As my
latest book, Storm Clouds Gathering is set in 1965 I thought
it would be great fun to take a peek at that amazing era. This week Author, Gilli Allan joins The Hippie Shake
and shares some of the memories and pics that represent that wonderful era, the
1960’s.
1965 - a life-changing year in a great decade
I don’t usually like to admit it because it makes me very
old, but I’m a baby boomer, one of that ‘lucky’ generation who passed through
their teenage years and became young adults in the 1960s. Born in 1948, I can well remember the
dreariness and austerity of the 1950s. It was a black and white world, where
bombsites were commonplace, the milk was delivered by horse and cart and trains
were still steam driven. TV was one channel only and our set had a 7 inch
screen. And I recall having to wear liberty
bodices and leggings, with hundreds of fiddly buttons. The new decade, which coincided with my move from
primary to grammar school, was like the sun coming out.
In fact the decade started badly for me. In 1961, when I was not yet thirteen, I was
involved in a serious accident. Crossing the road outside our house I was
knocked down by a van. I could easily
have been killed, but, apart from remaining unconscious for several days, I
escaped with only minor injuries. Afterwards my family joked that it was the
knock on my head that switched on my hormones. From having a ‘take or leave it’
attitude to boys and pop music before my accident, I became suddenly aware.
I regularly developed crushes on neighbourhood lads and the drop-ceiling
above my bed was adorned with cut out pictures of the pop stars I admired. I went for looks first - their songs were
almost incidental - and Jess Conrad and James Darren were favourites. That was
until the Beatles. Loving the Beatles took over my life from 1963 onwards. I
was obsessed. And George Harrison was my favourite. From being dotted with a
few photos, my drop-ceiling became smothered by my idols.
Aged 16, I left school in 1965, after O levels. In the 6 week break, before I started Art College ,
I worked in Dickins & Jones, in London ’s
Regent Street . Apart from mini-skirts, which had only just
hit the high-street and were worn no shorter than 4 inches above the knee, the
prevailing fashion theme that summer was for white PVC macs, worn with those
calf-length white boots with cut-outs (first shown by Courrege, in 1964, I
believe). This look was universal. Every
young woman in London ,
it seemed, had a white PVC mac. But I’ve
always been a bit of a rebel. I didn’t
want to wear what everyone else was wearing and anyway couldn’t afford this
fashion garment. My older sister and I
went to a chandlery (name forgotten) in Albermarle Street , which sold sailing equipment
and sailing ephemera. We both bought the far cheaper oilskin mackintoshes. Hers was red and mine was yellow, and I wore the
accompanying sou’wester back to front because I thought it looked better!
When I arrived at Croydon
Art College
in the September of 1965, lacy stockings (tights had yet to come in), corduroy,
mini-skirts and Anello & Davide buttoned tap-dance shoes were what all the
trendiest female students were wearing. But
what wasn’t quite so acceptable for an art student of the time, was to love the
Beatles. The Rolling Stones, the Who, the Spencer Davis Group, the Kinks - Ray
Davis had actually attended Croydon
Art College
- were all more recent, more raucous and more overtly rebellious, and therefore
had far more credibility. I didn’t dislike these bands - I just kept in the closet about my love for
the Beatles and the fact I was a member of the fan club and still received their
annual Christmas fan club record.
At the time it was common for people in the advertising
industry to produce their own Christmas cards.
My dad was the art director in an advertising agency and he designed our
family card, but it was an annual nightmare for him. The air would frequently
turn blue as my stressed and over-worked father struggled to come up with an
idea, to find the time to actually sit down and produce the design, and then to
get it printed in time to catch the last post before Christmas. At the end of my first term at Art College ,
and full of confidence in my own abilities, I volunteered to design the family
card. My father accepted with much relief and I’ve done it ever since.
But.... were the 1960s so great? The decade in which you grow from childhood
into independence must always seem special.
After all, it’s the time when your hormones begin to ferment and the
future looks full of romance, potential and excitement. I’ve long thought that favourite records are
often so powerfully potent, not because of any intrinsic superiority in musicality
(after all, they’re often cheesy and derided by others), but because you were
exposed to a particular song at a time when you were more thin-skinned and
receptive to the world around you. A song that touches you at such a time, when
your emotions are in turmoil, will resonate more deeply within you and remain
with you, maybe for life. And the same is true of your feelings about the
decade in which you became an adult.
All that aside, I believe the 1960s were especially great! And 1965 was a crucial life-changing year
for me.
A little about Gilli…
Growing up in Orpington ,
Kent , my
hobbies were drawing and writing ‘books’.
