Aroma of Damp Hippy
On Saturday, I was told off for complaining about “filthy hippies” and their “filthy hippy smell”. This happened while making a doomed attempt to find some Sardinian buckwheat pasta (which may or not be called Malloreddus) at Planet organic. In my defence, I would like to point out that Planet Organic in Bayswater is always full of anaemic, bourgeoisie hippies who whilst they may not actually look filthy, do actually stink. I am sorry, but my nose can tell the difference between patchouli and dirt.
As for the store itself, I have to suppress a mild gag reflex every time I first walk in and traverse the bit of it that serves as some sort of café. The food looks good, so I can only assume the stench comes from the patrons, especially as it always seems worse on a day when it has been raining. I personally find aroma of damp hippy is as unpleasant a stench as fresh cow excrement.
As part of my telling off, it was pointed out to me that I look a bit like a “filthy hippy or Michael Caine in Children of Men” in my publicity photo. In the usual way of all harsh truth, this hurt. It might have even had a slight influence my decision to pick up a Generation X CD for a £1 from Fopp. However, I think it was the Kir Royales that influenced me spending a portion of Saturday night dancing in the front room like the aged madman I am to GenX’s version of Gimme Some Truth. As Mr. Idol would say:
‘If I had the chance
I’d ask the world to dance…’
As for the store itself, I have to suppress a mild gag reflex every time I first walk in and traverse the bit of it that serves as some sort of café. The food looks good, so I can only assume the stench comes from the patrons, especially as it always seems worse on a day when it has been raining. I personally find aroma of damp hippy is as unpleasant a stench as fresh cow excrement.
As part of my telling off, it was pointed out to me that I look a bit like a “filthy hippy or Michael Caine in Children of Men” in my publicity photo. In the usual way of all harsh truth, this hurt. It might have even had a slight influence my decision to pick up a Generation X CD for a £1 from Fopp. However, I think it was the Kir Royales that influenced me spending a portion of Saturday night dancing in the front room like the aged madman I am to GenX’s version of Gimme Some Truth. As Mr. Idol would say:
‘If I had the chance
I’d ask the world to dance…’
Labels: Filthy Hippies
posted by David at 11:53 AM
8 Comments:
i'm a lot older than you, so i have no problem with hippies. although anything that urges you to buy a GenX cd can't be all that bad.
Yeah, I know the exact smell, it's awful, isn't it?
I used to hang out with bikers in The Mardyke in Bristol when I was a teenager, who also used patchouli, but the hippy version is definitely different. Ack. Not that biker-smell was much better, but hot motor oil and leather smells a bit better than just patchouli cut with BO.
GC, you are not that much older than me.
As a teenager I subscribed to the teaching: ‘Never Trust a hippy’. Although my dislike has mellowed over the years (despite having to suffer no end of self-righteousness and New Age bollocks whenever I have spent any time with individual, self-labeled hippies) I still find them patronising, full of weak logic and smelly. You are right Chandira, patchouli, hot oil and leather is definitely preferable to plain old patchouli and BO.
We must have known different hippies. Where i grew up, they were into music, long hair, bellbottoms and having a good time via the use of several kinds of controlled substances. I didn't even run across the "new age" thing til i moved to LA in the 80s, and those people were most definitely not hippies.
I'm a decade older than you are, i believe.
It may be an English hippy thing. English hippies tended to turn into Richard Branson or delude themselves it was 1973 when it was clearly 1984.
My husband was an original hippie (Haight-Ashbury, Summer of Love, all that). He smells very nice. Read my review of Alice's Restaurant to get a sense of what hippies really are. Better yet, watch the movie.
It is a great review and it brought back memories of seeing the film when I was 14. I have no problem with Haight-Ashbury, Summer of Love, Jimmie Hendrix hippies and I owe a huge debt to the counterculture they helped birth, but when it comes to the hippies I have personally encountered, Jamie Reid got it right.
Hmm, still kocking yourself- well, at least you do not stink like hippie!
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