This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/17/world/europe/michael-rainey-dead.html
The article has changed 4 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
| Version 0 | Version 1 |
|---|---|
| Michael Rainey, Boutique Owner in Swinging London, Dies at 76 | Michael Rainey, Boutique Owner in Swinging London, Dies at 76 |
| (4 days later) | |
| Michael Rainey, who dressed the Beatles and the Rolling Stones in flamboyant, boldly colored designs from his avant-garde London men’s boutique and briefly became part of the city’s swinging fashion scene in the 1960s, died on Jan. 28 in Granada, Spain. He was 76. | Michael Rainey, who dressed the Beatles and the Rolling Stones in flamboyant, boldly colored designs from his avant-garde London men’s boutique and briefly became part of the city’s swinging fashion scene in the 1960s, died on Jan. 28 in Granada, Spain. He was 76. |
| His son Errol said the cause was emphysema. | His son Errol said the cause was emphysema. |
| When Mr. Rainey opened Hung on You in 1965, he had little fashion or tailoring experience, but the store flourished as part of a vanguard of hip London shops like Granny Takes a Trip. His frilly shirts, jackets with velvet cuffs, kipper ties, lemon-hued sharkskin suits, “Great Leap Forward” Mao jackets and reworked military uniforms turned customers into peacocks. | When Mr. Rainey opened Hung on You in 1965, he had little fashion or tailoring experience, but the store flourished as part of a vanguard of hip London shops like Granny Takes a Trip. His frilly shirts, jackets with velvet cuffs, kipper ties, lemon-hued sharkskin suits, “Great Leap Forward” Mao jackets and reworked military uniforms turned customers into peacocks. |
| “Its customers were the real departure from the routine, for they were almost exclusively the new male dandies invented by the 1960s, a taboo-breaking mixture of social and rock aristocracy as never encountered before,” Richard Lester wrote in “Boutique London: King’s Road to Carnaby Street” (2010). | “Its customers were the real departure from the routine, for they were almost exclusively the new male dandies invented by the 1960s, a taboo-breaking mixture of social and rock aristocracy as never encountered before,” Richard Lester wrote in “Boutique London: King’s Road to Carnaby Street” (2010). |
| With the words Hung on You painted in oversize letters on its storefront and a large mural inside, the shop became a groovy place to be seen, especially if rockers and other celebrities were known to have bought clothing there. | With the words Hung on You painted in oversize letters on its storefront and a large mural inside, the shop became a groovy place to be seen, especially if rockers and other celebrities were known to have bought clothing there. |
| One newspaper called the shop’s design a “dipsomaniac’s nightmare,” but Nik Cohn, the British pop critic, was kinder, writing in 1971, “When you shopped at Hung on You, you felt like Oscar Wilde and Captain Marvel locked up inside one body.” | One newspaper called the shop’s design a “dipsomaniac’s nightmare,” but Nik Cohn, the British pop critic, was kinder, writing in 1971, “When you shopped at Hung on You, you felt like Oscar Wilde and Captain Marvel locked up inside one body.” |
| Mr. Rainey was married at the time to Jane Ormsby Gore, an editor at Vogue magazine whose father, David, had been the British ambassador to the United States (and proposed marriage to the widowed Jacqueline Kennedy in 1968 but was rejected, as revealed in a letter discovered last month). Ms. Ormsby Gore knew The Rolling Stones and has been cited as an inspiration for their song “Lady Jane.” | Mr. Rainey was married at the time to Jane Ormsby Gore, an editor at Vogue magazine whose father, David, had been the British ambassador to the United States (and proposed marriage to the widowed Jacqueline Kennedy in 1968 but was rejected, as revealed in a letter discovered last month). Ms. Ormsby Gore knew The Rolling Stones and has been cited as an inspiration for their song “Lady Jane.” |
| In an interview for the website of the Victoria and Albert Museum, she said that Mr. Rainey was “like a mannequin, incredibly well dressed.” | In an interview for the website of the Victoria and Albert Museum, she said that Mr. Rainey was “like a mannequin, incredibly well dressed.” |
| “He always had a conventional approach to things, but with a twist,” she added. | “He always had a conventional approach to things, but with a twist,” she added. |
| More recently she told The New York Times style magazine T that it was “wonderful finding beautiful Edwardian or Victorian things and just adding them to a pair of jeans or something.” She recalled that their stylistic influences included Lord Byron, for shirts with frilly fronts, and Spenser’s “The Faerie Queene,” for its romantic mood. | More recently she told The New York Times style magazine T that it was “wonderful finding beautiful Edwardian or Victorian things and just adding them to a pair of jeans or something.” She recalled that their stylistic influences included Lord Byron, for shirts with frilly fronts, and Spenser’s “The Faerie Queene,” for its romantic mood. |
