The Captain in Paris

If one wanted to be impeccably dressed in Paris in the 1930’s there was no other couturier to patronise other than the Captain. Captain Edward Molyneux an Irishman of Huguenot ancestry was the last word in chic in Paris during the 1930’s. More conservative than Schiaparelli and in a different class entirely from Chanel, he was the one whom fashionable women turned to, when she wanted to be absolutely “right”. Everyone from royalty to the stage appreciated Molyneux’s sureness of line and gifted insight into chic.

Born in 1891, he won a contest sponsored by Lady Duff Gordon (The dressmaker Lucille and also a passenger on the Titanic) for a sketch of an evening gown. Wounded during World War 1, losing an eye, he opened a salon in Paris in 1918.

*With Madame Lanvin

With Lady Diana Cooper

Right from the beginning his simplicity of style and perfect taste was evident. Molyneux was known for conservative clothes but they were never staid or matronly. His typical customer was tall, thin and intelligent, and usually in her late twenties or thirties. He soon became known for his "never too rich or too thin" ideal and "refined at the edge of outrageous" look, frowning on superfluous decoration. Going on to dress European royalty like Princess Marina of Greece and Denmark, British high society, actresses Greta Garbo, Gertrude Lawrence, Margaret Leighton, and Vivien Leigh, and interior decorator Syrie Maugham.

In The 30's the pure Molyneux look fully emerged. His streamlined backless white satin evening dresses with silver-fox furs thrown over the shoulder became the symbol of 30's elegance. He was best known for his wonderful handling of navy blue and black. His designs had ‘a thoroughly British upper-class restraint.’

Like most other couturiers he diversified into perfumes launching “Le Numero Cinq” (No 5) as his premier perfume. There are two mutually exclusive stories about Numéro Cinq. Apparently Molyneux had befriended Chanel, and together they hatched the idea of each bringing out a perfume called No 5 on the same day in 1921, to see whose perfume would be more popular. The outcome of that contest is no longer in doubt, but this version of the story says that Molyneux’ Cinq was far ahead of Chanel’s for several years. The other (recorded in Nigel Groom’s excellent Perfume Handbook) is that Molyneux brought out several perfumes at once in 1925 named after different addresses of the firm: 3, 14 and Numéro Cinq. Molyneux’s Numero Cinq was also referred to as “Le Parfum Connu” (The Known Perfume) to avoid troubles with Chanel. Either way, fashion designers clearly had more of a sense of humour then than now. Funny thing is both Chanel’s No 5 and Molyneux’s No 5 were in eerily similar bottles, so there could be some credence in the story related above.

He dressed the most elegant women right up to the outbreak of World War II and escaped from Paris to London in 1940.

During World War II, he operated out of London for the duration of the conflict and returned to Paris in 1946. However his health was not the same particularly his eyesight began to fail, so in 1950 he closed his Paris and London establishments and retired to Jamaica. In 1965 he came out of retirement and collaborated with his nephew to open “Studio Molyneux”, a high quality ready-to-wear line that received mixed reviews. He retired again in 1969, but Studio Molyneux continued under the direction of his cousin John Tullis until it closed in 1977.He died in 1974 at the age of 83.

The Captain as he was known as also collected an extensive Impressionist art collection, including paintings by Picasso, Monet, Manet and 17 Renoirs. They were sold as a 'lot' to Ailsa Mellon Bruce, who bestowed the entire collection upon the National Gallery of Art.

Time magazine described him as "the Parisian equivalent of Manhattan’s Mainbocher, a classicist devoted to the soft look and tailored line."

Savoir Faire in the Salle a Manger

For a sheer sense of scale and luxe nothing could even beat or even come close to the 1st class salle a manger aboard the French line’s Normandie of the 1930’s. Mind you we will never see the likes of such a room again in the future either on land or at sea. This was a temple of gastronomy where the elite of the day took their meals, which by the amount of items offered on the menu, could have seen them dining for hours on end.

Normandie was a showcase of the very best that France had to offer, naturally done completely in fantastic Art Deco-style. Thanks to the split funnel uptakes, the Normandie’s interiors were matched by no other ship. The interiors of the liner with filled with grand perspectives, spectacular entryways, and long, wide staircases.

Entering through the embarkation hall prospective diners entered through 20-foot tall doors adorned with bronze medallions by artist Raymond Subes. I am sure that when one found one’s self at the top of the staircase leading into the First Class salle a manger for the first time your heart would have skipped a beat. After being announced by a bellboy attired in traditional French Line red livery you would have descended this grand staircase hoping that all were watching.

Ensconced by giant bas reliefs on each side of the entrance, you had to run the gauntlet under close scrutiny past the most sought after tables in the whole room into the main salle a manger.

