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This paper considers the garments produced by two London Ready-to-Wear companies; Rose and Blairman and Matita, during the 1920s and 1930s. It centres on the sportsclothes produced by these two firms and questions why their output was primarily made from knitted textiles. Rose and Blairman and Matita later went on to become leading wholesale couture firms. The focus period of this paper largely represents the pre-history of the wholesale couture sector, the term first used in the mid 1930s. However, this paper establishes why knitted textiles and sportsclothes were central to Rose and Blairman and Matita’s output and how these ultimately helped to ensure the early success of the sector.

Writing in 2022 we are at a global crisis point, as our use of the planet’s finite resources outstrips supply. Our current lifestyles continue to perpetuate this problem by encouraging excessive and wasteful models of consumption. One of the most detrimental industries for this is the clothing industry. Our fashion cycle is now programmed to be ‘ultra-fast’, encouraging excessive consumption of garments causing myriad environmental issues. This article argues that there are developing models of both manufacture and consumption, which can satiate this need for ‘fast’ fashion whilst being part of the wider sustainable fashion conversation. Rather than understanding the short-term life cycle of clothing as inherently unsustainable, this can be reframed as matching a garment’s use phase to the longevity of the material it is made from. This article uses a material culture approach to explore original 1960s paper garments, alongside a critical analysis of the sustainability of their manufacture and disposal from a green chemical perspective. Using the combined knowledge and experience of its authors, from historians and sustainable fashion designers to green chemists and biochemical engineers, this article demonstrates how such garments could inspire new models of sustainable fashion production and consumption. We argue that the current paradigm of slow fashion as the only antidote to fast fashion must be challenged. Instead, the fashion and textile sector must consider a range of solutions to the environmental burden of fast fashion that are human-centred and sympathetic to all consumer demographics and needs.

There is a patch of red, slightly inflamed, dry skin on my right index finger that never quite heals. Typically more noticeable in the summer months, it is a sign of the imprint my clothing choices leave on me. This skin irritation has largely been caused by my penchant for tightly fitted 1950s and 1970s clothes, the worn skin symptomatic of having to pinch garments tightly together, so that metal zips, 50 years old or more, can slide up my back or the side of my torso with ease. My clothes tend to leave other marks too. From boning that has worn through its cotton binding with age leaving stab marks on my skin to red lines encircling my waist from belts secured tightly around my middle. Some may consider my clothing choices suffering for fashion. In an era of easy to wear soft clothing, my choice to encase my body in tight garments may seem surprising. Yet, I find these garments liberating at the same time, and despite the marks left on my skin, generally comfortable too. In these vintage pieces I feel confident and notably my posture is often improved. When I look closely at my clothes, I recognise that they do not just leave marks on me, but I leave marks on them too. As Ellen Sampson suggests, ‘in the performance of dressing and the practice of everyday life, we are marking and altering our clothes.’ This is most notable in the make-up marks I seem to leave behind. For example, the faded whisper of red lipstick, smeared on linings, where garments have been hastily pulled over my head as I undress.

Ordinary clothes have extraordinary stories. In contrast to academic and curatorial focus on the spectacular and the luxurious, Everyday Fashion makes the case that your grandmother’s wardrobe is an archive as interesting and important as any museum store. From the moment we wake and get dressed in the morning until we get undressed again in the evening, fashion is a central medium through which we experience the world and negotiate our place within it. Because of this, the ways that supposedly ‘ordinary’ and ‘everyday’ fashion objects have been designed, manufactured, worn, cared for and remembered, matters deeply to our historical understanding. Beginning at 1600 – the start of an era during which the word ‘fashion’ came to mean stylistic change rather than the act of making – each chapter explores the definition of everyday fashion and how this has changed over time, demonstrating innovative methodologies for researching the everyday. The variety and significance of everyday fashion cultures are further highlighted by a series of illustrated object biographies written by Britain’s leading fashion curators, showcasing the rich diversity of everyday fashion in British museum collections. Collectively, this volume scratches below the glossy surface of fashion to expose the mechanics of fashion business, the hidden world of the workroom and the diversity and role of makers; and the experiences of consuming, wearing and caring for ordinary clothes in the United Kingdom from the 17th century to the present day. In doing so it challenges readers to rethink how fashion systems evolve and to reassess the boundaries between fashion and dress scholarship.

