FASHION TELEGRAPH ARTICLE

The neck's big thing: a colourful history of the silk scarf
As a new book shows, silk scarves have served as everything from wartime propaganda to travel souvenirs.

BY KATE SALTER 25 APRIL 2011
Elsa Schiaparelli, silk, 1960s Photo: DREW GARDNER
Audrey Hepburn once said, 'When I wear a silk scarf I never feel so definitely like a woman, a beautiful woman.'

Kenzo silk scarfLadies accessories - scarves£75.49No loves
On glamorous stars such as Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor and Grace Kelly, nothing seemed to epitomise the essence of chic more than their scarves, worn 'touring' style over the head, fluttering in the warm Riviera breeze.

Scarves: Why it's hip to be square
Scarves have been on the decline ever since. Aside from an occasional appearance on the catwalks, these days you're more likely to spot one around the necks of freshly coiffured ladies of a certain age on the King's Road.
But for a long time a silk scarf was as much a part of a woman's wardrobe as a smart handbag and a trusty lipstick.
As a new book, Scarves, shows, they were not only an essential accessory for the first half of the 20th century, they were also social artefacts that mirrored changes in art, fashion and lifestyle.
In the late 19th century shops such as Liberty - where you can still receive a lesson in how to knot your square - specialised in selling fashionable scarves in Art Nouveau florals and oriental patterns.
When rayon was invented in the 1930s scarves could be mass-produced, and women who couldn't afford a silk one could still keep up with current fashions.
In the 1940s designs became more subdued and scarves tended to be made of cotton, linen or wool. Fashion magazines advised women who didn't have enough clothing coupons for a new hat to twist their scarves into a turban or a snood.
Rather than a fashion statement, wearing one became a practical necessity in some cases; women working in munitions factories during the Second World War wore scarves on their heads to prevent their hair being caught in machinery. 'Cover your hair for safety. Your Russian sister does,' a government poster proclaimed.
Designs in the 1950s reflected the new optimistic mood of rebirth and revival. The muted tones of the war years were replaced by bright florals, such as the blues and pinks in the Jacqmar scarf shown here.
By the 1970s fashion designers were putting sketches and logos on to scarves. As well as being effective advertising, 1980s scarves were often brash and light-hearted, as in Fiorucci's Roy Lichtenstein-inspired design.
The book also contains examples produced as travel souvenirs. A scarf depicting the St-Tropez harbour from the 1960s would have been worn around the bronzed necks of an increasingly well-travelled elite.
There are scarves bearing a grid of downtown Manhattan, Place Vendôme in Paris and - the rather less exclusive - Blackpool.
Some of the most interesting examples in the book mark important occasions. One produced by Filmyra Fabrics in 1943 features extracts from Winston Churchill's speeches.
Scarves were also made to mark famous sporting occasions, such as the 1953 Coronation Derby winner, Pinza, or the London Olympics in 1948.
Scarves have also, of course, been used to commemorate royal occasions. One of the oldest in the book features a wistful Duke of York, the future George V, and his bride to be, to mark their wedding in 1893.
Similar scarves fetch staggering sums at auction, so before you're tempted to dismiss any William and Kate scarf-related memorabilia as naff, think again - it could become a collector's item.
Scarves (Thames & Hudson, £35), by Nicky Albrechtsen and Fola Solanke, is available from Telegraph Books (0844 871 1515; books.telegraph.co.uk) at £31.50 plus £1.25 p&p