Last updated on 16th December 2000
SM, like AB, got in touch with me as a fellow lover of Fifties fashion; he was born early enough to see these wonderful clothes first-hand, but to his eternal frustration by the time he was old enough to go out with girls, fashion had changed to styles which he didn't like - and I don't, having read about them. He has been kind enough to share a few memories of elegantly sexy women in the 1950s and afterwards with me, and to give permission for me to post them here.
Favourite memory is being about 9-10 [at the end of the 1950's - Webmaster's note] and on holiday, staying with relatives. In those days, kids got put to bed early so the adults could relax. I had been 'put to bed' early in an aunt's room. About 9pm, she came in to check on me - for some reason I convinced her I was safely asleep. She started then in the light from the open door to change her clothes, and I saw the whole thing - off came the ordinary day dress,slip, and bra, and on went a black corselet, black (seamed) nylons, high (stiletto) heels, powder, perfume, red lipstick. Then pearl necklace and earrings, and after a rummage in the wardrobe, a tight black skirt, then the fitted jacket, then the hat & veil. She preened a bit in front of the mirror before throwing the mink stole over her shoulder. I remember the sound of her heels on the lino and the rustle of the fabrics as though it were this morning. I remember her as a very kind 'auntie' who was not really an auntie at all - just a friend of my relatives who was putting the family up to help out. I have no idea who she was, and I never saw her again as that was our last day there and we never returned. Poignant, eh? Even though most of her beauty was lost on me, quite a bit was not, as she seems to have affected my sexuality rather considerably! I remember being really jolted by the 'performance' as I had no sisters, my mum was NO fashion plate, and I had never seen a sexy woman before. I had never even seen red nail polish before, and I can recall seeing her earlier in the day wearing it and almost jumping with shock - it seemed so outrageous! She was obviously a bit of a 'looker', though 10yr olds are no judge!
Later on, in school, at the age of about 14, a wonderful girl called Jean Ransome stuck in my mind - she only ever wore what I now know to be Aristock Harmony Point black seamed nylons and 4inch stiletto heels with her smart 6th form grey suit. Many were the happy days I followed her to school..She was SO pert!
After the dreadful mini skirt, it was like the death of sex! I suddenly realised in 1968 that the only remaining fitted suits to be seen were the wonderful BOAC air stewardess's uniforms - crisply tailored navy blue jackets/ pencil skirts and worn with a (fitted!) white blouse, pillbox hat, and stilettos. In 1969 they replaced them with what looked like a sort of charwoman's flowery frock - and the 70's were born. Arghhh!
Not a lot to tell, but still interesting. I was walking to work one spring morning when out of a house in front of me came 3 people - a very old woman, a man almost as old, and a woman I take to be about 60 - the youngest of the three. I have no idea of their relationship. The old couple were unremarkable, but the 'young' one - wow. She was tall and slender, and was wearing an immaculate 50's fitted suit, sort of honey coloured, with a really tight pencil skirt to two inches below the knee. Her figure was that of a 20 year old woman! Vintage seamed nylons with cuban heels in a chocolate brown offset the suit, and the pavement rang to the click, scrape and clatter of her 5" crocodile leather stilettos. The skirt was so tight you could easily see the suspender clips beneath. She carried a glossy black patent clutch bag under one arm.
Her face was a mask of 50's makeup - scarlet lips sneered in a pale powdered and rouged complexion, the black eyeliner flicking up at the edges of lids framed by plucked and sculptured black brows. Her hair was scraped back into a bun and brightened by huge pearl earrings and a 5 row pearl necklace. Her gaze was a shock - she looked right into your eyes and held your glance as if to say 'well, come on then'.. I saw her on a number of occasions, and she went through a range of about 5 fitted suits and a couple of coats to match, even a pillbox hat and veil one day. Pretty amazing for the 70's era, days of Santana, Led Zeppelin et al. She always stared hard at me whenever I saw her in the street, but I never had the nerve to speak to her - just couldn't think of what to say.
Again on my way to work, this time in 1987, I sat on the train and suddenly became aware of the woman opposite - floor length tightly fitted black coat, falling open at the waist to reveal black Aristoc Harmony Point vintage seamed nylons, her legs crossed in a short tight black leather skirt that allowed a glimpse of tautly suspendered stockingtop. Black velvet shoes studded with what looked to be small diamonds completed the outfit. Her red hair was tightly pulled up and stood up high in a patent leather band before cascading down to her derriere in a shockwave horsetail. Her eyes carried five different colours of eyeshadow. She wore one softly sheened black leather glove, but the other was off to reveal that the perfectly applied maroon lipstick perfectly matched the long flat ended nails. Every day she boarded the train with the seamed nylons and wonderful hair and makeup, but the coats changed - once a long black satin number, and often a glossy black genuine mink coat - absolutely verboten in today's PC climate. She didn't seem to give a damn. She looked as regal as Queen Victoria, and a damn site hotter! Her skirts were always short, often velvet, leather, or satin, and once she wore a scarlet satin sheath dress under the black mink. All this in a carriage full of women in jeans and trainers. I couldn't understand why she wasn't mobbed!
For a whole year I adored her each morning in private at 8.15am, and she never knew. Then she vanished, obviously to another job and another train.. A year passed. One night, a friend took me along to a special club - run by Skin 2. It was a fetish club. There were some amazing sights to be seen there, but the best in my opinion was the moment the door opened to reveal the lady from the train, resplendant in a black velvet evening gown with a lace-up corset-style back detail, elbow length black leather gloves, and of course, the black seamed nylons. I plucked up my courage and went across, asked her name - and to my amazement, she was really friendly - and called Sonia. She even wanted to chat. We danced and chatted together for perhaps an hour, during which I discovered that she lived with several lovers, taking each in turn as she fancied, and that one in particular supplied her with the nylons. She gave me her phone number too. For three days I tried to pluck up the courage to call her, and when I did, sure enough, you guessed, it was a dud. I obviously made a great impression!