The first book to consider the subject, Wholesale Couture: London and Beyond, 1930-70 seeks to revise the notion that wholesale couturiers were simply copyists and demonstrate the complexities of their design processes and business strategies. This term has fallen out of usage; however, it was used to describe the pinnacle of the British ready-to-wear fashion industry between the 1930s and 1960s. Companies within this sector have typically been recognised as creators of high-quality copies of French haute couture, using ready-to-wear techniques. Liz Tregenza traces wholesale couture garments from concept to usage, considering design, manufacture, branding, promotion, retail and export. She looks beyond the garments produced and investigates the people behind these firms, consequently demonstrating the significant role that largely Jewish immigrants played in the development and success of this industry. The book also considers the wider social and economic factors that affected manufacturers and consumers; the effect of austerity, rationing and the Utility scheme, and the pressing need for wholesale couturiers to export their products internationally. It demonstrates that 1946 was a critical year for re-building and re-imagining the London fashion industry and that wholesale couturiers were at the centre of these developments. Furthermore, it reveals the impact of changing consumer purchasing power, including the burgeoning youth market, for fashion manufacturers. Offering a new perspective on British fashion history, Wholesale Couture demonstrates that wholesale couturiers were vital in cementing London's status as a ready-to-wear fashion centre.

In 1958 a new collaborative group of British ready-to-wear fashion houses was formed; The Fashion House Group (FHG). This group brought together the leading ready-to-wear manufacturers of the time with a focus on high quality, high style garments at all price levels. The FHG are an example of a horizontally co-operative fashion group, as Shinobu Majima suggests, ‘competitors often build horizontal relationships in order to share information and advance social exchanges.’ Indeed, horizontal co-operation was key to many of the FHG’s promotional strategies that will be discussed within this chapter. The FHG were an export minded group, seeking to increase sales and disseminate British ready-to-wear fashion internationally. The 1950s were a key period in the increasing globalisation of the fashion industry, thanks in part to cheaper and faster air travel which allowed quick dispatch of garments and easier international trips for manufacturers and buyers alike. Despite the international focus of the group, London was central to the FHG’s promotional strategies and the majority of members’ brand identities, with all firms’ headquarters in the heart of London’s West End. The city featured prominently in group members’ advertisements and the majority had ‘London’ on their labels too, recognising the symbolic value of the London label internationally. As founder member Frederick Starke suggested, there was a ‘snob appeal’ connected with the London label - seen as an exclusive luxury product overseas. This was particularly true for the desirable American market who wanted to ‘buy something which is not to be found in every shop in the high street.’ This chapter investigates the activities of this pioneering group, focusing on how the FHG disseminated their designs internationally; to the fashion press, store buyers, and to a lesser extent, the general public. It begins by considering the group’s bi-annual ‘London Fashion Week’ (LFW) established in 1959 and the publicity it re

Cristóbal Balenciaga is widely recognized as one of the leading twentieth century couturiers. His dynamic designs redefined fashionable silhouettes internationally. This paper will consider the impact of his designs in Britain, focusing upon how London wholesale couturiers copied, adapted and took inspiration from his garments. The majority of London wholesale couturiers’ garments were copied or adapted from Parisian haute couture. They modified these designs to meet ready-to-wear manufacturing techniques, producing high-quality garments targeted at a middle-class consumer. By focusing on two silhouettes introduced in the late 1950s; the sack and baby doll, this paper discusses how these firms translated Balenciaga’s designs. The sack, in particular, was rapidly adapted by London wholesale couturiers who managed to successfully modify it for the ready-to-wear market. By drawing on a range of source material, including original garments, newspaper and magazine editorials, this paper will evaluate how Balenciaga’s design esthetic was translated by wholesale couturiers for consumption by a middle-class public in the 1950s.

On 31 January 1950 British actress Jean Simmons turned twenty-one. At the time Simmons was one of the most popular and successful British film stars, voted actress of the year in the Daily Mail National Film awards the same year. Simmons twenty-first birthday was therefore viewed as international news. However, rather than choosing a birthday wardrobe from a haute couturier, as a film star of her status undeniably could have, Simmons chose garments designed by London ready-to-wear firm Frederick Starke. This article questions why Simmons chose a wardrobe from Starke and investigates how these garments helped Simmons to project a certain image. It also considers how the outfits selected were later used as Simmons' costume in the Ealing Studios crime drama Cage of Gold (Dearden, 1950). The film credits Anthony Mendleson, Ealing Studios resident designer and wardrobe supervisor, for the costumes. However Starke designed the majority of the clothes worn by Simmons in the film. This is an intriguing example whereby Simmons' garments are, at once, both her personal clothing and her costume.