The classic photograph of Jean Shrimpton at Flemington on Derby Day in 1965 shows a fresh-faced young woman, her hair loose and flowing in the breeze. In a sleeveless white minidress, its hemline hovering four inches above the knee, the 22-year-old British supermodel looks the picture of 1960s elegance and simplicity, carefree and independent with no stockings, no gloves and no hat.
This iconic image of Shrimpton captures a watershed moment in Australian fashion, highlighting the rapid changes taking place in the ‘60s. Far away from such fashion capitals as London and Paris, Australia had never seen such a daringly short skirt, and Shrimpton’s faux pas made international headlines. This, as Shrimpton observes in her memoirs, “was how the mini was born”.
With her classic, doll-like features, fashion magazines regularly proclaimed Shrimpton ‘the most beautiful girl in the world’. She was one of the most recognisable faces of Swinging London, and the centre of a trio of supermodels that included Twiggy and Veruschka. In 1965, she was the highest-paid model in the world, and her appearance at Flemington as a judge of Fashions on the Field would bring international glamour and prestige to the event.
When she arrived in Australia for her two-week promotional visit, Shrimpton was utterly unaware of the scandal she would soon cause. As she recalls in her memoirs, DuPont International had sent her lengths of their newly popular fabric, Orlon, to have some “smart, race-going outfits” made up from. She enlisted the dressmaker Colin Rolfe to have her designs made, only they soon discovered a problem – there was not quite enough fabric. Still, Shrimpton was unconcerned, and told Rolfe, “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Make them a bit shorter – no one’s going to notice.”
Shrimpton was oblivious to the requisite accessories at Flemington – stockings, hat and gloves – and, as the morning of Derby Day was quite warm, she simply slipped on some low-heeled slingback shoes and an ankle chain and was ready to go. “I had no hat or gloves with me, for the very good reason that I owned neither,” she recalls. “I went downstairs cheerfully from my hotel room, all regardless of what was to come.”
Almost immediately upon her arrival, she realised her mistake. There was tut-tutting all over the racecourse, and reporters clamoured to get a photograph. “I was surrounded by cameramen, all on their knees like proposing Victorian swains, shooting upwards to make my skirt look even shorter,” Shrimpton wrote. “This was publicity that I certainly had not planned.”