Boys and girls emerged straight from the sheets; with messy partings and a glistening of mischief in their eyes. Taking our hands, we were lead into the doorways of a forgotten time. Rose-tinted aviators, gold chains and graphic chinoiserie pyjamas opened up the world of peep-shows and wild parties. It was a fatal blur of glamour and naughtiness - one that Katie Eary perfects so well.
Gripping us into another dimension that typically only exists after 4am; teddy bears, peeping tom graphics and nipple tassels poked fun at the fight between innocence and sexuality. BBG boys Marcus Sivyer
, Simon Kuzmickas
and Asbjorn Appleby strutted past to the psychedlic soundtrack of by-gone beats. While luxurious materials such as cashmere, worn sheep-skin and campy silks referenced the private world of entrepreneur Paul Raymond - a man who transformed Soho under the post-war demand for sex. Like the liberating silhouettes, ready to be thrown off in an instance, he repackaged London’s red light district as something “saucy rather than seedy”.
Jumpers were tightly cropped and adorned with ostrich feathers, then thrown over free-flowing pyjamas. Morals were loose, and the fabrics even looser - as geometric prints soared in splashes of burnt orange and brown. Key styles of the early seventies, such as smoking jackets and awkward knits dripped with the juice of deep plum, tobacco-stained lips and what the designer calls “sex-stained beige”. The cocktail of abstract kinks and prints twisted gender into a surreal painting of youth; “a world we can’t help but admire, even though we probably shouldn’t”. Unearthing romance from the sleaze, modernity was found behind closed curtains of the past.
Words by Matthew Regan.
Photography by Caoimhe Hahn.