Kalembar Dune

Meet George Jetson…Jane his wife…daughter Judy, his boy Elroy! Can’t you hear the entire intro to that show in your head? In my house, we would sit around and watch, pie eyed, loving every second the dog Astro would take his “skywalk” on his outdoor treadmill, always a little scared that he might fall off! Let’s see…I would have been wearing my red PF Flyers – which I loved because I felt SO 1960s american girl in them, cuffed blue denim jeans with red stitching, and some type of flannel plaid shirt.  Adorning my brunette pixie do would be an aluminum barrette, (another example of Yankee ingenuity)  – the kind that snapped in and snapped out (with which I would, of course, annoy my mother to no end – snap in, snap out, snap in, snap out, until the poor woman would kindly but firmly take it away and put it back in my head)..

That was the early 60s. For us kids – it was full of sunshine and hopscotch and rockets and penny candy and picnics (real picnics where you would go to the park or beach, meet other families and sit at the wooden tables or aluminum folding lawn chairs and eat watermelon and see who could spit the seeds the furthest..`

Our parents had cocktail parties with Gimlets and Harvey Wallbangers, jello molds and cheese balls. They listened to Frank Sinatra records on the Hi-Fi.  They talked politics because they cared, and because they could, as everyone was polite and respected each other’s right to an opinion.  They sat on brightly colored streamlined ”modern” living room furniture – all with the resonance of the Atomic age, cousins to our little 3 tier beauty shown above. 

We may be a tad more jaded, a bit more weary, with what appears to be a country in shambles and no relief in sight. I think it deserves mention, however, that in the conscience of our vast population of Baby-Boomers, there still reside many kids in PF Flyers that again want to run faster and jump higher. Remember? Of course you do. Well don’t give up – there’s way more Dodge Ball to be played - c’mon and lace them up and let’s go…

I LOVE jewelry.  My first purchase was a candy beaded necklace affair that I bought at Charlie’s for 5 cents.  I adored wearing it, chewing the beads off one by one, leaving my neck and chin a rather sticky mess, but feeling oh so glamourous nonetheless.

The ears were the next body part to be adorned.  As a little girl I would wear my mother’s clip on earrings until my head rang with the pain…racing around the house with  bright red lipstick, a plastic triple strand choker necklace and a scarf around my shoulders..  That was my first induction into the “no pain, no gain” beauty club. At age 12 my father pierced my ears for me.  More pain. It was a rather dramatic rite of passage, with all the family members crowding in the kitchen in attendance, watching, shouting, adding advice in three languages.  Chaos. My Big Fat Greek Wedding?  Pish. Have you met my family?

Well the piercing worked, and before long I had swinging gypsy hoops to match my love beads (purchased from Woolworth’s for 99 cents) to match my patched embroidered Landlubber hiphugger jeans procured from a strange head shop on Winter Street in town that always smelled of incense and something else…. Peggy Lipton was a far cry, but hey, I could dream.

College was Disco Inferno – so I won’t traumatize anyone with what we wore! Suffice it to say that it was tight, it was shiny, and that no organic DNA could be found in our get ups. 

BIG was the watchword for the 80s, with huge dangling earrings and necklaces, shoulder pads the size of Manhattan, along with REALLY, REALLY, big hair.  I wanted to be Alexis Carrington. (still do)

The late 80s and 90s brought kids, so it’s all still a blur.  If my shirt was on the right way I was happy. I do remember thinking I was being very avant garde (hahahahahahahaha) by adding a second hole in my ear.  Some odd place in Provincetown did the deed, and it wicked hurt for 3 weeks! Crazy.

And then, finally, and along with me, what’s old became new again.  I ask you – HOW FUN IS THAT??

A few necklaces from my mother that I wore playing dress-up all those years ago miraculously survived. And while many beloved brain cells have lost their way,  the ones I still have enjoy mixing those vintage items with the latest fashion offerings. It’s a lovely combination of nostalgia and hip, and one that is really, really cool.

TGIF folks – put it on, dress it up! Happy Weekend!