In the late 70's I was a Mod. The options available to my age group were, at that time, quite limited.
There were, in addition to my chosen clique, followers of Rock, Punks , New Romantics and then the rest, usually the forerunner of what are now referred to as Geeks although yet to be provided with computers and IT worth admitting to beyond a Sinclair Spectrum.
I did like some of the mainstream rock and the up and coming wave of British Heavy Metal. Punk was still hanging on from 1977 and was still vibrant and exciting. New Romantics were just a bit too girlie for my liking.
The main catalyst to following the mod scene was the availability of an old suit which I found in my Fathers wardrobe. It was a very ancient thing. Faded to light grey from a slightly darker grey. A bit shiny on the lapels, worn in the seat and with holes in the softer cloth linings of the pockets. It was also huge on me, not that my Father was at all larged framed but because I was for the first time in my life, skinny.
The outsized look was however well ahead of its time but I can take no credit for its later emergence as a fashion statement by The Talking Heads. The jacket swamped me and I had , in a rather OCD way,to keep tugging up the sleeves so that they did not make me look as though my hands had been severed.
As for the trousers they resembled a cross between jodphurs and those rather comic winged examples favoured by Mussolini and other dictators. The original tailoring will have wandered in and out of being in fashion on a regular cycle from the late 1950's and early 60's. I am not really sure if it was actually a new purchase by my Father or of a second hand, charity or inherited status to kit him out for his early working years. I do not actually recall Father ever wearing any suit other than a black, formal business number.
The only alteration I had done was a tapering of the trouser legs to eliminate flap and wind drag. I was just trying to follow the trend of skinny leg jeans in which you had to sit in the bath to get a tight shrink fit. The definitive and authentic Mod suit just needed some accessories and shoes to complete the look. Again the wardrobe was a rich seam for such things. I made use of some black thin braces to hold up the still baggy trousers. They had previously graced Fathers best dress suit for attending formal dinners and presentations.
The shirt was a choice between a collarless one to give a casual stylish look or a very sharp and stiff collar to go with a thin black tie. These things were from the section of the wardrobe of clothes worn to funerals.
The final item was a pair of suitable shoes. These were very uncomfortable being about two sizes too small but that was a small sacrifice to acheive the pointy toe style of a real pair of Jam shoes. A real pair of winkle pickers.
In fact, the only thing that came from my own collection of clothes was a pair of grubby, off white and holey socks. They were a bit of a let down.
There were, in addition to my chosen clique, followers of Rock, Punks , New Romantics and then the rest, usually the forerunner of what are now referred to as Geeks although yet to be provided with computers and IT worth admitting to beyond a Sinclair Spectrum.
I did like some of the mainstream rock and the up and coming wave of British Heavy Metal. Punk was still hanging on from 1977 and was still vibrant and exciting. New Romantics were just a bit too girlie for my liking.
The main catalyst to following the mod scene was the availability of an old suit which I found in my Fathers wardrobe. It was a very ancient thing. Faded to light grey from a slightly darker grey. A bit shiny on the lapels, worn in the seat and with holes in the softer cloth linings of the pockets. It was also huge on me, not that my Father was at all larged framed but because I was for the first time in my life, skinny.
The outsized look was however well ahead of its time but I can take no credit for its later emergence as a fashion statement by The Talking Heads. The jacket swamped me and I had , in a rather OCD way,to keep tugging up the sleeves so that they did not make me look as though my hands had been severed.
As for the trousers they resembled a cross between jodphurs and those rather comic winged examples favoured by Mussolini and other dictators. The original tailoring will have wandered in and out of being in fashion on a regular cycle from the late 1950's and early 60's. I am not really sure if it was actually a new purchase by my Father or of a second hand, charity or inherited status to kit him out for his early working years. I do not actually recall Father ever wearing any suit other than a black, formal business number.
The only alteration I had done was a tapering of the trouser legs to eliminate flap and wind drag. I was just trying to follow the trend of skinny leg jeans in which you had to sit in the bath to get a tight shrink fit. The definitive and authentic Mod suit just needed some accessories and shoes to complete the look. Again the wardrobe was a rich seam for such things. I made use of some black thin braces to hold up the still baggy trousers. They had previously graced Fathers best dress suit for attending formal dinners and presentations.
The shirt was a choice between a collarless one to give a casual stylish look or a very sharp and stiff collar to go with a thin black tie. These things were from the section of the wardrobe of clothes worn to funerals.
The final item was a pair of suitable shoes. These were very uncomfortable being about two sizes too small but that was a small sacrifice to acheive the pointy toe style of a real pair of Jam shoes. A real pair of winkle pickers.
In fact, the only thing that came from my own collection of clothes was a pair of grubby, off white and holey socks. They were a bit of a let down.
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