Fashion, like the hula hoop, comes around to remind us of younger days and simpler pleasures. In the Sixties, Sonny and Cher were artists, Jackie was the queen of Camelot and wrongs could be righted with peace and love, man. We learned.
Designers, it appears, haven't learned. At the spring collections in New York, there were resurrections of hippy bell-bottom pants, bubble hairdos, and silly neo-psychedelic patterns. A patchwork of clothes to make former flower children cringe.
On the very hip and the very thin the old looks look fresh and new, but if you remember Nancy Sinatra's boots, just walk away and don't look back.