Today’s twenty-year-olds perhaps don’t imagine that those of my generation, now grandmothers, were once girls full of life.
We wore very short miniskirts, tight pants, high boots, and we wore panties and bras because it was the norm and a custom.
We listened to Mari Trini, Mocedades, Las Grecas, Boney M, Los Chichos and Manolo Escobar.
We rode bicycles or Vespas, drank gin and tonic, whisky and vodka with Fanta.
We attended music festivals in the mud and gravel, dancing among the crowd, free or embraced in a slow dance.
We dreamed of loving and being loved, not of denouncing anyone for anything.
We lived very long days, spent in friends’ houses or basements, where we organized endless parties.
And there we fell in love, because we didn’t have the Internet, and we weren’t very interested in television.
And you know what?
You will never be as amazing as your grandmother was.
Someone had to tell you. Now you know.