I wanna be on top

As I begin to write this, you should be watching the new series of Britain's Next Top Model. And if, at 9pm on Monday 5th July, you're not, why the hell are you sat here reading this when you could be? Step away from the laptop and switch on Living TV! I have no vested interest in publicising the programme by the way, I merely, from my reluctant erm, TV critic stance, think the new series, hosted by Elle 'The Body' Macpherson, is hilarious.

Note the word 'hilarious' instead of 'brilliant.' Of course it is brilliant in its own way but brilliant is a dangerous word, I'm not going to get into a debate about brilliance. Brilliance suggests a masterpiece. Brilliance suggests uniqueness. There's nothing unique about this series of BNTM, because it is so obviously modelled ('scuse the pun) on the American counterpart. Before Elle came along, the UK version was flat, it had no big name hosts or judges (sorry, Lisa Snowdon), it paled in comparison. The whole point of the Top Model franchise is that it is as funny, over-the-top and fabulous as possible. In short, it's so bad, it's (and there's that word again) brilliant.

Anyway, I'm digressing - this will be dress related if it kills me! - one addition to the new series that guarantees the show hilarity is designer Julien Macdonald. He's so welsh, so dry, and so bitchy, you'll love him. I interviewed him for TVT a few weeks back and he had something to say about everything – short models, fat models, ugly models... It was one of those interviews where I knew he was trying to be provocative so by the end I wouldn't have flinched if he had told me I was fat and ugly.

Instead, when I asked him who he'd love to dress, he replied: 'Well, I haven't dressed you yet, you can be top of the list!' If anything was going to melt away my steely journalist facade (not that I have one but I like to pretend I do). Sigh.

Respect to Julien for bringing high end to the high street all those years ago with his 'Star' collection for Debenhams, and respect to him for believing we should all have a little bit of glamour in our lives.
'I think that old kind of glamour is coming back into fashion. Now women can be whatever they want,' he told me. 'You see more realistic women on the runway, more real women, more real clothes, much more dresses, the trouser suit has gone, thank God.'

Erm, Julien, the trouser suit is alive and well! Well, it is in my book. As my relentless pursuit of the perfect Ossie Clark two-piece continues...

How do I love thee, Ossie?

Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell crepe de chine maxi dress (sigh)

One of the reasons for calling my blog Dreams In Dresses was because so often you daydream about a particular dress or a designer you can't afford but there's such an affinity there, you never give up hope that one day, the right funds and perfect fit will come together like the two most difficult remaining pieces in the world's longest and most boring jigsaw.

I came closer to that day last weekend when I stumbled across a beautiful vintage boutique, Hope & Harlequin, on Sydney Street in Brighton. Among the delicate rails of carefully selected designer pieces, there were not one but two 1960s/1970s Ossie Clarks. And they both fitted me perfectly. What are the chances?

I should repeat here that I came closer, (unfortunately I couldn't justifiably purchase either at that moment) I should also backtrack that to own an Ossie Clark is my ultimate dream, which is what made the Hope & Harlequin experience that little bit more special. 

How often do you feel comfortable enough to try on clothes you'd really-love-to-buy-but-realistically-can't and not lead the shop assistants up the garden path? It's all too easy to try something on, sheepishly mumble something about going to find a cash point and never return. But here, both ladies were friendly and helpful (adjusting straps and giving me shoes to try on with etc) but above all realistic. They take payment in installments and genuinely seem to care who goes away with which of their clothes. 

Ossie Clark biased cut crepe de chine trouser suit (sigh)

I'm seriously considering taking up the offer of installments if the maxi dress or the suit is still there next time I visit. But sadly, I know they probably won't be. That's Ossie Clark for you. I've been fascinated with his and one-time wife/one-time creative partner Celia Birtwell's designs ever since reading his journals when I was living back at my parents' house after graduating (I spent a lot of time at the library, along with lots of other frustrated people searching for meaning). Since then, I've written articles about him and searched high and low for his designs whenever at fairs/boutiques/markets. He's become a bit of a hobby...

I always imagined if I bought a piece of Ossie it would be one of his dresses, complete with Birtwell print, but after trying on this pale pink two-piece, I'm not so sure! It reminds me of something he would have dressed Patty Boyd (or even erm, Mick Jagger) in, in the 1970s. And while Celia's prints live on in her more recent lines for Topshop or John Lewis, there's something a lot more rare and covetable, even sacred, about his tailoring, through the bias-cut, use of collars and draping fabrics.

If you're not familiar with Ossie and would like to know more, read this. Hobby? That's just a polite word for obsession.

What the Angels have in store this year...

...has got to be better than last.

Leather handbag in black. Belonged to... who?

Only one week to go before Angels The Costumiers opens its doors to fashion experts, fashion wannabes and even the local milkman if he wants to come. But I'm not going to start a countdown from now until 8.30am on February 6th when doors open to their annual vintage clothes sale. It's not that I'm not excited, I'm just realistic, and after last year, a little jaded.

I was one of the 5000 frill-seekers who queued for two hours to pile into a Wembley warehouse to rummage through rooms of smelly cardboard boxes for the first sale in the film and theatrical suppliers 160 year history. I'm glad I did, but it wasn't quite the historical moment I had hoped for. There was no sign of Ossie Clark or Bill Gibb, not even a whiff of Aquascutum. There was next to nothing but a couple of nondescript handbags and scraps of material left.

Having invested in a plastic bag worth 50 quid (you buy a bag for either 10, 20 or 50 and run around filling it. A bit like Supermarket Sweep, luckily without Dale and his tan, sadly without any bonus prizes), I ended up bargaining with the staff in desperation. I couldn't find anything I wanted to buy but they wouldn't do refunds. In the end, they gave me a 20 back and let me fill a 20 quid book bag instead.

I left disappointed and weighed down with books I still haven't even read a whole year on. My friend Sarah found a couple of bits, taking home this black leather handbag, by (we're not really sure) but positively reeks of vintage drama, having belonged to Greta Saachi in Beyond The Sea in erm, 2004. How I came to own it, I can't really remember, I can only imagine she was shutting me up with a consolation prize after having to listen to me on a train out of Wembley...

Susie Bubble's had a sneak preview and I'm VERY jealous. Because I just know there are gems to find. I just don't know if, like last year, I'll be lucky enough to find them.