| Mr. Rainey once made a jacket for Mick Jagger with many little mirrors stitched into it. But during a performance, “Mick took it off and threw it into the audience,” Errol Rainey said in an interview. Later, he said that his father had asked Mr. Jagger, “Do you know what effort went into making that jacket?” It was “quite disheartening,” Errol Rainey said. | Mr. Rainey once made a jacket for Mick Jagger with many little mirrors stitched into it. But during a performance, “Mick took it off and threw it into the audience,” Errol Rainey said in an interview. Later, he said that his father had asked Mr. Jagger, “Do you know what effort went into making that jacket?” It was “quite disheartening,” Errol Rainey said. |
| The cachet of customers like Mr. Jagger — and the handiwork of tailors from London’s East End — meant Hung on You’s clothing was not cheap. Richard Neville, editor of the countercultural magazine Oz, wrote, “Groovers didn’t mind paying triple for a floral chiffon shirt because Mick Jagger had probably bought one like that.” | The cachet of customers like Mr. Jagger — and the handiwork of tailors from London’s East End — meant Hung on You’s clothing was not cheap. Richard Neville, editor of the countercultural magazine Oz, wrote, “Groovers didn’t mind paying triple for a floral chiffon shirt because Mick Jagger had probably bought one like that.” |
| But Hung on You did not hang on for long. It made a costly move nearby, and Mr. Rainey lost money on a large shipment of shirts whose long sleeves were delivered three inches short, his son said. Mr. Rainey sold the shop and moved for a while with his family to Gozo, a Maltese island, to find enlightenment through fasting and meditation. | But Hung on You did not hang on for long. It made a costly move nearby, and Mr. Rainey lost money on a large shipment of shirts whose long sleeves were delivered three inches short, his son said. Mr. Rainey sold the shop and moved for a while with his family to Gozo, a Maltese island, to find enlightenment through fasting and meditation. |
| Michael Sean O’Dare Rainey was born on Jan. 21, 1941, in Sydney, Australia, to Sean Rainey, a private in the Seaforth Highlanders of the British Army, and the former Marion Wallace. Their brief marriage ended in divorce, and Ms. Rainey moved peripatetically with Michael and her daughter, Shelagh, from Australia to India and Spain and England. | |
| Mr. Rainey never graduated from college — it is not certain where he went or for how long — and found work on a yachting crew salvaging wrecks and as a movie extra (he appeared briefly in Michelangelo Antonioni’s “Blow-Up” in 1966). | Mr. Rainey never graduated from college — it is not certain where he went or for how long — and found work on a yachting crew salvaging wrecks and as a movie extra (he appeared briefly in Michelangelo Antonioni’s “Blow-Up” in 1966). |
| Mr. Rainey never again achieved the renown of his Hung on You years. He sold vintage carpets, women’s clothes and kitchenware in England. He drove a taxi and picked fruit in Australia. | Mr. Rainey never again achieved the renown of his Hung on You years. He sold vintage carpets, women’s clothes and kitchenware in England. He drove a taxi and picked fruit in Australia. |
| His marriage to Ms. Gore ended in divorce in 1984. About 20 years ago he moved to Spain, where married Mónica Andrada-Vanderwilde Borrajo. She survives him. | His marriage to Ms. Gore ended in divorce in 1984. About 20 years ago he moved to Spain, where married Mónica Andrada-Vanderwilde Borrajo. She survives him. |
| Besides her and his son Errol, whose mother, Hermione Lyons, had a long relationship with Mr. Rainey, Mr. Rainey is survived by two daughters from his second marriage, Inés and Jimena; two daughters, Rose and Ramona, and two sons, Saffron and Gawaine, from his marriage to Ms. Ormsby Gore; seven grandchildren; and his sister, Shelagh Tennant. | Besides her and his son Errol, whose mother, Hermione Lyons, had a long relationship with Mr. Rainey, Mr. Rainey is survived by two daughters from his second marriage, Inés and Jimena; two daughters, Rose and Ramona, and two sons, Saffron and Gawaine, from his marriage to Ms. Ormsby Gore; seven grandchildren; and his sister, Shelagh Tennant. |
| Mr. Rainey recently recalled a story that reflected his flashier days as a London fashionista. He told a Spanish food website that in 1975 he and the Surrealist artist Salvador Dalí were watching the funeral of Gen. Francisco Franco, the longtime dictator of Spain, in Mr. Dalí’s hotel room in Manhattan. | Mr. Rainey recently recalled a story that reflected his flashier days as a London fashionista. He told a Spanish food website that in 1975 he and the Surrealist artist Salvador Dalí were watching the funeral of Gen. Francisco Franco, the longtime dictator of Spain, in Mr. Dalí’s hotel room in Manhattan. |
| “The telephone rang and it was Andy Warhol,” he told the website, the Tapas Lunch Company. “He wanted us to come over to some party or other. Dalí said we couldn’t come as we were watching a funeral on TV. Dalí was in tears at the death of Franco. He was a fan.” | “The telephone rang and it was Andy Warhol,” he told the website, the Tapas Lunch Company. “He wanted us to come over to some party or other. Dalí said we couldn’t come as we were watching a funeral on TV. Dalí was in tears at the death of Franco. He was a fan.” |