Mod Dress in the Sixties
Mod Dress in the Sixties
Prompted by Barry Page
I came across the following article on Facebook, and was much impressed by the description. I'm sure it will bring back a few memories for the 'mod' and not so 'mod' among us. Enjoy!
THE MAGIC OF MOHAIR
‘Fast talking, slow walking, good looking – Mohair Sam’
So goes the chorus of a Charlie Rich sixties song ‘Mohair Sam’ which is, in essence, a paean to the Mohair suit .
What is it about wearing a mohair suit that evokes a feeling of absolute sartorial elegance?
Mohair – the very word has an exotic ring to it! To anybody who came of age in the sixties it conjures up a picture of the ultimate in male chic. Of nights in clubs and dancehalls absorbing the latest sounds attired in the iconic symbol of a generation – the mohair suit.
What is mohair? Why did it come to represent the ultimate in sixties chic?
Mohair is made from the hair of the Angora goat. Angora goats evolved originally from Tibet but came to Turkey in the 16th century. The goats were later introduced into USA in the mid nineteenth century. The USA is now the one of the world’s main producer of mohair along with South Africa and Turkey.
As material mohair has been in demand for much longer and there is evidence that the pharaohs of ancient Egypt wore clothing made of mohair. So King Tut was a Mod?!!!
Mohair was introduced to Britain in the 8th century and during the industrial revolution the mills of northern England became the world’s leading exporters of mohair.
The material itself has a wonderful sheen which contributed to its popularity as suit material. Being lightweight, wrinkle and moisture resistant meant that mohair suits were the ideal fashion accoutrement for sixties teenagers who often spent his evenings in sweaty clubs dancing the night away.
It is difficult to determine exactly where and how the mohair suit became de rigueur for a generation of British teenagers. Undoubtedly the wave of ‘cool’ jazz musicians that emerged in the formative years of what became ‘sixties pop culture’ had an influence. Artists such as Charlie Parker, The Modern Jazz Quartet and the ubiquitous Miles Davis were all to be seen sporting mohair suits.
Italian style was an influential factor in the development of the sixties look. Innovative clothing outlets such as Cecil Gee had been championing Italian styled suits since the late fifties. Short ‘bum freezer’ three buttoned jackets and tight trousers often in mohair were a staple of their shop windows.
Many influential US sixties musical heroes such as the Drifters, Otis Redding, The Temptations and Four Tops all appeared in publicity shots clad in mohair. Indeed, almost all the artists emerging from the flourishing Motown record label were clad in mohair.
Whilst by no means an influence on the sixties teenage generation musical tastes it had to be said that even ‘The Rat Pack’ looked pretty ‘cool’ clad in shimmering mohair!
The influence of television should not be underestimated. By the turn of the sixties the ‘box in the corner’ had become a welcome addition to many households. Early American TV series such as ‘Route 66’, ‘77 Sunset Strip’, ‘The Naked City’ and ‘Johnny Staccato’ all featured the heroes decked out in sharp clothes. ‘The Naked City’ and ‘Johnny Staccato’ in particular were relevant to the emerging teenage penchant for the mohair suit.
The Naked City starred Paul Burke as detective Adam Flint. Impeccably dressed with a button down shirt and tie and always wearing a suit, often made of mohair complemented with a narrow brimmed trilby, he cut a fine figure. It is easy to see how fashion conscious young teenagers could relate to the ‘cool looking’ characters.
Johnny Staccato starred John Cassavetes as a jazz pianist come private detective using Waldo’s basement jazz club as his office. The epitome of ‘cool’ Staccato was impeccably turned out and the smoky club with its resident band (featuring such jazz luminaries as Barney Kessel and Shelly Manne) added enormously to the overall ‘feel’. Set in Greenwich Village the club could just as easily have been transposed to Soho in the early sixties. The short lived series was written in part by Stirling Siliphant (now that is a name!!) who went on to do such sterling work in films such as ‘In the Heat of The Night’
Back in the clubs of London’s West End the burgeoning Mod movement wasted no time in noting the advantages of this wonderful new material and soon small bespoke tailors all over the capital were being besieged by young Mods wanting to acquire their own unique suit made from mohair.
