Agent Provocateur

1st August 2006

If you love Agent Provocateur underwear it's safe to say that you probably also adore the 1940s and 1950s glamour girl look. And no pin-up girl was more glamorous, nobody's look more copied, than jet-haired, full-figured Bettie Page (the girl who launched a thousand fringes). So it's good news for all we would-be sirens that the best chick-flick of the summer is The Notorious Betty Page, a biopic of the model. Just as Sex in the City concerned itself as much with frocks as fucking, so The Notorious Betty Page is as much about underwear as the pin-up circuit's underbelly.

Gretchen Moll, who plays the title role with a Oscar-worthy blend of innocence and exuberance, is seen in an arresting variety of lingerie, bondage gear, bikinis and tight sweaters. That's when she's not running around starkers. The film is a witty period piece (mostly shot in black and white) that follows the girl from Hicksville through a deadbeat marriage, drama school and a variety of seedy photographic studios to the pinnacle of cheesecake fame - until she finds herself hauled in front of a Senate hearing, decried for helping to pervert public decency. Then she finds God. Luckily God only features for a millisecond.

The film's triumph is to show the fact Bettie has no sense of shame about nudity or S&M is ironically her best protection against perverts. Even when trussed like a chicken for men with "special tastes", there's something gloriously wholesome about Page. It's only when a lizard-eyed Senator persuades her that "pornographic" poses lead to teenage suicide that she is forced, belatedly, to acquiesce with the repressed sexual mores of the time. I demand that you go and round up a gang of girlfriends to go and see this gorgeous-looking, funny, subtle film. Gretchen Moll's wiggle alone makes it worth your while. There's also a splendidly debauched cameo from Jared Harris as the most disreputable photographer ever to talk filth to a bound and gagged model. Proof, if we need it, that nobody does dirty and disreputable like a British actor. Oh, and Agent Provocateur are helping promote the film's UK launch, which means you have an excellent excuse to go and buy some of their finest retro undies for a truly interactive cinema outing. Think I'm kidding? In July Cambridge (my home town) hosted the UK premiere The Notorious Bettie Page at its highly-regarded film festival. I introduced the evening in a 1950s satin prom dress and around a quarter of the audience were dressed as rockerbillies and sweater-girls, with the kind of torpedo bosoms that suggested discerning taste in underpinnings.

The continuing influence of Bettie Page is evident in the current burlesque revival. Dita von Teese's look is an obvious homage and Britain's leading burlesque performer, Immodesty Blaize, also cites Page as a major influence. Although Blaize's exotic looks and cat-like eyes owe more to Ava Gardner than our Bettie. Her figure is more statuesque than either: nearly six foot with the voluptuous curves of Jayne Mansfield. As you can see, I've been studying Immodesty Blaize in some detail. That's because we were both recently staying in the same house party while appearing at Cornwall's Port Eliot Literary Festival (an electrifying book event where show-girls, punk poetesses, rock musicians, artists and explorers rub shoulders with novelists and biographers). It was worth the whole trip just to hear these words uttered over breakfast by Blaize's companion: "At the time she was the only girl who could nipple-tassel in London." How I wish I could have this epitaph on my grave. I interviewed the burlesque star onstage after she had graced the weekend gathering with her famous reverse strip and rocking horse routines. What was fascinating was finding out how much work goes into one 15-minute routine. She'll spend around three months devising a new act. There has to be the all-essential gimmick (such as the 8-foot rocking horse covered in diamante and custom-made by a sculptor), choreography and music, which she mixes herself. Then there's her team of costumiers, who include a bespoke corset-maker and a nipple-tassel artiste. Her mentor is an old hoofer called Basil who once worked for Liberace and remembers every nuance of the moves made by 1950s striptease artists. It's no wonder her act is so stupendous. "I want to burn my image onto your retinas forever," says Blaize. Something she easily achieves. I will never forget the sight of her strong white thighs gripping her oversized black toy horse as her generous but pert bosom (pasties covering nipples) jutted into the spotlight. And what's the secret of seduction? According to Miss Immodesty Blaize, "It's all in the eyes." How right she is. That and a delectable array of undergarments.