I was born in 1969. The cool decade, apparently. I made may have technically made the sixties by 3 months, but they never managed to provide me with any sense of inherent 'coolness'. The sixties to me were just the time my parents ran around looking pretty much like young people do today.
My nana explained to me once that 'patchwork' evolved as a way of making use of clothing that had worn out in certain places. These days, these type of 'useful' trends are everywhere. My time has come ! It's the age of grandma chic !.
Suddenly, my weird old habits are funky. I'm not old-fashioned, I'm eccentric. I'm not strange, I'm natural. I love this !. My enormous, batted blue volkswagen bus has become the ultimate reverse status symbol. Well, blow me over with a feather, but I'm cool !.
My young neighbours think my taste is music is fabulously 'retro', environmentalists think I rock because I clean my house with stuff like bi-carb soda and lemon juice. Young women in the street stop me to adore my Yardley 'April Violets' perfume, and even my disinterest in co-ordinating my clothing has become a fashion statement.
Although i'm paradoxically typing these words into the most modern of communication methods, I have little other taste for modern things beyond the electronic.
My closet is stuffed with 60yo linen sheets dating from when my great grandma ran a 'boarding house' as a widow with 7 kids during wartime. They have been bleached, boiled, and handed down for years, and to this day my guests ask me where I got the beautiful linen sheets.
I like old stuff. Englebert Humperdincks' 'A Man Without Love' is one of the best things my father ever taught me. For around 30 years it's been my favourite song. I adore Burt Bacharach and am even partial to a little Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. These used be be shameful things to admit. Welcome to granny chic.
It seems now i can do no wrong. Knitted purses ?. Fabulous !. Furry slippers ?. Divine !. Scarves ?. Heavenly !. Casseroles ?. Oh, SO Oprah !. Growing herbs ?. An utter must for the modern kitchen, darling. Sewing ?. Gorgeously original of you. Home-cooking ?. Very now. I can't lose, I tell you. I'm the height of modern grandma chic.
And whist this faddy world will no doubtless soon leave me in it's 'so five minutes ago' wake, for now I am enjoying the ride. Long live 'April Violets' !.