Addicted to Summer of Love

The twice-yearly Lucky 50% off sale is going on now and I have to say I was a little underwhelmed by the offrerings. So, while I did buy these versatile black walking shorts,$30, I had just not fully satisfied my craving for 70's, hippie, boho chic. And, like adorable kittens and small children, addictions, too, must be fed.

I do dig this crochet-fabulous top for $25.50 at Urban Outfitters. Think of it as a nicotine patch - a boho-chicatine patch, if you will.

That Seventies Bikini

In case you didn't heed me when I urged your purchase of that seventies shirt, the shirt that replicated the groovy decor of my cousins' Brooklyn bedroom, and have been beating yourself up about it every day since (with the occasional day of to celebrate a holiday or mark the new tv season), here is your chance to purchase that seventies bikini. Only $15 each piece! (Don't you hate when you see a two-piece that you like at a completely reasonable price, only to realize that that is the price for the top alone? I knew you did.)

Luckier Intersection

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. This cami is where my love for the seventies and Amanda's love of color intersects - Venn diagram, anyone? $10!

Belt Dy-No-Mite

I got this groovy belt at Anthroplogie's big sale for $8. I love the linkiness and the seventies-ness. I'm not quite loving that the purchase of this belt has sent me on a mission, scouring stores and sites for a nice sweater or dress or sweater dress to wrap this belt around. Who am I kidding? That's actually an added bonus.

Lookin' Good, Mr. Kot-ter

Not nearly as well-documented, but certainly as powerful, as my love of the seventies is my love of the sitcom. So you can imagine how I love me my seventies sitoms. I regularly watch Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart, Good Times. And I looove Rockford, which I know is not a sitcom, but, come on - it's Jim Rockford.


As a young child in the seventies, I was not allowed to watch certain, very popular shows. One might have thought it was because their language was crass. In fact, it was my mother who employed the crass language, labeling certain shows as "CRAP!" and therefore utterly out of bounds. First and foremost on the list of programs that would destroy my mind was "Welcome Back, Kotter," a show so "CRAP!" that I cannot bear to watch it even now, when I should be reveling in my freedom as an adult to break all the rules imposed upon me by utterly unfair parents (this rebellious attitude explains my close relationship with every sugared cereal ever created, including, but not limited to, Mr. T peanut butter cereal).

Regardless, the phrase, "lookin' good, Mr. Kotter" came to mind as soon as I saw these corduroys and I had to make them mine - as must you! OK, astute fans of the sitcom genre will recognize that quote from "Friends." (Oh my god, it is amazing there is room left in my brain to balance my checkbook. Ha ha ha, I make myself laugh with the claim that I balance my checkbook. Hee hee.)

That Seventies Room

When I was a kid, my two cousins in Brooklyn had the grooviest bedroom ever. And this was before Brooklyn was the groovy borough. The room was green and yellow. I don’t mean it had avocado and gold accents or flourishes. I mean the room was green and yellow incarnate. The walls were covered in a viney floral green and yellow wallpaper. The floor was stained green, the woodwork was green. One of my cousins, Amanda’s mother in fact, created an awesome green and yellow lamp from a pair of flowerpots, which sat on the inevitably green bureau. The ottoman in front of the world’s most awesome green vanity was upholstered in green vinyl (it doesn’t hurt that my uncle manufactures furniture). There was a pair identical green desks and green beds, with bedspreads that matched the groovy wallpaper. In short this was my idea of paradise here on earth, and when it was my turn to decorate my room, I tried to create an updated version this groovitude, but failed miserably, covering my walls and woodwork in a surgical scrubs green. And, really, who wants to wake up in the morning and mistake their bedroom for an OR?

So, naturally when I saw this shirt, I thought instantly of that gold and green seventies wonderland. This shirt really brings it all back, but with two beautiful shades of blue to update it. Now, I wasn’t that interested in the shirt at its initial price of $48. In fact, I was downright uninterested (not disinterested). At $18 though, I will have to buy it to relive that room’s glory days. Lucky is having a 50% off then another 25% off, which is a great workout for your elementary school math skills (hint… it’s not 75% off), so while you’re in there, look around and pick out some more groovy items.