The women before us, who were considered, or considered themselves Bohemian, swore like fishermen’s wives, were never punctual, and, really, could have cared less about cleanliness. They tended to let their underarm hair grow, never wore deodorant, wore great splashes of patchouli, and loved to shock the ‘norm’ of society. They had their own social norms and most were, for their day, shocking.
They were in to free love, free body, free children, loved Anais Nin’s erotica and Jack Kerouac. They were feminists, radicals, and were deeply into My body/my Mind/My life with little consideration to others or the whole. They believed in liberating their inner beasts and worshipped Gaia and the realm of animals, mountains, trees, ponds, passionate sex, yoga eating wild grasses and deeply desired being at one with nature in a childlike way. They repelled adulthood, dogmas and morals.
They were the women who began to seriously question authority, challenge belief systems, saw anything organized as habit, and thought we had all been programmed, conditioned, and meek. They were anything but meek.
They began to be the mememememe generation, doing what they wanted, living the way they wanted, being as creative as they wanted, challenging everything society had as norms. They were, of course, the radicals. And, I think there are no true bohemians any more. I think the hippy dippy of the 60s toned things down with the overriding call of peace, love, freedom in different ways.
So, now I think about it. I am not a true bohemian. Perhaps I am as much a bohemian as I was/am a want-to-be hippy.
©Carol Desjarlais 6.3.21
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