1968: "THE MOST SWINGING BOUTIQUE IN THE WORLD"

Cover pic from an editorial for LOOK magazine, 1967, scanned by Sweet Jane Blogspot 

Monday, 1 July

Chump and me got the train to Waterloo. The heat was unbearable and went from bad to worse. First went to Knightsbridge and ‘Way In’ - closed. Walked all down Brompton Road looking for ‘Pelisse’. Agony. Had to buy flip-flops in Woolworths. Set off for Sloane Street and were sent twice in the wrong direction. 

The heat was hell. We got a bus to Gordon Lowe’s, and I bought a pair of orange jeans (like Pol’s!). Back to Knightsbridge, got a bus to Kensington Church Street. God it was boiling. Biba’s is right outside the bus stop. It’s fantastic - I’d forgotten how 1920s it is. I suppose it’s the most swinging boutique in the world! All the girls are tall and thin with long hair and mod clothes, and all their boyfriends too. It makes me feel dreadfully inferior, there I was in my rubber flip-flops. Anyway, the clothes are glorious. Chump got a very pale pink suit (lovely, but, I think, too sophisticated for a 13-year old). I got a pair of tight pale yellow corduroys and a lime-green mini top with a lowish neck. We also got hats: a big floppy straw one and a big pink felt one.

We went into Bus Stop. Same sort of dresses as Biba’s; no blouses except for see-through ones. In Woolworths we got strawberries and two peaches for lunch. Chump nearly fainted but was saved by this nice chap who brought her some water. We staggered our way to Hyde Park and flopped under the nearest shady tree. After inspecting our clothes, having ‘lunch’, and me swallowing a fly, we left. Chump had to go bare-foot some of the way - agony because of the hot pavement!

Back to Knightsbridge and Harrod’s where I got a £4 bikini in striped towelling. Sweating like pigs we made our way home - but worse was to come. We had to wait for 20 minutes in a stationary train, so packed you couldn’t fit in one more person. Had to stand and weakly fan our faces. Then suddenly Chump leant forward gasping, and said she was going to be sick. Finally the man next to us got it through his thick head that she might be ill, and gave her his seat. An adorable chap next to him let her sit by the window, and a lady offered her some cologne. After the most ghastly journey we have ever spent, we got a taxi home.

Went straight down to the pool! Then went for a walk on the Heath, in our groovy gear. Lay in the grass under lots of sunlighty trees, and listened. Heard birds most distinctly, then the distant rumbling of traffic, then, occasionally the voices of a few golfers. That was all.

Ma and Pa were there when we got back. They had a lovely but very hot day: 500 people fainted at Wimbledon. 

Tuesday, 2 July

Felt awful in the morning. Drowsy and weak.

Got German back: 36/50 for the lit. That, with the proses and compo, comes to 65% - a B!!! I’m encouraged. Also got English - 24/30 for the Cassio essay (!) and 35/60 for the prose. Poor Pam got 23 or something.

After school I got a Tampax in Boots. It’s horrifying, you have to stick a whole tube inside you. I haven’t got the nerve, I don’t suppose I ever will. I thought it’d be easy. I wonder if Lillets is better.

Didn’t do any work. Instead wrote up yesterday in my Diary.

Ma, Pa and their straw hats got into The Telegraph - here’s the photo!

Wednesday, 3 July

Pam was so lucky with Wimbledon, she was given a first-row ticket by the Umpire’s stand. Wore my hair loose with a side parting (good, for once).

Prayers annoyed me. This girl who read the prayer got all worked up and carried away. It’s a form of hysteria and it annoys me that people are taken in. Does it annoy me because I’m not a believer? I doubt it as I don’t even want to be.

After lunch everybody watched Wimbledon. The most popular players are Okker, Ulrich, Newcombe, Roche, Fitzgibbon and Stolle. For looks, that is. I came bottom in German dictat: 4/10. German trans: lowest marks yet, but German lit. 72%. French very disappointing - the lit. was marked ridiculously hard. Tig came top with 69%.

Simone’s coming tomorrow, and it’s going to be hot again!

All the milk in the house is sour. It’s disgusting. You can even taste it in Ovaltine.

Thursday, 4 July

I wish I was as attractive as Sue Padgett. She does wear a lot of make-up but she does strike you. I couldn’t strike anybody.

That river trip is going to be rather spoiled by the Glyn boys. The vast majority will be Lower 6 weeds. I’ll have to warn Simone in advance. There’s dancing too - avoiding actions necessary!

Ma picked us up from school and we drove to London. Felt slightly worried, but confident she’d be nice. Saw all the swinging girls and their long-haired boyfriends going down the King’s Road. I felt so envious. Victoria Station was packed with Amitié International girls and boys awaiting their penfriends and we were herded into lines and numbers. Almost as bad as the school cruise! At last the French arrived and it was like two armies advancing with people allocated rapidly from both sides - hilarious. When I first saw Simone I thought it couldn’t be her as she looked about 13. But it was! She’s so sweet I don’t really mind. She’s shy and her English isn’t very good but she has a lovely big smile.