Although the ‘mohair suit’ came to be viewed as an item of Mod ‘uniform’, in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Far from being uniform every suit was tailored to the individual in so many different ways.
Every mohair suit was made to precise requirements with regard to styling. The only common ‘thread’ was the material itself (I cannot believe I just used that phrase!).
The style of the jacket was normally fairly uniform in length but in every other respect no two were the same. The number of buttons on the cuff was normally three or four but some individuals opted for five as a mark of individuality. Two, three or four inside pockets were fitted according to taste.
Jacket vents were almost obligatory. The single vent was very popular and lengths varied from six inches up to fourteen inches .The number and type of pockets was very important and normally consisted of two standard pockets and one ticket pocket (two ticket pockets were not uncommon). Pockets were usually slanting and the angle was again a matter of personal choice.
The width of lapels had to be determined. Was a buttonhole required? Even the type of buttons was important. Buttons came in different colours and materials or maybe cloth covered?
And let us not forget the lining! Silk linings were very popular and colours were many and varied. Often in a darker or lighter shade of the material colour but often a complete contrast was used to great effect.
Trouser widths were fairly slim and usually between twelve and fourteen inches and never more than sixteen!
Two waist pleats were fairly common but again very much left to personal taste. Side adjusters were often fitted. A small waist fob pocket was normal sometimes often with a buttoned flap. Rear pockets were usually a standard requirement and again a buttoned flap was quite popular.
The length of the trousers was very important. When standing upright the trousers should just touch the throat of the shoe – just the right length to show enough sock without ‘flapping in the wind’
At various periods small refinements were added to trousers. Stepped bottoms were an option at one point – where the rear sections of the trouser legs were ‘stepped’ down between a half and a full inch. Another variation were small ‘vents’ up to an inch long at the bottom of the seams.
Finally there was the material itself. Mohair came in a variety different mixtures and colours.
Mohair suits were normally available in two or three ply signifying the number of yarns or cloths used to manufacture the material. Mohair was mixed with worsted or polyester to produce a different finish.
Sometimes different coloured yarns were combined to great effect resulting in the ‘two tone’ effect.
Tonik mohair was the piece de resistance.
Tonik was actually a material produced by fine cloth manufacturers Dormeuil.
Founded in Paris in 1842, they specialised in supplying finely woven fabrics sourced globally. In 1926 they centered their operations at Dormeuil House, off Regent St and in 1957 they introduced Tonik to the world. Basically a three ply mixture of mohair, the secret lay in the purity of the raw materials they sourced.
With a reputation for producing ‘the world’s best clothes’ Dormeuil Tonik mohair was the Holy Grail for any discerning young Mod.
The material itself was only half the equation, of course. Just as important was the tailor.
All over the country small corner shop tailors (usually Jewish) were the preferred choice of young Mods in search of perfection.
Although it was possible to have a suit ‘made to measure’ at High Street chain stores such as John Collier and Burtons at a cheaper cost than bespoke, the thought of faceless factory cutters and machinists ‘knocking up’ suits on piecework was no substitute for the loving care afforded by the smaller tailor.
Being born and brought up in Islington, North London we had a plethora of good quality tailors within a stone’s throw. By far the best was Aubrey Morris.
Aubrey Morris had a little shop on a small parade at the bottom of Holloway Road next to Highbury Corner. The slightly tired looking shop façade belied the treasures that were held within! A large cutting table in the centre of the shop was surrounded by bolts of cloth piled to the ceiling. Every hue and type of material was to be found although only Aubrey himself knew exactly where!
A small bespectacled man, Aubrey Morris was the archetypal ‘east end’ tailor, if such a thing existed. Assisted by his son, he worked at breakneck speed with a dexterity and eye for detail that was hard to match. He was not shy in telling the world what a good tailor he was and would regale clients with stories of how well known local singers such as Chris Farlowe and The Equals had all been in to get measured for suits.
We tended to take his tales with a pinch of salt but I had the opportunity a couple of years ago to ask Chris Farlowe if he remembered Aubrey and he went off at a tangent describing a ‘wonderful silver grey Tonik suit’ that Aubrey Morris had made for him!
