Hey there guys! The name's Mare, I'm a vintage/history enthusiast who is currently on the journey of a lifetime otherwise known as "Your Twenties". Currently living in South Jersey, figuring it all out.
On December 31st, 2019, I went to work. My uniform then consisted of black pants, and a black shirt that read "CLD BRW SZN" on the back. I was enthusiastic for the start of a new decade, and so dolled myself up in makeup reminiscent of 1920s flapper girls. I tied a large bow around my head and tucked my hair underneath to create the illusion of a bob haircut. I walked into the coffee shop I worked at back then, brimming with excitement and delight. "I'm dressed for the occasion!" I exclaimed with joy. No one really wanted to be at work that night, but the special occasion of a holiday such as New Years, one that we all recognize and collectively take part in, takes the edge off of a nine hour shift.
It's a simple scene, you're home alone on a rainy day in the middle of the week. Your work for the day is done, you've turned in all of your assignments and have already made the careful transition into your comfort clothes a la Mr. Rogers. You put the kettle on, and while the water heats up you ponder over which brand of black tea you'd like this evening. Once your tea is ready and you've lit some candles, you head over to the couch to sit down and slide into the blankets. The raindrops hit your windows one by one, softly like the tiny beats of a drum. You settle into this calm environment, one that you've created all your own. Just out of the corner of your eye, you swear that you can just faintly make out the sprinklings of golden dust flittering about the room...
I have always felt a great love for life. Here's the thing: Life after high school is strange. You're told it's going to be all fun, that you're going to discover who you are and make big changes that will impact your life forever. But no one ever tells you just how confusing it all is.
There's no doubt that the aesthetic of the 1960s and 1970s has become increasingly popular over the last three years, with Instagram absolutely flooded with people from all over mimicking the mods and the rockers in fabulous ways, not to mention the sudden flood of films devoted to 60s and 70s rock bands such as Yesterday, Bohemian Rhapsody, and Rocketman. Yes, vintage is most certainly "in" right now, but between the high prices on Etsy and long uniform clad work days that prevent us from being able to show our true colors, how is anyone meant to keep up?
Hold my hand over a flameAnd tell me when to pull awayI'm nothing without your guiding voiceYou make me feel like loving you isn't a choice
So, by this day in age on the internet, I would like to assume that everyone and their mother has heard of the term "manic pixie dream girl." However, if by some chance you've been living under a rock for the last few years, I'll give you the low down. The term was coined by film critic Nathan Rabin after watching Elizabethtown starring Kirsten Dunst. Rabin describes this character trope as "that bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures." So basically, a manic pixie dream girl is this wildly interesting girl who just so happens to have no real backstory or purpose, other than to show the male protagonist that life is awesome! It's really worth living! But the girl herself... is rather empty.
As I sit here damp with tears I attempt to throw away my fears I set my sights on a girl of gold The girl I'd like to be before I'm old
I was 13 years old the first time I saw The Beatles movie, Help! Before sitting down with a good friend of mine to watch this zany film, I had only been a casual fan of the Fab Four. Sure, I knew all the songs off of Abbey Road and Let It Be, but doesn't every kid whose parents were born in the 1960s? Regardless, I have always been a pop culture fanatic and 13-year-old me was no exception, so I was eager to see the film. As I laughed at those four Liverpudlian lads, really seeing their faces and not just hearing their voices for the first time, I started to feel the rumblings of what would go on to become a lifelong love affair with music and the 1960s.