Fashion is heading into an era I am so in love with: the 70’s. If I could ask God to send me back in time, I’d humbly request to live as a hot, young red head in the late 70’s. From the fashion, disco music, to the infamous Studio 54 parties, the late 70’s was an opening to women and gay liberation. The late 70’s administered a new level of self-love, and was an entrance to the acceptance of individuality. People actually wanted to see the weird and different. Normal was just boring and overrated. The conservative consensus of the country finally opened its canal to a new state of mind with so many negative outbreaks happening, from wars to various protests. Women were also breaking away from being submissive to men’s demands once the government approved birth control. It was like women finally had a chance to say, “Kiss my ass, I don’t want your baby.”
Could you imagine living in an age where celebrities and ordinary people party together? I don’t mean VIP sections and ropes. It was utterly everyone who was anyone with an eclectic style or personality on the dance floor having a groovy time. Ordinary, everyday people were inspiring designers and celebs while happy substances were being shared like favors! That’s sheer, awesome tranquility. Party-goers flocked to Studio 54 to get an opportunity to not only rub elbows with stars like Micheal Jackson, Andy Warhol and David Bowie. I know I’m sharing a lot of history, but fashion is history baby! If life were still so simple with less social-standard boundaries, we’d live in a much better place!
This period in fashion and music history is the ultimate nirvana. Everyone wanted to dance, feel high and have a good time. People weren’t stuck, glued to their cell blocks (aka cellphones) watching moments of the past, people actually lived in the moment. I miss living in the moments. Not saving the moments for others and their standards or expectations of what my moments should look like. I like to do what I want, when I want leaving a trail of golden glitter behind.
But more than anything, I’d love to revisit the late 70’s for the carefreeness and less pressures of perfection. Seriously, when else would loads of blue shadow over a naked face, false lashes and big hair be accepted? Now, everything in life is so focused on being perfect, we’re missing out on the beauty of life. This is the hardest and biggest pill I’ve had to take: I don’t care about the perfection anymore. I’ve spent years wasting on perfection only to realize I’m the farthest thing from it. I don’t want perfection. I want beauty. Beauty inside as well as out is much more fun than just perfect. I save my perfect for Jesus. Give me beauty baby.
If the late 70’s didn’t teach us anything else, it taught us to live a zen life and not be afraid of bell-bottoms or blue shadow. There is no harm in striving for beauty, its the perfection that slowly kills.
“What is perfection anyway?”
Fashionably Yours Forever,