Every item made was a labour of love. All his garments were hand finished with beautiful stitching that was perfection in itself. Suits always required at least two fittings and could take up to a month to completion after initial ‘measuring up’. Prices were not cheap and a standard two ply suit would set you back around twenty five guineas! Small potatoes in comparison to today's marketplace but when one considers that the average wage would be around £15 a week and young teenagers would be getting far less than that, then one can appreciate the cost in real terms.
There was no way of rushing Aubrey. Endless trip to phone boxes in attempts to hurry things along were always in vain.
Then finally the words we had waited to hear – ‘The suit is ready’. The trepidation as we made our way down to Highbury Corner, the approving looks on the faces of friends as the garment was brought down from the rail, and finally the feeling of absolute contentment as the jacket was slipped over your shoulders – a perfect fit!
Who could forget the first time they stepped out wearing their new Tonik suit. The envious looks from our contemporaries and the admiring glances of the young ladies!
‘Fast walking, slow talking, good looking’ – You had better believe it!
copyright: John Leo Waters (13/03/18)
Frank Tepper
I was always very envious of guys with tonik mohair suits as I could never afford one.
Micky Simmonds
Come on Frank you were the richest boy in Highbury. I had mine made in a tailor called Curtis who was based in Pentonville Road. My dad had always used him so I also had my wedding suit made there plus a crombie coat; the suit was a navy blue serge.
Johnny Pearce
Well Frank I never had one either, far too extravagant for me.
Frank Tepper
Mick you’re having a laugh although I used to go to a tailor just off Liverpool Street station. Crombie overcoat you spiv; nothing wrong with cashmere !!!
Paul Lomas
I had a bottle green Mohair suit plus, like you Mick, a Crombie and thought that I was the bees knees on a Saturday night at The Tottenham Royal or going up town to The Lyceum. My dad wanted me to be a rocker as he was into Triumph and Norton motorbikes but the only Triumph I had was a Triumph Herald convertible in light blue which I believe you once owned the same model, Barry.
David Ware
My mohair suit was dark blue, made by the tailors in Upper Street, bottom of Park Street and worn on a Saturday night at the Tottenham Royal. Those were the days with music that people still listen to and enjoy over 50 years later. The Johnny Howard Band were resident there and Rinky Dink was their biggest hit. They had three good singers, Danny Street, Tony Steven and a lady (can't remember her name), who covered the hits of the day. I was lucky (or unlucky) to be there on the Dave Clarke Five last night, what a racket with all those screaming girls. They were followed by a group(?) called The Freemen then by The Migil Five who were all excellent musicians. I remember one night the lights fused but they still carried on with whatever instruments they could use and everyone had a great time.
As we all say the old days were the best.
Tony Alger
Nohair suits for me I am afraid. We used to swap clothes with our neighbours and as I was the eldest I got first pick which were normally the ones with fewer holes in them.
Terry Hayford
Had a blue tonik suit made at Dave Wax along the Upper Street.
Frank Tepper
Anyone remember that little tailor up by the Highbury Corner Billiard Hall? I had a couple of suits and an overcoat made there.
Micky Simmonds
That's the one named in the article Frank; Aubrey Morris.
Barry Page
Nice that you had a fashionable whistle. Mohair was too rich for me, and I just about scraped by with my first made-to-measure two piece pinstripe from John Collier at the Angel. Eighteen quid, and that was stretching the clothing budget.
Later, had some nice J.C. three piece suits.
