The p485 Edith Leaf Hairclip: A Mid-Century Botanical Barrette
Leaf-shaped hair ornaments enjoyed a quiet resurgence in Britain during the late 1950s, when post-war austerity gave way to a renewed appreciation for natural forms in jewellery and accessories. The p485 Edith Leaf Hairclip belongs squarely to that moment — a small, sculptural barrette made not for grand statements but for the kind of everyday elegance that defined the early 1960s wardrobe. Unlike the more whimsical cat clips or floral sprays of the same period, the Edith leaf draws on a botanical realism that feels both restrained and deeply intentional.
The clip measures roughly 5.5 centimetres from stem to tip, a length that makes it ideal for securing a side section of hair or anchoring a low twist. Its silhouette is that of an ivy leaf, with three distinct lobes and a subtle asymmetry that mirrors nature. The metal base is stamped brass, chosen for its ability to hold fine detail — the veins are raised rather than etched, giving the piece a tactile quality that only becomes apparent when you turn it over in your fingers.
The front is finished in translucent enamel, most commonly found in a deep forest green that shifts to amber when light catches the edges. Some editions carry a tortoiseshell overlay, achieved by layering brown and amber enamels over a gold-toned foil.

Materials and construction: a workshop tradition
The p485 was manufactured in the Birmingham Jewellery Quarter, where Maison Archives maintained a small workshop from the 1940s until the early 1970s. The production process for a single clip involved seven steps: die-stamping the brass blank, annealing the metal to prevent brittleness, hand-filing the edges, applying a base coat of enamel, firing at around 800°C, painting the vein details by hand, and a final firing to seal the surface. The clasp mechanism on the reverse is a spring-loaded alligator clip with a ridged grip — a design that was patented in 1954 and remained in use for over a decade. Collectors can date their piece approximately by the clip's shape: earlier versions have a rounded, slightly bulbous hinge cover, while later ones are flatter and more streamlined.
The enamel itself is lead-based in the earliest batches, which gives it an unusual depth of colour that later non-toxic formulations rarely achieve. This is not a flaw — the slight crazing that sometimes appears on pre-1963 examples is considered a mark of authenticity among serious collectors. If you own a p485, examine the enamel under a 10x loupe: tiny bubbles or variations in thickness are signs of hand application, not damage.
Silhouette and styling through the decades
The early 1960s favoured structured hairstyles — the beehive, the French pleat, the bouffant. Leaf clips like the Edith were designed to be worn in pairs, placed symmetrically on either side of a centre part or stacked vertically along a roll. But the versatility of the p485 reveals itself when the hairstyles change. By the late 1960s, when looser, more natural looks emerged, the clip was often used alone to hold a single braid or to tuck a stray section behind the ear. Women who owned several pieces would cluster two or three leaves in a cascade, mixing the green version with the tortoiseshell for a layered effect.
Today, the Edith leaf works best as a subtle accent in a modern context. Slide it into a low, side-parted bun for a look that nods to vintage without feeling costumed. Pair it with a crisp white shirt and jeans — the organic shape softens the minimalism. For readers who prefer a more layered approach, consider combining the p485 with a velvet braided headband. The contrast between the leaf's rigid enamel and the soft fabric creates a pleasing tension that is entirely contemporary. (We explored a similar interplay of textures in our guide to the Isla shell barrette — the Edith leaf complements that piece beautifully if you decide to mix collections.)
Another styling option that has gained popularity among British vintage enthusiasts is the asymmetrical ear-covering trick: place the clip just above the ear so that a section of hair falls over the lobe, then let the leaf catch the light. This works especially well with shorter cuts or lobs, where the clip becomes the focal point without needing volume underneath.

How to identify an authentic p485 Edith Leaf Hairclip
Because the p485 was produced over a relatively narrow window (approximately 1956 to 1963), the variations are limited. Still, copies and inspired designs exist. Here are three markers that separate the original from later interpretations:
- Reverse stamp. Look for a tiny engraved “MA” inside a diamond — the Maison Archives workshop mark. This stamp was applied with a hand-held punch and will not be perfectly aligned. Later reproductions often use a laser-etching that appears too crisp.
- Vein pattern. The original has six principal veins radiating from the centre stem. The two outermost veins curve outward more than inward, mimicking ivy. Most secondary market pieces simplify this to five symmetrical lines.
- Clasp tension. The spring on an authentic p485 holds firmly but opens with a moderate resistance. If the clip snaps shut forcefully or feels loose, the spring may have been replaced — or the piece is not original.
Should you come across a p485 at a flea market or vintage fair, do not be deterred by minor enamel chips. The brass underneath develops a warm patina over decades, and a small loss of enamel at the edge often reveals the layered construction, which collectors value as evidence of craftsmanship. A piece with intact enamel and a functional clasp, even if lightly worn, can command prices upward of £45 in today's market.
Caring for your leaf clip
Enamel is durable but brittle. A fall onto a tiled floor can fracture the coloured surface, and exposure to hairspray or perfume can cloud it over time. To clean the p485, wipe it with a soft, dry cloth after each wear. If residue has built up, dampen a cotton bud with distilled water and gently stroke the enamel — never use alcohol, acetone, or abrasive polishes. The brass back should be kept dry; moisture trapped under the hinge can cause verdigris, which eats into the metal. Store the clip in a soft pouch lined with acid-free tissue paper, and avoid placing it in direct sunlight for extended periods, as UV light can fade the translucent enamel.
For those who wear the clip frequently, consider rotating it with other pieces to reduce wear on the clasp spring. The p485's mechanism is sturdy, but like any vintage spring, it benefits from occasional rest. If the clip begins to feel loose, a gentle squeeze of the hinge with fine-nosed pliers (wrapped in cloth to prevent scratching) can restore tension — though this is a repair best done by someone experienced with vintage accessories. When you inspect the reverse side, look for the tiny stamped “MA” logo — a mark of Maison Archives' mid-century workshop in Birmingham's Jewellery Quarter.