School and I didn’t get on and, as soon as I was able to, I left and
went on to Art College .
I originally worked as an illustrator, in advertising. I only began writing again, with the serious
intention of being published, when I was married and at home with my young son.
I write contemporary romantic fiction with an edge, or
‘Reality Romance’. My first two novels -
Just Before Dawn and Desires & Dreams - were ‘mainstream’ published, but
these days I publish independently. I have two novels - TORN and LIFE CLASS - currently available
as e-books and in paperback. FLY OR FALL
is coming soon.
I now live in a village, at the head of a beautiful valley
in the Cotswold Hills , in
Gloucestershire. Still a keen artist I
draw and paint, design Christmas cards and regularly attend a weekly art class.
I’ve been a school governor, a contributor to local newspapers and was one of
the initiators of the successful community shop in my village.
I wouldn’t be able to live the life I do without the support
- emotional and financial - of my husband.
Our clever son, Tom, who was a toddler when I started in this game, has
put his Phd on hold and is currently working as Project Curator, for the
British Museum’s, 2014 ‘Vikings’ exhibition.
Gilli’s latest publication
Other Titles…
Torn
Fly or Fall – due out later this year
Gilli’s Links
twitter: @gilliallan
FB author page: http://www.facebook.com/GilliAllan.AUTHOR?bookmark_t=page
TORN: She may escape her old life but will she ever escape herself?
http://www.amazon.co.uk/TORN-ebook/dp/B004UVR81Y
LIFE CLASS: A story about art, life, love and learning lessons.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007XWFURQ
If you would like to join
in the fun of The Hippie Shake please leave a message
in the comment box so that I can contact you.
9 comments:
Oh what memories from Gilli. I wasn't a teenager until the seventies and by then mini skirt had risen to just covering the bottom and no more. Last year I did the A- Z challenge on the 60's & 70's and it was so good to be steeped in nostalgia for that era. Pauline's book also brought back many memories for me, I think the time you grew up in will always remain your favourite time. Lovely post.
Great post from Gilli! My memories of 65 are very childish ... boarding school (a Catholic convent in South India),missing home, grotty food and whingeing about having to go to Mass five times a week and say the rosary every night!
But I do remember kinky boots ... I had white ones made by a cobbler in Colombo, Ceylon. LOVED them and the pelmet sized mini skirts / dresses that my mother made for me.
Looking forward to the next Hippie Shake post!
Janna Gray
Hello Anne, Thanks for stopping by, and thanks for your lovely words on my latest book too. xx
Hi Janna, sounds like your 65 was different, but I bet there was some fab times too. x
Hi Gilli and Pauline, A fabulous blog post and it took me back. I was quite young in 1965 but really came into my own in the sixth form in 1967 - 69. Then anything seemed possible. I was keen to get to Teacher Training College and leave home (and a very persistent boyfriend behind). Life was so proscribed in those days - home from 'the dancing' by 10.30pm, no going out in the week, finish your homework, help with the cleaning and looking after my younger siblings. But my memories of the clothes etc are very similar to Gillis except I think by 1969 we were very 'flower power' Love and Peace Man. Wouldn't change those days for anything and, of course, when I went to Teacher Training College I met my future husband there and we are celebrating 40 years married this August. Cool.
Thanks for all the comments. I was only 18 when the hippy flower power thing came in, Lizzie, and the Beatles opened the Apple shop in Baker Street. I took to it all like a duck to water. I was particularly keen on the maxi (my legs were NOT made for mini skirts!)and recall the winter of '68 wearing a long grey herring bone coat that I'd bought at a school uniform sale, knee length (probably plastic, as I had no money) boots and a grey muff I'd made from an off-cut of grey faux fur. Very Dr Zhivago!
Love your 60s recollections, Gilli! I was a litle younger than you but my brother and sister were 9 and 10 years older so introduced me to the Beatles etc.
Wow Gilli, such memories! I used to subscribe to The Beatles Monthly Magazine, it was a 'must have' in our class! We all had small posters and cut outs sellotaped to the inside of our desk lids too. In 1964 the Beatles were filming Help in the West Country. One morning their train went through the local station where some of the girls were waiting. As you can imagine getting a glimpse of J,P,G & R made them the envy of the school!
What a fantastic close encounter, Jo. I have an even more sickening one. A girl from my year was an extra on A Hard Days Night. And she was in the audience for a Beatles only episode of Ready Steady Go. She wasn't just saying it, I saw her! Oh, how I hated her!
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