Platform shoes, skintight thin t-shirts, tight jeans that didn’t reach past their calves, the sort of clothing you would buy at a thrift store – or that a thrift store would even deign to accept – they were so bare and were now all the rage and style.
Platform shoes, that went out in the 70’s when gals started twisting ankles, breaking legs from toppling over on them. I guess history does repeat itself since clearly no one studies it in this group. Or at least no one studies fashion history :-). I can see parents agonizing that their kids haven’t learned from the parents’ young….missteps. (Literally and figuratively).
Tattoos. Everyone had a tattoo – usually over a large area of their bodies.
I watched as a boy lifted his shirt to reveal a beautiful painting. On his body.
I felt like topsy turvy day at camp – the women had very short hair. The men had long, stringy hair. I can appreciate a good head of hair on a guy, but stringy and dirty? Not. Besides, I thought that went out in the ’80s.
Some of the girls had shaved their heads. It was fun trying to figure out the genders. Some had only shaved half – asymmetrical.
One of my girls’ prep school friends, after school had a razor haircut – zig zag designs in her dark brown hair. It was very cool. And she had the most beautiful face – perfect for her haircut. And smooth head – so also perfect for the haircut.
I loved it.
These gals….wasn’t the same. They just didn’t quite have the whatever it took…to pull it off.
Some gals, more guys had pierced ears with something the size of volkswagon buses in their ears.
This SF art event reminded me of when the US Air Attaché and his son came to honor General Yeager who was becoming an “Officer” in the French Legion of Honor. The son had pierced eyebrow (several rings), nose, lip, tongue…General Yeager asked the Air Attaché why he let his son do that. The Air Attaché punted
(since his son was born apparently): Oh you know kids.
Especially when there aren’t any parents parenting.
President Roosevelt’s granddaughter-in-law, who was French, remarked: If you want to let your children dress like that, then don’t bring them out to represent you and the US.
I kept looking at the kid and saying: OW! That hurts.
The kids protested: No, it didn’t.
Me: It hurts ME to look at it. It would have hurt me and so every time I see you, I imagine it. OW!
I said OW a few more times, every time I looked at him.
He started to see why some people are not impressed with his look – and, frankly, horrified by it. It seemed to have more of an effect than any other words.
Wonder what he looks like now.
As I was thinking about this kid, I looked around us. We were in San Francisco at an art show of the daughter of a friend of ours.
The art was pretty cool. Paintings. Different textures, different poses. Very cool.
Gen Y found the most normal (“normal” is what’s normal for you – quoting that great philosopher – a commercial :/) looking people in the room. The girlfriend of the father of the boyfriend of the artist. Whew – that’s along one – Well she saw me watching the kid who had pulled up his shirt to show the painting on his body. Wow-owwwww! I mean ow!
She said: He’s a great artist.
Me: But how does he make a living? He can’t sell his chest.
She: No, but really he’s a great artist.
Oh allrighty then. I guess he could sell viewings. Or it’s an easy way for him to carry his portfolio…
But what if he got tired of that painting? I held on to the thought that maybe it was temporary, like the butterfly temp tattoo I got at the Fair.
Really the most normal looking beings were the puppies someone brought – I looked for piercings, tattoos….none. Innocent, happy puppies. Cute. And something in common.
I figured most of these people didn’t have a mirror. And I laughed at myself – I had been concerned I wouldn’t be dressed up enough for an opening.
Several wore outfits that didn’t match – polka dots with stripes, baggy with tight, pants didn’t reach any length that made sense. Huge derrieres stuffed into too small pants.
It was wonderful. Trying to be different and ending up all the same.
The juxtaposition of a World War II fighter pilot, who risked his neck to serve his country in peacetime and war with these kids was also great art. Gen Y was also keenly observing the group.
Many had the nose earring. It seemed like I was the only female who didn’t.
I remember going to Africa and having to inure myself against my kinesthetic reaction that this is painful – but to not wince – it was their custom. But it sure isn’t ours so why would these kids do this. I kept imagining the pain. And the opportunity for infection.
When I was in college, I fit in okay – but never dressed very preppy.
When I went to business school, I didn’t wear a suit every day – often it was jeans and polo shirt. Why dress up for classes?
The first day of orientation, I was one of two people in jeans. The other? Unbelievably a guy from university whom I only knew by a nickname I had assigned him. Ex – for his dorm – Echols.
He came over – two sympaticos in a sea of suits wondering what we were doing there.
Funnily enough, a year or more after business school, we both ended up in LA. We were still wearing jeans and polo shirts. His girlfriend, he and I went to a Hollywood party – everyone else was wildly dressed.
The same thought hit us both at the same time – while “wild” in business school, we didn’t light a candle to “wild” in LA. We were downright conservative! Funny. It’s all relative. And in fact, this was even wilder than LA.
The art show was at a beauty salon – so you could see the paintings straight or in the mirrors while getting a haircut.
So art is a reflection of life and in life, we had a reflection of the art which was a reflection of life which…
It’s good to get out of the house now and again 😉
c. GCYI