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Unbecoming Behavior for a Young Lady

Unbecoming Behavior for a Young Lady


Sam Heatherley


Copyright 2012 by Sam Heatherley


Smashwords Edition



In the early seventies while working for an editorial company in the States, I was truly fortunate to land a job as a fashion correspondent. This introduced me to some of the foremost fashion houses of the time in the UK. I was then at first hand to keep tabs on the latest fashions as they developed in Little Ol’ England and report back to my editor in the States.


I had been chosen, because I was the most suited for the task. I’d just turned 23, so I suppose the right sort of age, was an attractive young woman, had just become single again and was already writing magazine articles on fashion Stateside, so I knew a fair bit about the business. I’d also screwed my middle aged editor, so that helped. Hey, this was the 1970’s, I was ambitious and wanted promotion, so why not?


This era, for me and for many others who were involved in fashion, was a fabulous period. The sixties had been ground breaking in so many areas, such as music with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, photography with David Bailey and Lord Lichfield, fashion with Vivienne Westwood and Laura Ashley, science with man’s accomplishments in outer space, especially landing on the Moon in ‘69. There were just so many. Of course there were downsides such as the Vietnam War, which still dragged on into this decade, but all in all the Swinging Sixties was a hard act to follow.


But the seventies did its damned best to surpass the earlier decade. Fashion in particular and later, the revolution seen in music with the punk movement. At that time, as a very attractive twenty something, I was spoilt rotten as far as men went. I could get my way with anything if I wanted. And I frequently did. My move to London meant that I’d lost my first really serious boyfriend of the time, Sean. Not so bad as I'd found out he’d been fucking around and was becoming a real pain. I'd met Sean at a Stones concert in New York. He descended from an Irish line (I think his grandfather was from Dublin) and with his more than handsome appearance and oh so charming Irish manner, unfortunately, as I sadly found out, I was not the only one attracted to him.

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