The Store p191 Velvet Crown Headband: A Collector’s Guide
If you have ever browsed the racks of a Portobello Road stall or scrolled through the small hours on eBay UK, you have likely encountered a curious code – store p191 – stamped on the inside of a velvet crown headband. Unlike the more common p150 or p157 numbers that appear on diamante barrettes, the p191 designation is rarer and almost always appears on a particular shape: a padded, crown-like band of velvet, often in deep jewel tones, with a wire core that allows it to sit gracefully on the head. These are not mass-produced modern accessories. They belong to a mid‑20th‑century tradition of demi-tiaras, designed for women who wanted the glamour of a crown without the weight or formality of metal and stones.
What Exactly Is the Store p191 Velvet Crown Headband?
The code store p191 is a retailer stock number – likely from a British department store or a specialist millinery supplier active between the late 1940s and the early 1960s. The headband itself consists of a flexible metal frame, usually brass or steel, wrapped in a cotton or silk velvet. The “crown” shape is achieved by cutting the velvet on the bias and gathering it at the centre front so that it rises an inch or two above the hairline, tapering to a thin band at the nape. The inside is often lined with a grosgrain ribbon, and the ends are finished with a small hook‑and‑eye or a narrow elastic loop.
Collectors prize these headbands for their structural integrity. The velvet is almost always hand‑stitched to the frame, and the pile is dense, indicating a higher thread count than modern craft velvets. Colours commonly found include burgundy, emerald, midnight blue, and occasionally a faded rose – all with that subtle changeant sheen that only a cellulose‑based dye can produce.
How the Crown Shape Entered British Hair Fashion
To understand the p191, we need to look at the post‑war obsession with the “crown” silhouette. In the early 1950s, Christian Dior’s New Look had popularised a romantic, wasp‑waisted femininity, and hair accessories followed suit. Tiaras were still reserved for evening wear, but a velvet crown headband offered a daytime alternative – something a woman could wear to a tea dance, a garden party, or even to church. British milliners like Simone Mirman and Aage Thaarup experimented with crown‑shaped headbands in velvet and felt, and the style trickled down to high‑street versions. The p191 is one of those ready‑to‑wear interpretations, yet its quality rivals that of bespoke pieces.
The Anatomy of the Crown Headband
Let us examine the components of an authentic p191:
- Frame: A continuous loop of spring steel, approximately 3 mm wide, covered in a bias‑cut velvet tube. The steel retains its shape but allows slight adjustment when gently bent.
- Crown rise: The front section is padded with a layer of cotton wadding before the velvet is gathered. This creates a soft, rounded peak that stands about 3 cm above the band plane.
- Lining: Grosgrain ribbon, often stamped with the store p191 mark in silver or gold ink. The ribbon prevents the metal from rubbing against the hair and helps the band stay in place.
- Fastening: A small brass hook sewn onto one end and a thread loop on the other – no plastic or synthetic components.
Materials and Techniques: Why Velvet Works
Velvet is a notoriously difficult fabric to work with on curved frames. The pile must all lie in the same direction; otherwise, the finished headband looks patchy under daylight. In the p191, the velvet is cut on the true bias, which allows it to conform to the metal frame without puckering. The seams are whip‑stitched by hand with a silk thread, and the gathering at the crown is reinforced with a second layer of cotton muslin. This hand‑finishing is the hallmark of a pre‑1965 piece – after that, many British accessories moved to machine stitching.
If you are inspecting a candidate p191, check the inside for the small hand‑stitched gathering. If you see even, tiny stitches (about 1 mm apart), you are likely looking at a genuine vintage piece. Machine stitches, especially with a synthetic thread, usually indicate a later reproduction.
Styling the Store p191 Today
The beauty of a velvet crown headband is its quiet versatility. Unlike a sparkly tiara, it does not demand an evening gown. Here are three ways British vintage lovers are incorporating the p191 into a modern wardrobe:
- With a cashmere roll‑neck and tweed blazer: The deep burgundy or navy velvet adds a touch of warmth and texture without competing with the tweed. Let the headband sit just behind the hairline, allowing a few face‑framing strands to fall forward.
- As a bridal accessory for a registry office wedding: Many brides are now choosing a single velvet crown headband instead of a veil. A midnight‑blue p191 pairs beautifully with a cream silk dress and a simple bouquet.
- With a low chignon and a silk scarf: For a 1960s Left Bank vibe, twist your hair into a low knot and place the crown headband slightly forward. Then tie a silk scarf over the headband, letting the ends trail down the back.
For a deeper dive into another cult mid‑century headband, you might enjoy our companion piece on The Sidney Braided Headband 4: A Collector’s Guide to the Four-Strand Variant, which shares a similar structural philosophy but uses braided fabric rather than velvet.
How to Identify an Authentic Store p191
Because the code is obscure, few modern sellers know its significance. Always look for the stamped grosgrain lining. The ink may be faded, but a magnifying glass will reveal the block letters “STORE P191”. The velvet should feel thick – a test is to run your finger against the pile; a genuine velvet will show a distinct light and dark effect, while a cheap synthetic pile will look uniform. Also check for rust on the wire: minor surface rust is acceptable and can be treated, but heavy rust that has eaten through the velvet is a deal‑breaker.
| Feature | Authentic p191 (c. 1950s–60s) | Modern reproduction |
|---|---|---|
| Velvet pile | Silk or high‑quality rayon, dense | Polyester, sparse pile |
| Stitching | Hand‑whipped, silk thread | Machine, nylon thread |
| Marking | Stamped on grosgrain ribbon | Paper tag or no mark |
| Fastening | Brass hook + thread loop | Plastic hook or elastic |
Caring for Your Velvet Crown Headband
Velvet is resilient if you treat it correctly. Never soak a velvet headband – water will stiffen the metal core and distort the shape. Instead, lightly steam the velvet using a handheld steamer held 15 cm away, then brush the pile with a soft‑bristled garment brush. For stains, use a clean white cloth dampened with white vinegar (test on an inconspicuous spot first). Store the headband lying flat in a drawer, not hanging, because the weight of the velvet will pull the crown out of shape over time. If the wire frame has become kinked, you can gently reshape it with your hands – work slowly, bending a few degrees at a time.
One collector’s trick is to place the headband over a padded hanger’s shoulder curve to maintain the crown’s arch while airing. Avoid direct sunlight, which will fade the dye unevenly, especially on darker colours like emerald and burgundy.
Where the p191 Fits in British Vintage Culture
The store p191 velvet crown headband never made it into the glossy fashion magazines of its day – it was an affordable luxury for the middle‑class woman who wanted a touch of ceremony in her daily life. That quiet dignity is precisely what attracts today’s conscious collector. In an era of fast‑fashion tiaras made of plastic and glitter, finding a hand‑stitched velvet crown headband with a mysterious code feels like uncovering a small secret from the past.
If you are drawn to other cult hair accessories with a similar backstory, you might also find interest in The Blue Sukie Yuki Clip: Why It’s a Cult Object Among British Vintage Lovers – a piece that, like the p191, carries a code that marks it as part of a vanished world of British manufacture.
Next time you see a store p191 listed on a vintage site, you will know exactly what you are looking at: a carefully made, velvet‑clad headband with a 70‑year‑old soul, waiting for a second life in your hair.