Washblog

My husband, 3 friends and I had decided to wear something groovy, and make a night of reveling in 60s nostalgia. All of us were teenagers during that era.

We put together colorful retro garb - thrift shop stuff mixed with our own eclectic wardrobe pieces. I even wore a long hair fall under a blue-purple fantasy fall, mixed with flowers. I painted tiny Twiggy lashes under my eyes, like I used to back then, this time trying to avoid the wrinkles of course.

We sang "Hair" songs in the car and on the street, to the amused stares of onlookers. I expected to see a theater full of silly nostalgic Boomers in such garb, but no, we five were the only ones. This is the set:

True confession: I started crying right away when the songs began!!! Two glasses of wine, nostalgia, the beauty of these young people re-enacting the now-lost excited innocence of an explosive generation, the SAME friggin' immoral war depicted in the show being inflicted on us yet again (except for the draft part).

At intermission, I mopped up the puddle of black stuff under my eyes in the ladies' room. A woman from the show told me the young actors had said I was their favorite person EVER in the audience. They had noticed the group of us in the second row, and were thrilled to see "hippies in the audience"!!

Please support these terrific talented hard-working kids, and this wonderful little theater, as the director urged us to do. I have no connection to the production - just a fan. It's the same theater where I recently put on a late-night Mini-Fashion Show with a bunch of neighborhood bellydancers. I was asked to return in the fall with a bigger presentation.