The Clemie Hair Claw 1: A Collector’s Guide to the 1980s British Hair Clip

Few hair accessories capture the quiet precision of 1980s British design quite like the Clemie Hair Claw 1. At first glance it appears to be a simple tortoiseshell claw clip, but the weight in your palm tells a different story. Measuring exactly 8.5 cm in length, with seven evenly spaced teeth and a spring-loaded hinge that clicks with a reassuring snap, this is an object engineered for hold without grip. The acetate body is sanded to a satin sheen, not high gloss – a deliberate choice that reduces slipping in fine or silky hair. Most surviving examples bear a tiny embossed “Clemie” and the numeral “1” on the underside of the hinge plate, a detail that separates the genuine article from later imitations.

What Is the Clemie Hair Claw 1?

The Clemie Hair Claw 1 is part of a small, now-discontinued line manufactured by a Leicester-based accessories house during the late 1970s and early 1980s. While the company itself faded into obscurity – swallowed by larger costume-jewellery conglomerates – the claw clip survived in wardrobes and charity shops across the UK. Its name likely derives from a contraction of “clem” (an old Leicestershire dialect word for a clasp) combined with the feminine suffix “-ie”, though no archival documentation has ever confirmed this etymology. What is certain is that the model number 1 indicates the first and most popular shape in a trio of claw designs (the Clemie 2 was a smaller version with five teeth, and the Clemie 3 a jumbo size for thick hair).

The clip’s hallmark is its balanced spring tension – strong enough to secure a chignon or half-up twist all day, yet gentle enough to avoid snagging. This was achieved by pairing a nickel-silver spring with an acetate outer that had been heat-moulded to exactly fit the curve of the average human scalp. Every Clemie 1 shares that same arc, which means the clip sits flush against the head rather than protruding at an angle – a detail that makes it unusually comfortable under hats and headscarves.

Materials and Craftsmanship

The Clemie 1 is made from cellulose acetate, a material prized by mid-century accessory makers for its warmth, flexibility, and ability to take deep, translucent colours. Unlike the brittle bakelite of an earlier generation, acetate can flex slightly without cracking, which is why many Clemie claws are still fully functional today. The tortoiseshell effect on the standard issue is achieved by layering amber, honey, and dark brown dyes during the casting process, then hand-brushing a subtle mottling before the final polish. The metal hinge is assembled from three parts: the spring, a thin brass pin, and two side plates stamped from nickel-silver (a copper-nickel-zinc alloy that does not tarnish green).

Later production runs (around 1984-86) sometimes substituted a cheaper steel spring and reduced the number of teeth from seven to six. Collectors generally prefer the earlier seven-tooth versions, which are marked with a crisp “1” on the hinge plate. The colour palette beyond tortoiseshell included jet black, cream, a deep burgundy called “Clemie Wine,” and a limited-edition translucent lavender that is now highly sought after. That lavender release ties into the broader understanding of how certain hues can signal era and rarity – a topic explored further in The Secret Language of Bertha Hair Accessory Colours.

How to Identify an Authentic Vintage Clemie Claw

Fakes and reproductions have appeared on online marketplaces in recent years, so knowing the tell-tale signs is essential. Here are the key checkpoints:

• Hinge marking: Look underneath the clip at the small rectangular plate that holds the pin. Authentic Clemie 1 claws have “CLEMIE” in block capitals and a separate “1”. Fakes often miss the numeral or use a cursive font.
• Teeth count: Seven teeth is the standard for the model 1. Six indicates a different model or a later economy version – still collectable but worth less.
• Acetate smell: Gently warm the clip with your breath – real cellulose acetate releases a faint, sweet vinegar-like odor (from the camphor content). Plastic imitations smell chemical or have no smell at all.
• Weight: A genuine Clemie 1 weighs 12 grams exactly (if in good condition). Lighter clips often use thinner acetate and weaker springs.
• Spring tension: Open the claw about 45 degrees and hold it horizontal. An authentic spring holds that position without snapping shut. If it closes immediately, the spring is either worn or replaced.

Wearing the Clemie Claw 1 Today

Integrating a forty-year-old hair clip into a modern wardrobe is less about recreating a period look and more about letting the accessory undo the clean lines of contemporary dressing. The Clemie 1’s warm amber tones work beautifully against navy knits, cream linen, or a sharp white collar. For a complete 1980s-flavoured statement, pair it with a structured midi – the kind of lace dress that defined the late decade. Our guide to The 80s Midi Lace Dress: A Vintage Style Essential offers specific styling cues that match the claw’s understated elegance: think high-necked, long-sleeved silhouettes that let the hair clip become the only ornament above the shoulders.

For everyday wear, try a low twisted bun secured with the Clemie 1 at the nape, leaving a few face-framing strands loose. The clip’s curve hugs the skull so neatly that it barely disturbs the line of a beret or a wide-brimmed hat. Alternatively, use two Clemie 1 claws (if you are lucky enough to have a pair) to hold back thick side sections in a grown-out pixie cut – the teeth align without overlapping, which is rare in vintage claw clips.

Care and Preservation

Acetate is sensitive to heat and prolonged sunlight. Never leave your Clemie 1 on a radiator, in a car dashboard, or under a direct window for hours – the material can warp, and the tortoiseshell pattern may darken unevenly. Store it in a soft pouch or a compartmented box, ideally away from other metal accessories that could scratch the surface. If the spring feels sluggish after years of non-use, a single drop of sewing machine oil applied to the hinge pin (not the spring itself) can restore smooth action. Wipe the acetate with a barely damp microfibre cloth – never use alcohol, ammonia, or acetone, which will cloud the finish and dissolve the dyes.

Collecting the Clemie Claw 1

Prices for a clean, fully functional Clemie 1 in tortoiseshell typically range from £15 to £35 at UK vintage fairs and online auctions. The rarer colours – especially the translucent lavender and the deep wine – can fetch £60 or more, particularly if the original box is included (a plain cream cardboard box with a gold foil “Clemie” sticker). Condition is paramount: hairline cracks in the acetate near the hinge are common but reduce the clip’s value by half. Worn-down teeth (where the tips have been sanded smooth by use) also lower desirability, though they do not affect functionality.

One often-overlooked aspect of the Clemie 1 is the subtle variation in the tortoiseshell pattern – no two clips were ever identical due to the hand-brushed mottling. Some collectors seek out examples with a particularly rich “eye” (a dark, circular swirl in the centre of the clip), while others prefer an even honey-toned base with minimal dark spots. The quest for a specific pattern can become quietly absorbing, much like building a collection of a specific style – as detailed in our guide to The Asta Flower Hair Clip: A Collector's Guide to Colours, Care, and Styling, a fellow traveller in the world of British vintage hair accessories.

Before buying, always request a photo of the hinge plate from the seller. A genuine Clemie 1 will show crisp lettering and a clean pin. If the hinge looks rusty or the acetate has a tacky surface (a sign of decomposition), walk away. Preservation-friendly buyers sometimes also ask about the smell: a faint vinegar scent is good; a sour, ammonia-like odour indicates that the acetate is beginning to break down chemically.

One final, narrow actionable step: if you do acquire a Clemie 1, test the spring by opening and closing the claw ten times in a row. This warms the metal and ensures the hinge is free of grit. Then let it rest closed for an hour. If it opens with the same resistance afterward, the mechanism is sound – and you now own a piece of British hair-accessory engineering that has earned its place in the modern wardrobe.