Mostly, I miss the pants. The big wide bell bottoms were the most flattering jeans I ever had. They made my legs look longer and my hips narrower.
From the year my son was born — 1969 — and for the next few years, fashion and I were simpatico.
I was young. I wore big bell bottoms. The patchwork jeans were my favorites, although at the end of the day. I looked like I had been sitting on a waffle iron.
My shirts had fringes. Purple fringes.
I wore granny glasses with rose-tinted lenses. My hair was cut in a shag. I had my baby in a sling on my hip, a Leica on my shoulder and a song in my heart (probably the Beatles). That was a good as it got for me.
I miss the clothing. I really miss the Leica.
Mostly, I want my bell bottoms back!