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The P512 Moon Hairclip: A Collector’s Guide to a Mid-Century British Treasure

Among the quiet treasures of mid-century British hair accessories, the Store P512 Moon Hairclip holds a particular charm. Named for its gentle crescent silhouette, this clip emerged during the late 1950s and early 1960s, a period when millinery techniques were being translated into smaller, everyday ornaments. Unlike the bold, sculptural clips of the 1980s or the delicate Edwardian combs, the P512 occupies a middle ground: substantial enough to hold a section of hair securely, yet light and graceful in appearance. Its design speaks to a moment when British women sought accessories that were both practical and quietly poetic.

Origins and Design Context

The P512 Moon Hairclip was produced by a small London-based workshop that specialised in cellulose acetate and tortoiseshell-effect pieces. The "P512" code follows the manufacturer's internal numbering system, which catalogued each design by shape, size, and intended use. The moon shape—a smooth, unbroken arc—was a deliberate departure from the more common barrette or claw forms. It required precise cutting and polishing to achieve a uniform curve without sharp edges that could snag hair.

Cellulose acetate, the primary material, was chosen for its warmth against the skin and its ability to be moulded into organic shapes. The clip’s reverse side features a spring-loaded metal mechanism, typical of mid-century British hair accessories, with a thin steel plate that provides tension without adding bulk. Early examples show a subtle amber tortoiseshell pattern; later runs introduced a deep jet black and a mottled cream that mimics natural horn.

Crescent-shaped hairclip resting beside a tortoiseshell comb on polished wood

Identifying an Authentic P512

For collectors, recognising a genuine P512 Moon Hairclip involves examining a few key details. The clip measures approximately 6.5 centimetres from tip to tip, with a width of 1.2 centimetres at the centre. The spring mechanism should be stamped with a tiny maker’s mark—usually an intertwined "M" and "A" inside an oval—though this mark may be faint on heavily used pieces. The acetate should feel smooth and slightly warm, never brittle or sticky. Genuine examples from the 1950s often display a gentle patina, a dulling of the surface that comes from decades of careful handling.

Beware of modern reproductions that mimic the crescent shape but use injection-moulded plastic with visible seam lines. The original P512 was hand-finished; the edges were buffed with a linen wheel, leaving a soft lustre that machine polishing cannot replicate. If you hold the clip up to a window, the light should pass through the acetate with a honeyed glow, not a flat, uniform brightness.

Common Variations

  • Amber tortoiseshell: The most common finish, with warm brown and gold swirls.
  • Jet black: A later 1960s variant, often paired with silver-toned springs.
  • Cream horn: Rarest of the three, with a milky white base and subtle darker streaks.
  • Miniature P512: A smaller version, 4 centimetres wide, intended for side-swept styles or securing fine hair.

Styling the Moon Clip Today

The P512’s crescent shape makes it surprisingly versatile with modern clothing. Because it does not rely on a dominant central ornament, it can be worn as a subtle accent or as part of a layered arrangement. One approach is to use two clips facing each other at the nape of the neck, creating a gentle crescent frame that holds a low ponytail or twisted chignon. This works particularly well with a silk blouse or a cashmere roll-neck, echoing the understated elegance of 1960s British style.

For a more contemporary look, slide a single P512 into a deep side part, letting the curve follow the line of the scalp. The clip’s low profile means it sits almost flush against the head, making it comfortable under a hat or hood. Readers who enjoy mixing eras might pair the moon clip with a chunky knit sweater and tailored trousers—the contrast between the soft, organic accessory and the crisp modern lines feels intentional rather than costume-like.

Side-part hairstyle secured with a vintage moon-shaped clip

Care and Preservation

Cellulose acetate is a semi-synthetic material that requires a gentle touch. Avoid exposing the P512 to direct sunlight for extended periods, as UV rays can cause the colour to fade or the plastic to become brittle. Similarly, keep it away from hairspray, perfume, and heat styling tools—alcohol and high temperatures can cloud the surface or warp the shape.

To clean the clip, wipe it with a soft, dry cloth after each wear. If residue builds up, dampen the cloth with plain water (never soap or solvents) and wipe gently, then dry immediately. Store the clip in a fabric-lined box or a soft pouch, separate from metal jewellery that could scratch the acetate. The spring mechanism may loosen over time; a tiny drop of sewing machine oil applied to the hinge with a toothpick can restore smooth action, but this should be done sparingly.

When to Retire a P512

If you notice small cracks radiating from the hinge area, or if the acetate has become sticky to the touch (a condition called "vinegar syndrome"), the clip has reached the end of its usable life. These signs indicate chemical degradation that cannot be reversed. However, a well-cared-for P512 can last for decades, and many examples from the 1950s remain in excellent condition today.

Collecting and Finding Your Own

The P512 Moon Hairclip appears occasionally at British vintage fairs, particularly those specialising in mid-century accessories. Portobello Road Market in London and the monthly flea market at Ardingly in West Sussex are good hunting grounds. Prices vary widely: a common amber example with light wear might cost between £15 and £30, while a pristine cream horn miniature can fetch £60 or more. Online auction sites require caution—always ask for clear photographs of the spring mechanism and the maker’s mark, and avoid listings that use stock images.

For readers who appreciate the broader context of mid-century British hair accessories, the P512 sits alongside other thoughtful designs from the same period. The p236 Kitty K Clip: A Collector’s Guide to a 1960s British Icon offers a playful contrast to the moon clip’s serene curve, while the Maison Archives Filo Tortoiseshell Clip: Design, History, and Care explores a more angular silhouette that pairs beautifully with the P512 in a well-chosen collection.

A Final Note on the Moon’s Appeal

What makes the P512 endure is not rarity or flashiness, but its quiet rightness. The crescent is a shape that feels both ancient and modern—it appears in Victorian hair combs, in Art Deco brooches, and in the minimalist jewellery of the 1990s. The Moon Hairclip captures that timelessness in a small, wearable object. When you slide it into your hair, you are not making a loud statement; you are adding a subtle harmony, a curve that echoes the line of your ear or the arch of your brow. That is the kind of detail that makes vintage accessories worth seeking out, worth preserving, and worth wearing.