Uncategorized

The Colour of Vintage Hair Accessories: A Collector’s Guide to Eras and Styling

The first time I held a 1920s French jet comb, I was struck by its deep, almost liquid black. But it was a 1950s cherry-red celluloid barrette that truly taught me about colour. That barrette, found at a flea market in Kent, had a warmth that photographs never capture—a translucent glow that shifted in the light. Since then, I have come to see colour as the most underrated dimension of vintage hair accessories. We talk about shape, material, and provenance, but colour tells its own story: of technological breakthroughs, social moods, and the quiet artistry of an era.

The Language of Colour: Materials and Techniques

Before the 1920s, colour in hair accessories was largely dictated by natural materials. Tortoiseshell offered warm ambers and mottled browns; horn produced deep blacks and occasional greens; silver and gold added metallic accents. The arrival of celluloid in the late 19th century changed everything. Manufacturers could suddenly create bright, opaque colours that mimicked coral, ivory, and tortoiseshell—or invent entirely new shades. Celluloid was often layered to produce a marbled effect, and the range of colours expanded rapidly: mottled blues, creamy yellows, soft pinks. By the 1930s, Bakelite had entered the scene, bringing with it dense, saturated colours—rich reds, butterscotch, greens, and the famous ‘PUI’ (pressed urea formaldehyde) with its swirled patterns.

After the Second World War, new plastics like polystyrene and acrylic allowed for even more intense hues. The 1950s favoured pastels: mint green, baby blue, and pale pink. The 1960s swung towards mod brights—electric orange, acid yellow, turquoise. The 1970s brought earthy tones: olive, rust, ochre. And the 1980s? Neon. Fluorescent pink, lime green, highlighter yellow. Each decade’s colour palette is a fingerprint of its time, and learning to read those colours is a skill every collector should develop.

How to Identify Colour Eras at a Glance

  • 1910s–1920s: Tortoiseshell amber, black French jet, deep green (dyed horn), pale ivory celluloid.
  • 1930s: Bakelite reds and butterscotch, mottled green, marbled brown.
  • 1950s: Pastel pinks, baby blues, mint greens, creamy whites, clear with coloured flecks.
  • 1960s: Bright yellow, orange, hot pink, turquoise, opaque white.
  • 1970s: Earth tones – olive, brown, rust, mustard, ochre.
  • 1980s: Neon pinks, greens, yellows, and purples, often with geometric patterns.

Colour in the Modern Wardrobe: Styling Tips

One of the most common questions I receive is how to wear a brightly coloured vintage accessory without looking costumed. The answer lies in contrast and repetition. A 1960s orange plastic hair slide can be the anchor of an otherwise neutral outfit—camel, cream, navy. The pop of colour becomes a deliberate statement, not an accident. Alternatively, you can echo the colour elsewhere: a 1950s mint green barrette paired with a mint green handbag or a scarf with the same hue. As I explored in my Late Summer Vintage Hair Accessories: A Collector's Guide, the amber tones of tortoiseshell complement autumn wardrobes beautifully, while pastels work best in spring and summer.

For those who prefer subtlety, consider a single colourful comb tucked into a low chignon, or a set of small, matching clips scattered through loose hair. The key is to let the accessory breathe—don’t overwhelm it with competing patterns or colours. And never underestimate the power of a monochrome outfit: a black dress with a single red Bakelite hair comb is a lesson in restraint and impact.

Caring for Colour: Preservation and Cleaning

Colour in vintage materials is fragile. Celluloid is especially sensitive to heat and light—direct sunlight can cause fading and even warping. Store coloured accessories in a cool, dark drawer, ideally wrapped in acid-free tissue. Bakelite, while more stable, can develop a white ‘bloom’ or patina over time, which can be gently buffed with a soft cloth and a tiny amount of mineral oil—but test on an inconspicuous area first. For plastic pieces from the 1960s onwards, avoid alcohol-based cleaners; a damp microfibre cloth is usually enough.

When weekend sale hunting, keep an eye out for unusual colours—a faded 1950s pink might be salvageable, but a cracked, discoloured piece is often beyond repair. The best way to preserve colour is to avoid wearing the same piece every day; rotation reduces exposure to oils, hairspray, and UV light. If you find a rare colour variation, such as a 1930s Bakelite hair comb in vermilion, treat it as the treasure it is—and wear it gently.

Final Thought: The Colour of Discovery

Next time you pass a vintage stall, let your eye be drawn to the colour—not just the shape. That single orange clip might be a 1960s rarity waiting to be rediscovered. Colour is the silent signature of an era, and it rewards those who look closely. I keep a small notebook where I sketch the colours I find, noting the date, location, and material. Over time, these notes become a personal map of the rainbow, each shade a memory of a story half-told.