Venice for the grand passion and the grand manner. Venice for the entrance and the brooding exit. If you've got Byronic humours boiling in your soul, Venice is the place to let them out. For it's one of the few places left where you feel left out if you don't dress up. No sloppy sandals and torn old jeans. A flurry of feathers to float down canals in. Voluminous papal vestments to confess your sins in. Chic trouser-suits to carry out your eccentricities in. The riotous fantasies of Pucci to be wayward in. You can dress to kill and it all adds up to a riotous death in Venice for somebody.
ABOVE: Two-tiered mauve crepe dress with miniature set-in waistband and long pastel pink stole in Ascher Giselle crepe, trimmed with ostrich feathers. Both from Maxine Leighton.
ABOVE: White crepe trouser suit appliqued with daisies, from Femme 90. More ostentatious ostrich feathers on a scarf in white Giselle crepe from Lida Ascher Boutique.
With panache is the way to take fashion and passion in Venice. ABOVE: White cotton pique suit by Bob Schulz, worn with a black cotton Italian skinny polo-necked sweater from Jaeger. The Oliver Goldsmith glasses have one white, one black side. Black and white leather belt with gilt buckle from Galeries Lafayette. Long black and white Gisellle crepe scarf from Lida Ascher Boutique. Black and white twisted bracelets and Vendôme ring with flat black oval onyx, both from Fenwick.
ABOVE: grand fantasy. Venetian Cowboy in white crepon shirt and black trousers by Londonus. Side fastening black leather ankle-boots by Moya at MB shoes. White sunglasses slung over belt, by Oliver Goldsmith. Dicey black and white silk scarf from Fenwick. Black sombrero from Lida Ascher Boutique.
All images and original text scanned by Sweet Jane from The Sixties in Queen published by Ebury Press, the article was first published in Queen Magazine August 1966, photographs by Helmut Newton.