The Store P337 Starfish Hairclip: A Collector’s Guide to a Mid-Century British Oddity

Among the quieter corners of mid-century British hair accessory design, the starfish clip occupies a peculiar and delightful niche. It is neither a barrette that clamps with brute force nor a delicate slide that whispers into the hair—it is a sculptural creature, pinned to the head as if it had just drifted in from the tide. The store P337 starfish hairclip, a piece that surfaces in small numbers at vintage fairs and online auctions, rewards the collector who understands its construction, its material quirks, and the social context that made it desirable.

Before we examine the clip itself, it helps to know why starfish motifs appeared in British jewellery and hair accessories at all. The late 1940s through the 1960s saw a fascination with marine life that went beyond the seaside holiday. Designers drew on natural forms—leaves, flowers, shells—as a reaction against the austerity of war. A starfish, with its five symmetrical arms and textured surface, offered a perfect canvas for metal casting and enamel work. It was modern without being abstract, organic without being rustic. The P337 belongs squarely in this tradition, yet its specific details set it apart from the generic shell clips that flooded the market in the 1950s.

Distinguishing the Store P337 from Other Starfish Clips

Not all starfish hairclips are created equal. The P337 is characterised by a die-cast zinc alloy base, which gives it a satisfying weight—neither flimsy nor heavy enough to pull on fine hair. The surface is finished in a soft silver-gilt plate, often with a light patina that collectors prize. What makes the P337 immediately recognisable, however, is the arrangement of its five arms: they are not perfectly symmetrical. The upper arm is slightly longer than the lateral ones, and the lower two arms curve inward just enough to cradle the back of the head. This asymmetry was intentional, designed to follow the natural contour of a mid-century bouffant or a side-swept chignon.

The clip mechanism itself is a spring-loaded alligator clip, common in the 1950s and 1960s, but the P337 version uses a narrower gauge spring than most. This means it grips firmly without crushing the hair shaft—a small mercy for anyone who has wrestled with a vintage clip that leaves a dent. The spring is housed in a small brass barrel, visible only when the clip is open. Over time, these springs can lose tension, but they are straightforward to replace if you have the right tools and a steady hand.

Materials and Techniques: What to Look For

The P337 exemplifies mid-century British costume jewellery techniques at their most competent. The base metal is a zinc alloy, often called white metal in period catalogues. It was chosen for its ability to hold fine detail in the casting process. The starfish’s surface is textured with tiny nodules that mimic the animal’s natural tubercles—a detail that is often worn smooth on later reproductions. On an authentic P337, you can feel these nodules with your fingertip; they are raised, not painted on.

The plating is a silver-gilt finish, which means a thin layer of silver over a gold-toned underplate. This gives the clip a warm, slightly champagne-coloured gleam rather than the cold white of pure silver. Over decades, the silver can wear away on the high points—the tips of the arms and the centre dome—revealing the golden underlayer. Many collectors consider this wear desirable, as it adds depth and a sense of age. If you see a P337 with uniform bright silver, it has either been stored untouched in a box or, more rarely, re-plated.

A word on hallmarks: the P337 was not assayed, because it is costume jewellery. However, many examples carry a stamped maker’s mark on the back of the clip barrel. The most common is a tiny diamond shape containing the letters “MA” for Maison Archives, though other manufacturers supplied similar designs under contract for department stores. The absence of a mark does not automatically mean a piece is inauthentic; some were sold unbranded through small boutiques. The better indicator is the quality of the casting and the spring tension.

Styling the P337 with a Modern Wardrobe

The starfish clip can feel theatrical if worn without thought, but it integrates surprisingly well into contemporary British style. The key is to treat it as a single statement piece, not part of a full maritime costume. A P337 clipped at the nape of the neck anchors a low ponytail or a loose bun with a quiet, sculptural presence. For shorter hair, it works as a side clip, pinning back a section above the ear. The silver-gilt finish complements both warm and cool tones—try it with a cream cashmere jumper and dark denim for a look that nods to the 1950s without being a reproduction.

One practical note: the clip’s five arms create quite a wide silhouette. On fine or thin hair, it can overwhelm the head. In that case, position it off-centre, closer to the ear, so that only three arms are fully visible. The remaining two arms tuck behind the hairline, giving the illusion of a smaller, more delicate piece. This trick was used by 1960s hairdressers who wanted the starfish to look like it was crawling through the hair—a whimsical effect that still works today.

Bereavement, Care, and Common Pitfalls

Owning a vintage metal clip means accepting that it requires more care than a modern plastic one. The P337’s plated surface is vulnerable to moisture, perfume, and hairspray. Over time, these substances can cause the plating to lift or develop green corrosion on the base metal. To prevent this, wipe the clip with a soft, dry cloth after each wear. If you use hair products, let them dry completely before inserting the clip. Never submerge a P337 in water or cleaning solution; the spring barrel can trap liquid and rust from the inside.

For light tarnish, a gentle polish with a silver cloth (the type impregnated with anti-tarnish agents) works well. Avoid liquid silver dips, as they can strip the gold underlayer. If the clip becomes sticky or sluggish, a single drop of sewing machine oil on the spring hinge—applied with a toothpick—will restore smooth movement. Let the oil penetrate for an hour, then wipe away any excess.

Storage matters more than most collectors realise. The P337 should be kept flat in a lined box or wrapped in acid-free tissue. Do not hang it by the clip, as the weight can stretch the spring over months. If you have multiple vintage clips, separate them with tissue to prevent metal-on-metal scratching. A dedicated compartment in a jewellery tray is ideal.

Where to Find the P337 and How to Evaluate Condition

The store P337 starfish hairclip appears most frequently at British vintage fairs, online marketplaces, and estate sales. Prices vary widely depending on condition and whether the original packaging is present. A clip in good wearable condition—spring intact, plating with moderate wear, no dents—typically sells for £25–£45. A mint example with its original card or box can fetch £60–£80. Be cautious of clips advertised as “new old stock” that show no patina at all; they may be modern reproductions using the same moulds. Authentic NOS pieces usually have a faint musty smell from decades in storage and a slight dullness to the plating that no reproduction has yet matched.

When inspecting a P337 in person, check three things: the spring tension (open and close it a few times; it should snap back cleanly), the plating on the tips of the arms (these wear first), and the back of the clip for any cracks in the metal. Cracks around the hinge area are not repairable without specialised welding, and even then the clip may never hold hair securely again. If the spring is weak but the metal is sound, it is a worthwhile purchase; a jeweller can replace the spring for a modest fee.

For those who wish to build a collection of mid-century hair accessories, the P337 pairs naturally with other pieces from the same period. The geometric precision of a C38 Judy Andrews hair clip—a post-war British treasure in its own right—offers a deliberate contrast to the organic starfish form. Together, they illustrate the range of design thinking that defined British accessory making in the 1950s: one rigorous and structured, the other fluid and naturalistic. A collector who understands both is well on the way to curating a meaningful, historically coherent set.

Quick Reference: Store P337 Starfish Hairclip

Feature	Detail
Period	Late 1950s–early 1960s
Base metal	Zinc alloy (white metal)
Finish	Silver-gilt plate
Clip type	Alligator clip, brass spring barrel
Markings	Occasional “MA” diamond stamp; many unmarked
Typical price	£25–£80 depending on condition
Care notes	Dry cloth only; avoid water, perfume, hairspray

The P337 starfish hairclip is not the most famous mid-century accessory, nor the most valuable. But it is a piece that rewards close looking—the asymmetry of its arms, the warmth of its plating, the quiet cleverness of its spring. For the collector who values design intelligence over flash, it is a small, enduring pleasure.