Gordon Donald
1967, I had double salary paid (Christmas Bonus) and spent thirty two Guineas on an "Iridescent Mohair " suit by Aubrey Morris. It was absolutely magnificent, however my father went ballistic, he was used to £10 suits from Burtons.... I still have the hanger with the plastic Aubrey Morris name plate, unfortunately the suit was long gone by 1970
Keith Morgan
Yes as Paul L. says, I do believe it was "The Window to Watch" quite a flashback. Never had Mohair clobber m’self, a bit too rich for me back in the day. But well remember going up west with Tom Caylor and Chris Bunting to see the first Bond movie ('Dr. No') in 1964 and as soon after that as I could whip up a few quid I was off to JC to get measured for a 'James Bond' suit a la Sean Connery. Late 1965 living in Finchley our neighbour had a Triumph Vitesse which he seemed to be fiddling with just about every weekend. Dad's first car was a 1930 something Triumph Seven. And, here in the States I briefly owned a TR6. Ragtops always gave a bloke a certain advantage with the the lady folk. ;-)
Alan French
I had the same experience with my Dad. I don't blame him whatsoever as his life experience was somewhat deep set from his fore-fathers. When I think of it I find it quite amusing. This experience is also aligned to our taste in music. For me, if my Dad disapproved of my taste in music I always thought I was a winner.
Barry Page
I may not have had the lucre for a mohair suit, but I did possess a mohair sweater. This beauty was all the rage for design - either dark blue with light blue and white stripes, or dark green with light green and white stripes. I had the green version. They were a bugger to wash, tho', as sometimes the colours ran, and the mohair became straggly.
Tam Joseph
Wow takes me back to dem days… but in truth I was like Frank, envious but could not afford. Harry Bilson told me that he worked to pay for hissuit but my parents would not have allowed me to wash cars for a bob - or do a paper round because they thought it was 'low class.”
As far as I can remember the Mods were Bilson, Frank Cuffy and an Asian/Greek looking geezer whose name I forgot and Sealy of course (with Pork pie hat).
I went to the Royal with Gobb called Jenner a very very tall kid 6’6” tall. The Royal was scary place full mean looking older geezers wearing de rigueur blue serge suits and all the wimmin stood in the centre of the floor dancing round their handbags.
Billy Pitt-Jones
Yea but what about AFTER you’d paid the H.P. and didn’t have to put money away each week?
Packing up work on a Friday night and on the way home buying a Van Heusen or Double-Two shirt (looked even better on a man), double cuffed of course, for about fifty bob. A pair of flash cufflinks and another tie (usually knitted).
Kitted up for the weekend.
Alan French
H.P. was the only way for some. My second instrument a Vox Continental Organ was purchased from Selmer's on Charing Cross Road with finance. I traded in my Hohner Pianet for this. I still have a 1972 Pianet which some might say is collectable? At that time Paul Kossoff - 'Free' was selling guitars there. The finance companies owned us if we took it, much like credit cards of the day. I was in a good place with this as not only did I have a full time job, the bands’ residency at The New Crown on New North Road on Friday and Saturday nights paid as much as a week's wages. Luckily for me cash was king, so I could afford to pay cash for my suits at Aubrey Morris Highbury Corner. But you are right about the extras. Whatever happened to tie-dye shirts?
Micky Simmonds
Alan, thought the New Crown was in St Paul's Road. It's now flats. We were always down there on a Friday night; great live groups
Alan French
Sorry for the slip Michael, it's been a long time. We may have been there at the same time? Double Diamond ruled then. The governor was Jim. He had lots of boxing pictures around the bars. That's all I know about him. It was a great venue though. I'm talking 1967/8.
Tam Joseph
I lived in Istanbul for one month in 1968 then headed on the road to India
Alan French
Very ambitious that. Travelling is great as it broadens your outlook on life. Istanbul was just amazing. I was there 1970 working on P&O SS Canberra. There was a curfew back then, lights out at 10pm. That gold bazaar was something else. I got stitched up buying a leather coat which could have been donkey? I mean, when I got back to the ship the coat started to smell bad but I put it down to experience of life and laughed about it. The people were so friendly I couldn't resist buying. I went back a few years ago and sailed along the Bosporus river into the Black Sea. Fantastic sights. I imagine your time in India was revealing.
James Sanderson
Aubrey was my tailor. Nice bloke. Got my first suit made in 1963 and followed it with a couple more over the next two years as I was working in an office. [several offices actually as I got sacked twice] Finally got my first tonik suit around 1966 and a blue, three-piece one for my first wedding in 1969. Funny thing was, got the wedding photos taken by Hamiltons who had a shop in Upper Street and they had a photo of my ex-wife and me in the window for years. Never did get paid for that.
