A walk back to the age of elegance

Nearly 50 years on since her Parisian and London modelling days Barbara Sinclair-Thomson radiates sheer undiluted elegance. Today's outfit - ''I wanted to wear something smart for the press coming,'' she confides girlishly - is a simple charcoal grey-blue silk suit set off by a pair of black stilettos, a few discreet pieces of jewellery, and a chic bob. ''I don't know what I'll wear for the press thing,'' she declares with a shrug. A little black Dior number perhaps?

Together with Dior's biographer Marie France Pochna and his close personal friend Percy Savage, Barbara will be attending the press launch of Christian Dior's New Look - a Celebration.

Organised by Edinburgh's Talbot Rice Gallery, the exhibition is, says organiser Pat Fisher, ''a homage to Dior and the revolutionary impact of his designs on a world which was war-weary and hungry for culture and

luxury''. Though now headed up by former enfant terrible (now 40 years old) John Galliano, Dior burst out on the high-fashion world back in 1947 with the type of luscious materials and designs that defied post-war austerity.

In fact they were exactly the type of clothes that twentysomething Barbara loved to model in the early fifties. After doing a modelling course in London she hooked up with the haute couture house of Victor Stiebel where she was photographed by the man of the moment Norman Parkinson. ''He was delightful and charming because he made me so relaxed just talking about his farm'' - is her enduring memory.

Then she and a friend decided they would like to work for Dior, they simply knocked on the London door to be greeted by the ''terrifying'' Lady Dudley, who promptly invited them in to model the first London collection. ''I did some modelling for Dior when he opened in London then I did only one show in Paris,'' she recalls. ''But they were absolutely wonderful designs,'' she swoons. ''The most marvellous fabrics that I don't know where they got them from in those post-war days: mostly silks and very, very fine wool coats is what I remember modelling. For me he stood out straightaway. They were simple but utterly selfish clothes which I wore myself for years. Under every handmade garment was a very fine net or gauze that wasn't at all scratchy but kept the garment looking perfect.''

Though sadly the Dior wardrobe is now bare - ''We got them cheaper at the end of the collection'' - there is one of the remaining tiny handful of photographs from her ''portfolio'' that shows her wearing the most supreme ballgown dress which would spark off a catfight in any Hollywood boutique. ''It's made of very fine gauze,'' she explains. ''There are very fine silver threads all the way through it and pearls, and I think he used a smattering of crystals in the bodice. It was beautiful. I think Princess Margaret got that one,'' she adds nonchalantly. Other black-and-white photographs show a tall, slim, dark-haired model in the type of stylised poses we would find amusing today but were de rigueur then for the young lady wearing the sumptuous red velvet Dior dress.

Of her time as a Dior model, Barbara never once encountered the great man himself but does remember his Parisian second-in-command, Madame Margarite. ''I'm not quite sure of her relationship with Dior,'' she says. ''But she was the one who gave out the instructions on who wore what and hurried you up if she thought you were taking too long getting changed - in fact I can still get dressed quicker than anyone I know as a result,'' she chuckles.

One aspect, other than the trademark padded hips and pulled in waist, was, says Barbara, the Dior method of haute couture modelling in the salon. ''One of the things I remember about the Dior collections was the fact that there was no platform or stairs. You had to walk into the salon with everybody sitting around on chairs and you would walk up, turn without making a big show, and then back through the space in the middle of the room.'' Obliging me with a spontaneous demonstration I observe a swish but understated turn. ''It was not done to do anything other than put one foot in front of the other,'' she explains, with sitting-room carpet doubling for mid-catwalk. ''Perhaps a hand in the pocket if there was one but otherwise you kept your neck high and straight and smiling was kept to a minimum.''

It all seems like an innocent fairy-tale away from 90s supermodels and their attendant egos, tantrums, gossip columns and burgeoning bank accounts. ''I don't think you could ever compare then and now,'' observed Barbara. ''We didn't have dates or go to lots of parties. I was married, with a husband in Sudan where I stayed in between the modelling seasons. And I honestly can't remember how much money we earned. I was no-where near todays girls. It wasn't as glamorous I think but it was great fun!''

it did possess a modicum of dignity, absent from today's Parisian shenanigans. ''There was no music or noise at any of the salons,'' explains Barbara in scandalised tones. ''The vendeuse would call out your number and perhaps a minimal description of the garments you were wearing. Of course gloves were obligatory with everything,'' she stressed the etiquette of the time. ''You carried your own make up and applied a little mascara or lipstick yourself. Oh yes and no curly hair. It had to be straight. There was no touching of the materials allowed as we walked past. If you wanted to buy anything our private clients approached the vendeuse afterwards. It was all highly dignified. No-one had any airs or graces. And everyone seemed very well-mannered.'' She adds with a cheeky glint ''Even when you were asked to swap clothes with another model and had become very protective of your wardrobe - you

couldn't show it. That wouldn't have been professional.''

The life of a model came to a dignified end while Barbara was in her early thirties but she continued the fashion connection in carving out a career as a buyer for Harvey Nichols, Libertys and Jenners among others. ''I came to Glasgow in 1963,'' she explained in the well-spoken London accent she has has tenaciously held on to for over 30 years. ''My second husband was the painter Robert Sinclair-Thomson who was teaching at the GSA and then I got a job as a fashion expert on a Scottish Television programme Woman's World. I loved it,'' she offers enthusiastically. ''I did all the makeovers you see on the morning television shows these days.''

Nowadays she paints and enjoys her familial duties as a grandmother. However, the taste for the Dior dresses and salons has not diminished. ''I'd love to work again,'' she says gleefully. An utterly charming and elegant lady - Barbara Sinclair-Thomson could be the next face in Jean Paul Gaultier's older model ad series!

n A New Look At 1947 - Dior and The Edinburgh Festival opens at the Talbot Rice Gallery, Edinburgh, tomorrow and runs until September 21.