The joys of springcleaning

Once upon a time, long, long ago in the days when the world was innocent enough to allow hitch-hiking and Zimbabwe exported things other than large-scale human misery, my friend Caroline and I spent a few happy weeks there doing... well, nothing in particular. The photographs were lost years ago, but one of the many joys of springcleaning is discovering forgotten treasures hidden away in cupboards I've been too scared to look in the eye for months. Years, even. So I was pleased to rediscover this beauty, which I dimly recall buying in Bulawayo:

I actually *wore* this one:

Which may go some way towards explaining these:

Yep, I actually wore those. In public. Many times even, if the fading is any guide (can you imagine what they looked like *before* the fading?). I always disclaimed being a hippy but my goodness, the evidence is not in my favour. Take this psychedelic number I bought a few years later in Tanzania in a fit of slightly misguided enthusiasm and have never actually used:

My brother says the central bit looks a bit too fangy for comfort. I never saw it before, but he's right.