My obsession with the haberdashery of the Rolling Stones continues, girl-style. Say hello to fashion icon and IT GIRL Anita Pallenberg, running mate of not one but THREE Rolling Stones.
As you scroll down these pictures its hard not to notice how much influence she has had on fashion, even now. This woman knows how to dress. Enjoy.
A side of Anita Pallenberg I’d never seen before. Pretty, but a little too ordinary for Ms. Pallenberg. She has yet to admit to herself and the world the powerhouse she is about to become.
She looks more Brian Jones than Brian Jones. What is she holding? Good heavens, is she hunting?
WTF? I mean, WTF? Nice Robin Hood gear, Stash. Or is he going for more of a Peter Pan thing? Whatever the signifier, he could have gained entry into any Renaissance Faire worldwide. Brian? I’m ambivalent. Thoughts?
The kind of dress that if she got it at Marks and Spencer—ho-hum, but if she got it at Biba? Fabulous. Today, if this dress appeared as “vintage” Biba on sale at Decades for $2500, could one wear the Marks and Spencer with a sartorial wink wink? I don’t know, ask Laia Garcia at Lenny, she’s very astute when it comes to things like this.
“Why Anita, what a lovely frock. Got it in Kabul, did you? Now why in the world would anyone want to go to Kabul? Morocco, maybe, but Afghanistan?”
Classic French Twist. Lovely. Now as far as Keith goes, maybe he’s been spending too much time with Gram Parsons? Yes, I know the timing is probably wrong, I’m just trying to make a point here.
She’s reading TIN TIN! We love you, Anita! That outfit! Chic in its utter simplicity. Like a rock & roll Jackie O. during her Capri period. This outfit– without the belt— was my staple around the summer of 1995. Betsey Johnson shorts, tight tee, tights and velvet platform shoes–all black. Was this the outfit the Hound followed me around in, pre-courtship? No, that was those tattered jeans shorts with the red velvet and black leather patches Janice Johnson gave me, the ones that Natalie Portman and her Dad snickered at when we rode the elevator together at the Chateau Marmont in the summer of 1998. Screw them! Marlon, what were you holding? A tarantula? Please advise.
Wow. Anita has got the simplicity thing down. Perfect length chain to show off perfect cleavage. The guy in the background— Freddie Sessler? Or Stash Klossowski? I tend to think the latter.
Rare to see Anita in an up-do. Looks like she slept in it, which results in the best kind of up-do–the second day up-do. I wear my hair like this a lot. You put it in a scrunchie on the top of your head hoping to preserve your blow-dry, but when you wake up looking like this, the scrunchie stays in. Basically, as far as hair goes, I groove with whatever hairstyle I wake up with. Michael des Barres says that is very healthy.
Perhaps this is her just-threw-this-on-to-pick-up-Marlon-at-school look. Marlon, did you even go to school? I’m not questioning your intelligence, I’m just thinking it might have been difficult with your parents itinerant lifestyle. Please advise.
Oh my land. You can’t get more beautiful than this. PERFECT bangs, which as i said in my Marianne Faithfulpiece, only last about forty-eight hours, so quick, get Richard Avedon on the phone, and make it snappy.
Anita does Joni Mitchell better than Joni Mitchell. Cute sunglasses, Marlon. Prescription?
I’m getting a little concerned. Get some bangers and mash in this girl! Kinda Chanel-gypsy-harem-bondage-bond girl-carnaby street mode-podge of signifiers. Notice i use that word “signifier” a lot? M.A. in Literature, N.Y.U., 1990. Major in post-modern fiction, minor in semiotics.
Affair with a boy-toy squatting-in-Brixton period. Met him through Marianne. Or was it Nico?
“Anita, would you get the hell in? We’re on Avenue C for god sakes!”
“Shut up, Richard, this young bloke wants to take my picture and we’ve got nothing to worry it, anyway. Bobbies can’t search limos without a search warrant–they’re considered private property! Jesus, are you stupid?”
Last but not least, time to address Anita’s iconic hairstyle. On anyone else you’d think, librarian, or perhaps an ice skater. Not on Anita. She knows when you’ve got a face like hers, tresses splayed on a satin pillow are merely a distraction.