Colour bright

The jigsaw I’m doing at present is entitled “The Swinging Sixties”. It has a scene of London around Carnaby Street at the period. For younger readers Carnaby Street was the fashion centre of the world then, or so it seemed.

What really strikes you is the exuberance of the colours. There seemed a veritable explosion of colour at the time. The Fifties had been a very cream & beige time, now bright intense colour arrived. I find myself smiling. The very exuberance cheers me. Admittedly we did go a bit over the top in the sixties with some very luminous, clashing colour combinations when psychedelia arrived.

The other thing I remember so well is the white knee high boots. I was so envious of them. When I did finally get a pair I soon scuffed them, leaving black marks cutting through the white. And worn with them the oh so short mini skirts. Not the thing for me to wear these days with my knee braces & grey hair.

The 60s did seem a time of hope & energy. That’s not to say it was entirely wonderful. It was also the time of anti-Vietnam protests too. It was, though, a time to be young, the new creature a teenager, in this country. It was the time of the “Buy British” campaign & the Union Jack flew on everything & everywhere, as seen in this jigsaw.

I suppose to some extent the vividness of the colour in my memory is partly because I was young then, & when you’re young you seem to live life so much intensely.

I sometimes wonder if everybody, however old they are, has their period when things seem in brilliant technicolour & full of hope. I like to bet you that time was when they were teenagers, when they were discovering their place in the world & the possibilities seemed endless. Reality sets in later.