Just on 200 tables and chairs were set in a shimmering, glittering temple of Savoir Faire. Illuminated by master glass craftsman Lalique, 12 tall pillars of Lalique glass were flanked by 38 matching columns along the walls of hammered glass panels. When illuminated from within the room took on an unparrelld glow. These with chandeliers hung at each end of the room gave the room a sparkling atmosphere which earned the Normandie the nickname "Ship of Light”.

Continually touted as being longer than the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles the room rose 28 feet above the diner’s heads to cumulate in a coffered ceiling covered in gold leaf. Presiding over the far end of the room was “La Paix” a gilded bronze statue by Dejean, of a toga clad woman.

Combined with lighting, the shimmer of the ceilings and walls and the dazzling jewelry and haute couture of the day, this must have been a sight, which makes dining on Cunard’s latest incarnation of the Queen Mary seem like MacDonald’s.

On Ruhlman inspired furniture diners then spent several hours dining on menus that were continually noted for being some of the finest examples of French cuisine on the Atlantic.

No matter what class you were travelling in whether it be first or third, Lalique, Christofle and Sevres was the dinnerware of choice by the French line.

Just because you were travelling in 2nd class or tourist didn’t mean that you were left out. 2nd class diners somehow had to manage in the below room, with meals austerely limited to 6 or seven courses.

Now the Holy Grail of ship buffs (my self included) the Normandie and especially the salle a manger was such stuff as dreams are made on. Tragically after several years of service while being fitted out as a troop transport in New York during World War II she caught fire and was a total wreck, only to be sold for scrap metal.

Whatever Happened to?

For someone who was one of the top models of the 1950’s and who had a high profile marriage and affair it is surprising that so little information seems to be available on Fiona Campbell-Walter before and even after she achieved her fame. Lots of photographs out there, but as to the lady herself; nothing. Invariably when doing research all I came up with the names of the famous, titled and wealthy men she was associated with.


Born Fiona Frances Elaine Campbell-Walter in New Zealand in 1932, she was at the top of her game in the 1950’s as one of the most popular models of her day. Some of the photos of her modelling are some of the most recognised for the era. Unlike Bronwen Pugh who modelled exclusively for Balmain she modelled for a plethora of designers such as Balenciaga, Schiaparelli and Fath.

In Schiaparelli

Royal photographer Cecil Beaton claimed her as his favourite model, and she regularly graced the cover of glossy magazines such as Vogue, earning 2000 Pounds a day, considered a fortune in the mid-50s.

In Balenciaga

One photographer said of her: "She was so young then the make-up wouldn't stay on her face. Her skin wouldn't support make-up; she was so fresh and beautiful, with that marvellous profile and great allure."

In 1957, after an engagement that lasted just 12 hours she married the Swiss billionaire Baron Hans Heinrich von Thyssen Bornemisza, who even at this stage was amassing one of the greatest private art collections the world has ever seen. He also being one of the world's richest and most sought-after playboys, it seemed a match made in heaven.

Theirs was a glamorous life as can be seen by the photos of the Baroness languishing underneath a fur blanket while in the Swiss Alps.

Life was hard for the ex-model who now “as a housewife she sees that the pictures on the wall hang straight as they should in a great collection of art”

Their daughter Francesca married Karl Habsburg-Lothringen heir to the headship of the House of Habsburg-Lorraine.

Fiona and her husband divorced 1965, and she went on to have a well-publicized relationship with Greek shipping heir Alexander Onassis, the only son of Aristotle Onassis, who died in 1973 aged 25 in a plane crash. She was 16 years his senior and of whom his father strongly disapproved. It is believed now that Onassis had intentions of marrying her despite his father's energetic attempts to break them up.

After this highly publicized affair she is now completely off the radar, as it seemed that after her divorce from the Baron it was the beginning of this raven-haired beauty’s fall from grace. With the Baron’s death there was a scrabble by family, numerous ex wives and governments for the art collection, but as to Fiona, well …………

Work Wear Monday

I have been finding lately that people really when they are going to work just throw on anything and kind of hope for the best. When I first started my working life a suit and tie were always de rigueur for men and women hardly ever wore trousers let alone jeans to work no matter what position you occupied in your relative company. (Showing my age here).

I had always heard the maxim “That you should always dress for the job you would like to have” and I still subscribe to this, to a certain degree. However these days I am not sure whether this is apt in a lot of work places. There are all sorts of things to take into place. I work in a pretty casual environment due to the nature of the organisation (Social Service organisation dealing with People with Developmental Disabilities). I am an Executive Assistant to three Vice Presidents and they all have their own particular style from jeans to smart casual. I try and set an example befitting of my position to find a common ground amongst these different styles.

Currently I am drawing inspiration from below (all from Smalto), minus the scarf for my work wear, even though I do like the pop of colour that the scarf brings. What do you think?