty springfeild the rolling tones logo the hollies the yard birds the animals

Social and political impact of the British invasion starring the Beatles: The British invasion kicked off in the mid-1960s. when the president John F (1963). He was assassinated John F. causing the Americans youths to rebel against authorities. The British Invasion took their minds off the tragedy and had young teens focus on something more cheerful. The Beatles upbeat and catchy songs helped heal American citizens and soon they were a big hit over there. The message that the Beatles gave in their music affected people's thoughts, becoming more influential than “political control”. It opened millions of minds to ideas of peace and freedom and equality. They were the most influential band at the time. The Beatles were also close to some members of the royal family. The Beatles, influenced their fans to “think, act, and even dress differently”. John Lennon (a member from the Beatles), made a famous remark telling people in their seats to “clap while the rich rattle their jewellery” showing that “non-wealthy”, people sacrificed a lot just to see the Beatles perform. It was said in newspaper articles that “many people couldn't hear the Beatles because of all the screaming at their concerts”. At times, fans got so crazy that police were called. The fans were also very protective of their idols, sending hate mail to Edward Heath, a minister who announced that "he didn't believe that the Beatles spoke the Queen's English". Many of the successful bands from the British invasion still have large fan bases today. You can see shirts being sold with the Rolling Stones’ logo. There is still merchandise from the Beatles and other groups.

Economics perspective The Beatles music hit the top of the U.S and U.K charts many times. By the end of 1964 the Beatles had sold $50 million records in the U.S and over 30 million records worldwide. In September of 1962 "Love Me Do" became their first number one hit on the U.S singles chart. At one point, the Beatles had the top 5 positions on the national singles chart. Their perfect blend of many styles and sounds created their own mix of music appealing to anyone, bringing them many fans, which combines to a huge number of sales. The Rolling Stones have sold over 200 million albums all over the world. In 1966, the Stones became number two artist in the U.S. and have made huge record deals with recording companies and made a film. The Rolling Stones have had the highest grossing tour during 2005-2007. $559 million was earned from their “A Bigger Band” tour. Fashion in the British invasion 1960s Fashion prior to the British invasion in 1964 was a continuation of the late 1950s. But with the Beatles came a new and very different fashion called “swinging” London. Mary Quant who had a small boutique in London hit upon the winning combinations and created a fashion feeding frenzy starting with the mini skirt and crowning with major fashion houses the likes of Chanel and Dior following suit. Styles which were previously driven by the necessities of the middle class were now being designed for young people. Everyone dressed in what they wanted to keep the style bold and fresh. Featuring bright colors, leg revealing lengths, geometric patterns and hyper tailored designs Mod Fashions were a must for the “in crowd”. Designers like Cardin, Emilio Pucci and Paco Rabanne jumped on this fashion trend to showcase their talents. Another fashion trend that was going around created by social anarchists was: The Hippie movement favored relaxed, comfortable and natural clothing styles. The norm for most college age kids was blue jeans and a tee shirt (tie-dyed or not). Rebelling against mainstream styles. the dave clark five

When was the British invasion announced? 7 Feb 1964 the CBS News played a story about the Beatles’ United States arrival that afternoon in which the correspondent said, “The British Invasion this time goes by the code name Beatlemania.” Two days later (Sunday, February 9) they appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show. What bands/artists were involved? The Beatles • the Dave Clark Five, • the Rolling Stones • the Searchers, the Hollies • the Animals • dusty Springfield • the Kinks • the Yard birds • Petula Clark Facts? The British Invasion. For two years after “I Want to Hold Your Hand” topped the U.S. charts in February 1964, the only sound that mattered had a British accent. Roots rock emerged in the 1960s as a combination of several genres and subgenres of rock that was popular at the time. Roots rock combined elements of folk, blues, country and rock ‘n’ roll. And, the genre was exemplified by its back to basics sound. Technology in the 1950s-60s In the 1960s Television and tv sets became much more popular during the 1960s, with BBC2 broadcasting its first colour pictures in 1967. Famous programmes from the 1960s included: • Coronation Street (which first aired as a twice-weekly drama in 1960 on Granada television); • Doctor Who (first broadcast in 1963 about a time-travelling adventurer, initially devised as a fun way of teaching children about science and history); • Magic Roundabout • thuderbirds In 1966, the first Intercity train was used, which could travel much quicker than old steam and diesel trains. Many trains now run using electricity, which is much quieter and cleaner. In 1963, the first touch-tone telephones were introduced. Spacewar! was devised in 1961 and is one of the earliest known digital computer games. in the 1950's, passenger jets entered the service. American airlines ordered the pioneering Comet, but Canadian, British and European airlines could not ignore the better operating economics of the Boeing 707. Boeing became the most successful of the early manufacturers. Frank McNamara came up with the idea of the credit card when he went out to supper with a dinner partner. His partner forgot his wallet, and that gave McNamara the idea for the credit card. His idea was that you would have a card that would be accessible always with money on it. The first generation was introduced in the late 1953 model year and ended in 1962. Polo white convertibles were introduced in the 1953 model. It was often referred to as the "solid-axle". Digital modems developed from the need to transmit data for North American air defense during the 1950s. Modems were used to communicate data over the public switched telephone network. A modem sends and receives data between two computers. Dances in the 1960s The swing The watusi The hitchhiker The loco motion The stroll The hully gully The pony The swim The mashed patato The jerk The dances weren’t set and they were all about feeling the music that was being played.

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