Music was vital in my home since forever. My parents couldn’t function without it. But I remember an afternoon out of the ordinary. My mom and dad had taken out a couple of records and were listening to them over and over, louder than usual.

I took one of the covers to take a closer look: four young men looked down from a balcony, sporting short hair and blazers. They seemed “normal.”

The other side, however, displayed four men looking down from the same balcony, only this time they sported long hair and beards, and I remember thinking they were totally different people.

–Is the one they killed here? I asked.
–Yes, that’s him- my father replied while pointing towards one of the young men.

I turned the record cover around and asked:

–And is he here?
–Yes, that’s him- he said, as he pointed to one of the young men.
–Why does he have long hair and a beard here? I enquired.
–Because he’s already become a hippie by then- my mom said.

That Tuesday afternoon, on December 9, while my parents paid their own private tribute to John Lennon, I understood the meaning of Fashion and of what appearances could communicate. It was unusual to see long-haired and bearded men in Chile at that time. They seemed a different kind of people. They were!

“We, of that time, are no longer the same,” wrote Pablo Neruda once. For me, Fashion makes that affirmation tangible.

A few days later, while my grandmother read a book, I looked at a small bust of Christ she kept over the shelf and asked her:
-Was Jesus a hippie too?

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