Prompted by Barry Page
I came across the following article on Facebook, and was much impressed by the description. I'm sure it will bring back a few memories for the 'mod' and not so 'mod' among us. Enjoy!
THE MAGIC OF MOHAIR
‘Fast talking, slow walking, good looking – Mohair Sam’
So goes the chorus of a Charlie Rich sixties song ‘Mohair Sam’ which is, in essence, a paean to the Mohair suit .
What is it about wearing a mohair suit that evokes a feeling of absolute sartorial elegance?
Mohair – the very word has an exotic ring to it! To anybody who came of age in the sixties it conjures up a picture of the ultimate in male chic. Of nights in clubs and dancehalls absorbing the latest sounds attired in the iconic symbol of a generation – the mohair suit.
What is mohair? Why did it come to represent the ultimate in sixties chic?
Mohair is made from the hair of the Angora goat. Angora goats evolved originally from Tibet but came to Turkey in the 16th century. The goats were later introduced into USA in the mid nineteenth century. The USA is now the one of the world’s main producer of mohair along with South Africa and Turkey.
As material mohair has been in demand for much longer and there is evidence that the pharaohs of ancient Egypt wore clothing made of mohair. So King Tut was a Mod?!!!
Mohair was introduced to Britain in the 8th century and during the industrial revolution the mills of northern England became the world’s leading exporters of mohair.
The material itself has a wonderful sheen which contributed to its popularity as suit material. Being lightweight, wrinkle and moisture resistant meant that mohair suits were the ideal fashion accoutrement for sixties teenagers who often spent his evenings in sweaty clubs dancing the night away.
It is difficult to determine exactly where and how the mohair suit became de rigueur for a generation of British teenagers. Undoubtedly the wave of ‘cool’ jazz musicians that emerged in the formative years of what became ‘sixties pop culture’ had an influence. Artists such as Charlie Parker, The Modern Jazz Quartet and the ubiquitous Miles Davis were all to be seen sporting mohair suits.
Italian style was an influential factor in the development of the sixties look. Innovative clothing outlets such as Cecil Gee had been championing Italian styled suits since the late fifties. Short ‘bum freezer’ three buttoned jackets and tight trousers often in mohair were a staple of their shop windows.
Many influential US sixties musical heroes such as the Drifters, Otis Redding, The Temptations and Four Tops all appeared in publicity shots clad in mohair. Indeed, almost all the artists emerging from the flourishing Motown record label were clad in mohair.
Whilst by no means an influence on the sixties teenage generation musical tastes it had to be said that even ‘The Rat Pack’ looked pretty ‘cool’ clad in shimmering mohair!
The influence of television should not be underestimated. By the turn of the sixties the ‘box in the corner’ had become a welcome addition to many households. Early American TV series such as ‘Route 66’, ‘77 Sunset Strip’, ‘The Naked City’ and ‘Johnny Staccato’ all featured the heroes decked out in sharp clothes. ‘The Naked City’ and ‘Johnny Staccato’ in particular were relevant to the emerging teenage penchant for the mohair suit.
The Naked City starred Paul Burke as detective Adam Flint. Impeccably dressed with a button down shirt and tie and always wearing a suit, often made of mohair complemented with a narrow brimmed trilby, he cut a fine figure. It is easy to see how fashion conscious young teenagers could relate to the ‘cool looking’ characters.
Johnny Staccato starred John Cassavetes as a jazz pianist come private detective using Waldo’s basement jazz club as his office. The epitome of ‘cool’ Staccato was impeccably turned out and the smoky club with its resident band (featuring such jazz luminaries as Barney Kessel and Shelly Manne) added enormously to the overall ‘feel’. Set in Greenwich Village the club could just as easily have been transposed to Soho in the early sixties. The short lived series was written in part by Stirling Siliphant (now that is a name!!) who went on to do such sterling work in films such as ‘In the Heat of The Night’
Back in the clubs of London’s West End the burgeoning Mod movement wasted no time in noting the advantages of this wonderful new material and soon small bespoke tailors all over the capital were being besieged by young Mods wanting to acquire their own unique suit made from mohair.
