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Even if it meant living for the rest of the term on chips, buns and 10 horrible Players No 6 a day, the clothes were so irresistible that I simply had to have some.
It is often forgotten that for small, slight, women Biba clothes were a particular god-send at that time.
Lipstick was deep mulberry or pale lilac worn in the manner of Clara Bow, and all topped off by gallons of that distinctive Biba vanilla-pod pong.At the start of a week I took special care to lash on ounces of all this stuff before sitting in adoration before my wonderful tutor, Dr Arnold Kettle.What this high-minded family man made of these waftings from the casbah at nine-o'clock on a Monday morning when he was trying to discuss 'the rise of the novel' I now blush to think.From all over Britain, Biba clothes, make-up, scent, shoes and feather boas poured in from staid-sounding married women still proud to be called Biba Birds.As if they were uncovering old expeditionary foodstuffs in the Antarctic, men even contributed unopened tins of black- labelled Biba soup and baked beans.
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The Biba colours seemed wonderful too - bitter chocolate and cream, murky pinks, duck-egg and assorted grege.