Mondays for Me ~ No, I Wasn’t a Hippy

My-Story-This-is-my-storyThe purpose of this blog is to document the stories of my life. When I am gone my children, grandchildren and great-grandchild will have the memories of my life written by me. I am excited to begin this journey.

While growing up my three children used to always respond to their friends when asked where they got their names from with, “My mom was a hippy”. Later in life, they became even more convinced that I had been one when they saw some photos of me in my teens. I tried to explain about the photographs, but they were never convinced.

Evidence #1:  I named my children unusual names. My oldest son I named Pleasant. He is named for my Grandfather and Great Grandfather, but that didn’t convince him otherwise. My youngest son I named Starr Douglas. Douglas was after my dad, but I named him Starr because I wanted to keep the tradition of unusual names. My daughter, I named Jerusha. I heard the name when I was 12 years old in the movie Hawaii and I loved it.

 

Conclusion: No proof of being a hippy. The act of naming your children with unconventional names doesn’t mean you’re a “hippy”.

 

Evidence #2: Some photographs they saw of me in “hippy” attire. Because of my Indianupbringing of being almost totally ignored by my parents and sister, I had a habit of doing things to get attention. When we moved from Arizona to painted shortsIndependence Missouri in 1967, I didn’t fit in with the kids at school. I talked “with a weird accent”, my style of clothes was different, and I didn’t like the strange foods they served in the cafeteria. So, instead of fitting in I deliberately tried to stand out. I loved the TV show “The Monkees” (Davy Jones!!!). They dressed different so I adopted this style. My one friend and I would paint our facesme and darrell in multicolored shapes with brightly colored cream eye shadow and go to the town square and walk around. We definitely got attention! I also used paint to decorate my jean shorts in flowers and peace symbols. My cousin and I talked my Aunt into making us Nehru jackets. She was a professional seamstress and could make anything! I was once sent home from school in Junior High for wearing the cloth belt from my dress as a headband!

 

Conclusion: No proof that I ever adopted the hippy lifestyle, all of the above was done to get attention and to have fun.

 

Santa Monica BeachEvidence #3: In 1969 my family moved to Santa Monica California. We lived 7 blocks from the beach, and I spent every moment there I could. I wore a lime green bikini that had purple polka dots on it. I grew my hair long; it was past my waist. I wore big floppy hats and bell bottoms. Again, my old photos and my stories convinced my children of my being a “hippy”! My oldest son told me he had read all about the “Summer of Love” that took place in ‘69 and that was proof enough for him! I was guilty of liking “hippy” music, I danced like one, and I had the lingo down…. Groovy.

me long hair

Conclusion: No proof because almost all 14-19 year-olds liked the music of the late ‘60’s back then. The clothes were fun and comfortable, and bikinis were the norm at the beach. The long hair was the style of the day and it was a big improvement over the pixie cuts my mother had me wear growing up. No proof that this made me a hippy.

 

My children have now passed on the idea of “hippy” Grandma to the Grandkids. However, they all think it is “Cool Man”.

 

View the photos and decide for yourselves!!!

 

 

cropped-blog-pic1.jpgI am a professional genealogist, writer, photographer, wife, mother, and grandma. I have two books available on Amazon.com: Your Family History: Doing It Right the First Time and Planning Your Genealogy Research Trip. You can also connect with me via Facebook or Twitter.

14 Comments

Filed under Ancestry, California, Family History, Family Search, Fun, Genealogy, Memories, Missouri, Monday's For Me, Personal Stories, Story telling, Uncategorized, Write Your Story

14 responses to “Mondays for Me ~ No, I Wasn’t a Hippy

  1. Yep, I had the long hair and the bell-bottom jeans. Real hippies lived across the hall from me in the ramshackle Victorian house that I lived in while attending college. The smell of marijuana drifted into the hall from their apartment.

  2. I had to laugh when reading this. My kids say the same thing! Just because we grew up in the 60’s, wore the popular clothes of the time, maybe put some flowers in our hair doesn’t mean we were Hippies! I prefer Love Child anyway 🙂

  3. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. :-)))

  4. Great choices on the names, always like the unusual. Using family names helps keep them alive. I don’t think you’re a hippy, but I’m jealous you were only blocks from the beach.

  5. Your pist made me laugh. If only kids today had as much fun as we did. Visiting from #geneabloggers

  6. Fun post! Your story illustrates how thoroughly the hippie aesthetic pervaded the popular culture. Even fashion designers of the day used flower and peace motifs on the runway. So why not accept the “hippie” label proudly as an emblem of the era? I know I have.

  7. I also grew up in the 60’s and lived about 40 miles from San Francisco so we were associated with the “hippies”. Our favorite attire was the white “hullaboo” boots. Somewhere I have a photo with me in my favorite boots.

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