Although the ‘mohair suit’ came to be viewed as an item of Mod ‘uniform’, in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Far from being uniform every suit was tailored to the individual in so many different ways.
Every mohair suit was made to precise requirements with regard to styling. The only common ‘thread’ was the material itself (I cannot believe I just used that phrase!).
The style of the jacket was normally fairly uniform in length but in every other respect no two were the same. The number of buttons on the cuff was normally three or four but some individuals opted for five as a mark of individuality. Two, three or four inside pockets were fitted according to taste.
Jacket vents were almost obligatory. The single vent was very popular and lengths varied from six inches up to fourteen inches .The number and type of pockets was very important and normally consisted of two standard pockets and one ticket pocket (two ticket pockets were not uncommon). Pockets were usually slanting and the angle was again a matter of personal choice.
The width of lapels had to be determined. Was a buttonhole required? Even the type of buttons was important. Buttons came in different colours and materials or maybe cloth covered?
And let us not forget the lining! Silk linings were very popular and colours were many and varied. Often in a darker or lighter shade of the material colour but often a complete contrast was used to great effect.
Trouser widths were fairly slim and usually between twelve and fourteen inches and never more than sixteen!
Two waist pleats were fairly common but again very much left to personal taste. Side adjusters were often fitted. A small waist fob pocket was normal sometimes often with a buttoned flap. Rear pockets were usually a standard requirement and again a buttoned flap was quite popular.
The length of the trousers was very important. When standing upright the trousers should just touch the throat of the shoe – just the right length to show enough sock without ‘flapping in the wind’
At various periods small refinements were added to trousers. Stepped bottoms were an option at one point – where the rear sections of the trouser legs were ‘stepped’ down between a half and a full inch. Another variation were small ‘vents’ up to an inch long at the bottom of the seams.
Finally there was the material itself. Mohair came in a variety different mixtures and colours.
Mohair suits were normally available in two or three ply signifying the number of yarns or cloths used to manufacture the material. Mohair was mixed with worsted or polyester to produce a different finish.
Sometimes different coloured yarns were combined to great effect resulting in the ‘two tone’ effect.
Tonik mohair was the piece de resistance.
Tonik was actually a material produced by fine cloth manufacturers Dormeuil.
Founded in Paris in 1842, they specialised in supplying finely woven fabrics sourced globally. In 1926 they centered their operations at Dormeuil House, off Regent St and in 1957 they introduced Tonik to the world. Basically a three ply mixture of mohair, the secret lay in the purity of the raw materials they sourced.
With a reputation for producing ‘the world’s best clothes’ Dormeuil Tonik mohair was the Holy Grail for any discerning young Mod.
The material itself was only half the equation, of course. Just as important was the tailor.
All over the country small corner shop tailors (usually Jewish) were the preferred choice of young Mods in search of perfection.
Although it was possible to have a suit ‘made to measure’ at High Street chain stores such as John Collier and Burtons at a cheaper cost than bespoke, the thought of faceless factory cutters and machinists ‘knocking up’ suits on piecework was no substitute for the loving care afforded by the smaller tailor.
Being born and brought up in Islington, North London we had a plethora of good quality tailors within a stone’s throw. By far the best was Aubrey Morris.
Aubrey Morris had a little shop on a small parade at the bottom of Holloway Road next to Highbury Corner. The slightly tired looking shop façade belied the treasures that were held within! A large cutting table in the centre of the shop was surrounded by bolts of cloth piled to the ceiling. Every hue and type of material was to be found although only Aubrey himself knew exactly where!
A small bespectacled man, Aubrey Morris was the archetypal ‘east end’ tailor, if such a thing existed. Assisted by his son, he worked at breakneck speed with a dexterity and eye for detail that was hard to match. He was not shy in telling the world what a good tailor he was and would regale clients with stories of how well known local singers such as Chris Farlowe and The Equals had all been in to get measured for suits.
We tended to take his tales with a pinch of salt but I had the opportunity a couple of years ago to ask Chris Farlowe if he remembered Aubrey and he went off at a tangent describing a ‘wonderful silver grey Tonik suit’ that Aubrey Morris had made for him!