Got home and had supper - glorious salmon and strawberry flan. We talked a bit about sailing - they’ve got an Atlantia - and she gave me the most marvellous present, a blue and turquoise scarf with a leather purse to match. I’m so thrilled with them.

Looked at her Formidable after supper which is marvellous, intelligent and interesting. She looked at Petticoat and Honey. She considers they have too much advertising.

2020: I have no recollection of the French Formidable; clearly it was superior to Petticoat and Honey. Ever since 1967 I’d been bemoaning teen magazines, wishing they were more intellectual. What about covering homelessness, or the Viet-Nam War? Even Petticoat, “really quite a sensible magazine”, wasn’t good enough for me. Nor was the classier Rave, with its thick glossy paper and cool creative photography to which I subscribed (2/6 a month).

Petticoat’s strapline changed from “for the young and fancy free” (1966) to the more radical “new young woman” a year later. Equality for women began to seep through, not that I was aware of it. It took Nova (for women, not teens) to identify the first wave of feminism. Its legendary content (a 1966 fashion spread using black models; an article on 13-year-olds trying to be 18) was matched by its bold typography and sophisticated imagery.

Friday, 5 July

Chump reluctantly went to school. Simone rang up her family, and got through to her sister. We went for a walk on the Heath. It was hot and beautiful, and smelt of bracken and heather. Simone does look French actually. Today she wore navy corduroy trousers, a white top and a red cardigan, white socks with a red stripe, and white plimsols. She’s so sweet but she says very little.

Pa came home at lunch, and we packed for the boat. Simone and me went with Pa in the Lancia, and Ma took Mr Batchelor in the Merc. When we arrived Ma gave us last-minute instructions on the food and the sails etc (I don’t know what we’d do without her!). Wally came too, well stocked with jokes.

Set off for Cowes. The sea was as calm as a millpond, not even a ripple. After we passed the Forts, Pa and Mr B  put up the spinnaker for a trial run, but had to climb up the mast as the block got stuck. Simone knows no more about sailing than me! Got to Cowes and moored on the trots. Simone laid the table and served the strawberries, and I heated up the potatoes and the stew. It all turned out fine. She and me washed up, then discovered the gas canister had run out. Searched and searched for the new one - in vain. Can’t believe Ma’s got it wrong…!

Bed at 10.30. Me and Simone in the bows.

Saturday, 6 July

Terribly exciting - chaos in Cowes harbour at breakfast. Shouting and boats being let loose everywhere and we were too! Finally we left, and motored around trying to find a starting position. At 7.45 and at 8 the gun went off, accompanied by a rocket. Another at 8.15, and we were off. Pa surprisingly calm. Roly here too, a little ahead of us with his spinnaker up early. It needs the utmost skill to get it working at all, but Mr B is pretty proficient. Also he knows a lot about tides.

I went inside to make everyone coffee, which made me feel pretty sick. Afterwards I lay down on the deck. It was terribly hot and I fell asleep; Simone did too. Felt a bit worried about her getting bored doing nothing, but she’s very amiable and sweet. We were at our slowest around the Needles because we didn’t take notice of the tides. Our fastest bit was when the spinnaker was going beautifully - we raced past everybody! Heard the first gun go off at 5.30. Got in at 7.22.

We moored at Bucker’s Hard. Beaulieu River is so beautiful, with the gulls a mass of white dots on the marches, making a lovely racket with their cries. I changed into my Biba cords for dinner. Had sea-food cocktail, sauté chicken, and peaches and cream. There are some foul people at the Master Builder and I especially hate the young couples: men with black blazers and gold buttons, and girls with sexy dresses and dyed hair.

Wally had me in fits all day. Dad - “About turn: we’ll go underneath him”. Wally - “Hold your noses, we’re going under”!!! Pa says Wally snores like a revving Ferrari. Rowing home was hilarious, the current was so strong. We had to stop three times to give Dad a rest.

The Master Builder, Buckler’s Hard

Sunday, 7 July

Breakfast was foul: cereal with powdered milk, eggs and bacon made amid clouds of burnt newspaper, and rubbery tea made from the tap water (Pa’s unique brew).

I thought it was going to be a hot day again, but it turned out to be revolting. After Cowes it started to rain, and drizzled all day. Moreover, it got rather rough. I sat outside as I felt sick in. For lunch we had biscuits and whatever Wally could find. Poor Simone! I got wetter and wetter, in the end I was shivering. I felt grim. I sat there and let the rain wash away my tears. Then marvellous Pa got me two sleeping bags and wrapped me up in them, and after a while I fell asleep. Simone was in the cabin reading - she’s so patient. I felt fine once I’d taken my wet trousers off.

Got some oil from some chap on the way so that we could use the motor to get into the lock. Ma and Chump were waiting there for us. Ma said the calor gas was in the locker under the sink! CURSES.