This was also a time of social unrest in the country. This was the time of the hippie, now called bohemian. The people who wanted to drop out and opt out. There were wonderful bands who extolled the acid, pot, and other drugs available. Drugs to stay awake, and drugs to go to sleep. We saw "Valley of the Dolls". This movie wasn't about Barbies. It was about drugs. We saw "Easy Rider". They were two ends of the drug generation. Our
Fashion was one of the things that separated the wealthy drug users from the everyday users. And this group of fashions feels like an instant replay of those days. The only difference is the shoes. And then they had square toes. Oh well.
I loved the look when Twiggy hit the scene. I was then still looking at 17 Magazine. And Glamour. And Mademoiselle. Not yet ready to go to Cosmo. Anyway I had another secret desire I was hiding. I knew the Twiggy look would just not do for me. There were some major problems. Like my large chest. And of course the fact that most of the girls I saw weren't wearing the clothes either. We lived in Florida at the time. Too warm.
For the record I did believe the Vietnam was was wrong. Because our guys were being maimed and killed. And very few came back whole, mentally or physically. I hate war. I resent the idea that it is ok to kill someone. My beliefs were basic. Personal. Not political. And I was more caught up in the things at home, husband and child.
Unfortunately now I understand why my mother wanted to run away to Australia. I always wanted to run away. I wanted to be a hippie. I wanted to be a Bohemian. Yes there were bohemians way before hippies. And I wanted to be a hippie in the worst way. The clothing was different from the average stuff I saw around me. We had average jobs, average lives, and I was bored. It didn't help that my most important relationship was just not good. Never. Never was good.
Hippies wore their hair long, painted their vehicles(mostly vans), and went barefoot. Their needs were simple. I am sure
that a toothbrush and deodorant wasn't at the top of the list of
needs. That, and the fact that they didn't know where their lives
were headed put me off. I've always been afraid of being alone, unloved, lonely. But at the same time, I hated marching to the beat of everyone else's drummer. Can we say conundrum?
Well, now I'm retired. I still love the bohemian outlook. But I'd hate to lose my medicare and my social security. I think in a liberal vein but dropping out wouldn't work now either. I can, however, still admire the hippie and boho fashions, ideas, and creations. I can wear some vaguely boho things, including a bag with a peace sign. And I can hope the new folks who love the boho look can enjoy it as much as I do.