Every item made was a labour of love. All his garments were hand finished with beautiful stitching that was perfection in itself. Suits always required at least two fittings and could take up to a month to completion after initial ‘measuring up’. Prices were not cheap and a standard two ply suit would set you back around twenty five guineas! Small potatoes in comparison to today's marketplace but when one considers that the average wage would be around £15 a week and young teenagers would be getting far less than that, then one can appreciate the cost in real terms.
There was no way of rushing Aubrey. Endless trip to phone boxes in attempts to hurry things along were always in vain.
Then finally the words we had waited to hear – ‘The suit is ready’. The trepidation as we made our way down to Highbury Corner, the approving looks on the faces of friends as the garment was brought down from the rail, and finally the feeling of absolute contentment as the jacket was slipped over your shoulders – a perfect fit!
Who could forget the first time they stepped out wearing their new Tonik suit. The envious looks from our contemporaries and the admiring glances of the young ladies!
‘Fast walking, slow talking, good looking’ – You had better believe it!
copyright: John Leo Waters (13/03/18)
Frank Tepper
I was always very envious of guys with tonik mohair suits as I could never afford one.
Micky Simmonds
Come on Frank you were the richest boy in Highbury. I had mine made in a tailor called Curtis who was based in Pentonville Road. My dad had always used him so I also had my wedding suit made there plus a crombie coat; the suit was a navy blue serge.
Johnny Pearce
Well Frank I never had one either, far too extravagant for me.
Frank Tepper
Mick you’re having a laugh although I used to go to a tailor just off Liverpool Street station. Crombie overcoat you spiv; nothing wrong with cashmere !!!
Paul Lomas
I had a bottle green Mohair suit plus, like you Mick, a Crombie and thought that I was the bees knees on a Saturday night at The Tottenham Royal or going up town to The Lyceum. My dad wanted me to be a rocker as he was into Triumph and Norton motorbikes but the only Triumph I had was a Triumph Herald convertible in light blue which I believe you once owned the same model, Barry.
David Ware
My mohair suit was dark blue, made by the tailors in Upper Street, bottom of Park Street and worn on a Saturday night at the Tottenham Royal. Those were the days with music that people still listen to and enjoy over 50 years later. The Johnny Howard Band were resident there and Rinky Dink was their biggest hit. They had three good singers, Danny Street, Tony Steven and a lady (can't remember her name), who covered the hits of the day. I was lucky (or unlucky) to be there on the Dave Clarke Five last night, what a racket with all those screaming girls. They were followed by a group(?) called The Freemen then by The Migil Five who were all excellent musicians. I remember one night the lights fused but they still carried on with whatever instruments they could use and everyone had a great time.
As we all say the old days were the best.
Tony Alger
Nohair suits for me I am afraid. We used to swap clothes with our neighbours and as I was the eldest I got first pick which were normally the ones with fewer holes in them.
Terry Hayford
Had a blue tonik suit made at Dave Wax along the Upper Street.
Frank Tepper
Anyone remember that little tailor up by the Highbury Corner Billiard Hall? I had a couple of suits and an overcoat made there.
Micky Simmonds
That's the one named in the article Frank; Aubrey Morris.
Barry Page
Nice that you had a fashionable whistle. Mohair was too rich for me, and I just about scraped by with my first made-to-measure two piece pinstripe from John Collier at the Angel. Eighteen quid, and that was stretching the clothing budget.
Later, had some nice J.C. three piece suits.
