The P245 Imogen Bow Barrette: A Collector’s Guide to a 1960s British Hair Accessory

When I first held the P245 Imogen Bow Barrette from the Maison Archives, I noticed something immediately unusual about its weight. Most bow-shaped hair clips from the late 1950s and early 1960s are surprisingly light — stamped metal with a thin enamel coating that can chip if you breathe on it too hard. The Imogen is different. It sits in the palm with a solid, reassuring heft, and the bow itself — a perfect double-loop silhouette measuring roughly 6 cm across — is constructed from two separate pieces of formed brass that have been silver-soldered together at the centre knot. That join is almost invisible unless you tilt the barrette under a strong light. This level of construction was never mass-market; it points to a small workshop, likely in Birmingham's Jewellery Quarter, where the same hands that made brooches and dress clips turned their skills to hair accessories.

The Imogen Bow Barrette belongs to a small family of pieces produced for a single season around 1962, possibly for a specific London department store's millinery counter. The archives record the model number P245, but no designer name survives. What we do know is that the barrette was available in three finishes: gilt with a brushed satin surface, silver plate with an oxidised black detail in the crevices of the bow, and a rare gunmetal version that occasionally turns up with remnants of a dark red enamel inside the loops. The gunmetal variant is the one serious collectors hunt for — fewer than a dozen have appeared at auction in the last decade.

How the Imogen Bow Barrette Was Made

Understanding the construction helps you evaluate condition when you find one in the wild. The base material is brass stock, cut into two identical bow-shaped blanks using a hand-operated fly press. Each half was then domed with a dapping punch — a process that gives the Im its gentle convex curve rather than a flat, two-dimensional look. The two halves were soldered together, then the entire piece was filed and polished by hand before plating. You can feel the hand-finishing along the edges: they are smooth but not mechanically uniform, with slight variations that no modern CNC machine would produce.

The clasp mechanism is a spring-loaded French clip — a type that became popular in Britain after the war because it held firmly in fine hair without pulling. On the Imogen, the spring is housed in a brass tube that was crimped into place, not glued. This matters because replacement springs from period-correct sources are nearly impossible to find; if the spring is weak or missing, the barrette becomes a display piece rather than a wearable accessory. I always check the tension by opening and closing the clip three times in a row. If it feels gritty or catches halfway, the mechanism may have internal corrosion that is expensive to repair.

The Bow Motif in British Hair Accessories

The bow has appeared in British hair ornamentation since at least the Regency period, when silk ribbon bows were pinned into elaborate coiffures. By the 1950s, the bow had been translated into metal and plastic for everyday wear, but the best examples — like the Imogen — retained the proportions of their fabric ancestors. The loops are not identical; one is slightly wider than the other, a deliberate asymmetry that mimics the way a real ribbon tie settles. That detail is what separates a thoughtful design from a mere novelty shape.

If you are building a collection of mid-century British hair accessories, the Imogen sits naturally alongside tortoiseshell clips and velvet headbands from the same period. For a broader view of how these accessories worked with the structured tailoring of the era, our guide on wool blazers and vintage hair accessories explores the interplay between sharp lapels and delicate hair ornaments.

Where to Look for the P245 Imogen

These barrettes surface in three main places. First, at specialist vintage jewellery fairs in the UK — particularly the ones held in Bath, Brighton, and the Chelsea Town Hall in London. Sellers who deal in 1950s and 1960s British dress jewellery often recognise the Imogen by its weight and will price it accordingly (expect £45–£85 depending on finish and condition). Second, in the mixed-lot boxes at regional auction houses. I have seen two Imogens sold as part of a job lot of costume jewellery where the auctioneer had photographed only the top layer of items. The third place is online marketplaces, but the search is tedious because most sellers photograph the barrette from above, making it look like any other bow clip. The distinguishing feature to ask about is the two-piece construction — if the seller can confirm that the bow is made from two soldered halves, you are likely looking at an authentic P245.

Condition Checklist

• Plating wear: Check the high points of the bow loops. Gilt versions often show brass peeking through on the centre knot and the outer edges. A thin, even wear is acceptable; patchy loss that exposes raw metal is not.
• Spring action: The clip should open at least 90 degrees and snap back cleanly. A sluggish return indicates a tired spring.
• Solder integrity: Hold the barrette up to a window and look through the gap between the bow halves. If you see light where the join should be solid, the solder has cracked.
• Enamel (gunmetal version only): The red enamel inside the loops should be glossy and intact. Chipped enamel reduces value by roughly 40% because matching the colour is nearly impossible.

Styling the Imogen Today

The Imogen Bow Barrette works best in hair that has some texture — it does not grip well on freshly washed, silky-straight hair. A low chignon or a side-swept twist gives the clip enough purchase to stay put. Because the barrette is gold or silver, it pairs naturally with other warm-metal accessories: a thin chain necklace, small hoop earrings, or a leather belt with a brass buckle. Avoid mixing it with cold-white metals like modern stainless steel; the contrast in tone looks accidental rather than intentional.

For readers who prefer a softer, more romantic silhouette, the bow also complements the wavy styles covered in our feature on vintage hair accessories for wavy hair, where the clip's weight helps hold volume without flattening the crown.

Care and Storage

The Imogen's brass core is sensitive to moisture. Never store it in a bathroom; the humidity cycles will accelerate plating loss and can cause the steel spring to rust from the inside out. Keep it in a fabric-lined jewellery box or a small cotton pouch, separate from other pieces that might scratch the surface. If the barrette develops a light tarnish on the silver-plated version, a gentle wipe with a silver cloth — not a dip, which can seep into the spring housing — restores the lustre without damaging the mechanism. Gilt finishes should never be polished; the plating is thin, and abrasive cloths will remove it entirely. A soft, dry microfiber cloth is sufficient.

One restorer I know recommends applying a microscopic drop of sewing machine oil to the hinge pin once a year if the barrette is worn regularly. She uses a toothpick to transfer the oil, then opens and closes the clip ten times to work it in. This prevents the hinge from seizing and extends the functional life of the piece indefinitely. It is the kind of care that a well-made object like the P245 Imogen deserves — and that rewards you with decades more use.