I reckon I was born too late. I dream of catching Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock and the Rolling Stones in Hyde Park, shopping at Biba and Granny Takes a Trip and travelling the hippie trail overland from London to India through Afghanistan, Turkey and Iran.
Modern life lacks the colour and energy of the late 60s and 70s, it's too airbrushed, sanitised and neatly packaged. We're bombarded with advertising and the domination of the great British high street by the big chains mean its nigh-on impossible to buy anything individual or unique. Easy credit means posessions are acquired and disposed of without a second thought instead of being saved for and cherished.
Don't get me wrong, there's trappings of the modern world I love; the internet, Wii Fit, cheap air travel, 24 hour drinking, the fact I can choose to be unmarried and childless without being shunned by polite society but, given the choice I'd definately have been born in a different decade.
Until time travel becomes available I'll just have to carry on living the (day) dream, being chauffeured about in our 1970 VW Variant, playing Psychedelic music, chilling in Goa and dressing-up in vintage clothes.
|1970's nylon polo neck and Bayeaux Tapestry print maxi (£5 each, local vintage boutique), Vintage Finnish-made leather bag (£2.95, British Heart Foundation), Macrame pendant (My dearest Helga), Bangles (second-hand and inherited)|
|The groovy motif on my top|