Hippies Are Fun to See, Like Meeting Locals on Vacation

"Prithy, m'lord, could'st thou speak unto
mine countenance, as mine bosom has
grown a bit deaf of late."

I saw a girl the other day wearing some odd half-slit flowing skirt and what I can only describe as a bodice over a pastel-toned, mass-produced, faux-tie-dye, hyphen-laden peasant blouse. Her mother wore something that would not have been out of place either at Woodstock '69 or Germany 1520.

What, is the Ren Faire in town?

No, that's out of season. At least the local one, is. You'd have to drive pretty far to get to the other one, it's not even in New York state, and that's the better of the two. (The Sterling one.)

So you dress yourself in the dark or something?

Hardly. The corset strings to that bodice might have even required an additional pair of hands, though the girl appeared the type experienced enough to achieve usefully claustrophobic knots on her own.

She was just weird. And goddess bless her for it, we need more interesting people and more bodices in the world.

'Course there was another hippie girl  in last week who appeared as though she had not showered in several days, and smelled as though it had been several weeks, at least from a half-dozen paces, so, yeah, probably don't need any more of those hippies. The bathed ones, sure, though.