Gordon Donald
1967, I had double salary paid (Christmas Bonus) and spent thirty two Guineas on an "Iridescent Mohair " suit by Aubrey Morris. It was absolutely magnificent, however my father went ballistic, he was used to £10 suits from Burtons.... I still have the hanger with the plastic Aubrey Morris name plate, unfortunately the suit was long gone by 1970
Keith Morgan
Yes as Paul L. says, I do believe it was "The Window to Watch" quite a flashback. Never had Mohair clobber m’self, a bit too rich for me back in the day. But well remember going up west with Tom Caylor and Chris Bunting to see the first Bond movie ('Dr. No') in 1964 and as soon after that as I could whip up a few quid I was off to JC to get measured for a 'James Bond' suit a la Sean Connery. Late 1965 living in Finchley our neighbour had a Triumph Vitesse which he seemed to be fiddling with just about every weekend. Dad's first car was a 1930 something Triumph Seven. And, here in the States I briefly owned a TR6. Ragtops always gave a bloke a certain advantage with the the lady folk. ;-)
Alan French
I had the same experience with my Dad. I don't blame him whatsoever as his life experience was somewhat deep set from his fore-fathers. When I think of it I find it quite amusing. This experience is also aligned to our taste in music. For me, if my Dad disapproved of my taste in music I always thought I was a winner.
Barry Page
I may not have had the lucre for a mohair suit, but I did possess a mohair sweater. This beauty was all the rage for design - either dark blue with light blue and white stripes, or dark green with light green and white stripes. I had the green version. They were a bugger to wash, tho', as sometimes the colours ran, and the mohair became straggly.
Tam Joseph
Wow takes me back to dem days… but in truth I was like Frank, envious but could not afford. Harry Bilson told me that he worked to pay for hissuit but my parents would not have allowed me to wash cars for a bob - or do a paper round because they thought it was 'low class.”
As far as I can remember the Mods were Bilson, Frank Cuffy and an Asian/Greek looking geezer whose name I forgot and Sealy of course (with Pork pie hat).
I went to the Royal with Gobb called Jenner a very very tall kid 6’6” tall. The Royal was scary place full mean looking older geezers wearing de rigueur blue serge suits and all the wimmin stood in the centre of the floor dancing round their handbags.
Billy Pitt-Jones
Yea but what about AFTER you’d paid the H.P. and didn’t have to put money away each week?
Packing up work on a Friday night and on the way home buying a Van Heusen or Double-Two shirt (looked even better on a man), double cuffed of course, for about fifty bob. A pair of flash cufflinks and another tie (usually knitted).
Kitted up for the weekend.
Alan French
H.P. was the only way for some. My second instrument a Vox Continental Organ was purchased from Selmer's on Charing Cross Road with finance. I traded in my Hohner Pianet for this. I still have a 1972 Pianet which some might say is collectable? At that time Paul Kossoff - 'Free' was selling guitars there. The finance companies owned us if we took it, much like credit cards of the day. I was in a good place with this as not only did I have a full time job, the bands’ residency at The New Crown on New North Road on Friday and Saturday nights paid as much as a week's wages. Luckily for me cash was king, so I could afford to pay cash for my suits at Aubrey Morris Highbury Corner. But you are right about the extras. Whatever happened to tie-dye shirts?
Micky Simmonds
Alan, thought the New Crown was in St Paul's Road. It's now flats. We were always down there on a Friday night; great live groups
Alan French
Sorry for the slip Michael, it's been a long time. We may have been there at the same time? Double Diamond ruled then. The governor was Jim. He had lots of boxing pictures around the bars. That's all I know about him. It was a great venue though. I'm talking 1967/8.
Tam Joseph
I lived in Istanbul for one month in 1968 then headed on the road to India
Alan French
Very ambitious that. Travelling is great as it broadens your outlook on life. Istanbul was just amazing. I was there 1970 working on P&O SS Canberra. There was a curfew back then, lights out at 10pm. That gold bazaar was something else. I got stitched up buying a leather coat which could have been donkey? I mean, when I got back to the ship the coat started to smell bad but I put it down to experience of life and laughed about it. The people were so friendly I couldn't resist buying. I went back a few years ago and sailed along the Bosporus river into the Black Sea. Fantastic sights. I imagine your time in India was revealing.
James Sanderson
Aubrey was my tailor. Nice bloke. Got my first suit made in 1963 and followed it with a couple more over the next two years as I was working in an office. [several offices actually as I got sacked twice] Finally got my first tonik suit around 1966 and a blue, three-piece one for my first wedding in 1969. Funny thing was, got the wedding photos taken by Hamiltons who had a shop in Upper Street and they had a photo of my ex-wife and me in the window for years. Never did get paid for that.