The sixties, I was aged between six and sixteen, they were the longest decade I remember, time goes so slowly, when you're young. They started off when I wasn't a fully formed thing, just at the grub stage really. I've had a long think about everything that resonated and hopefully have put them into some sort of chronological order, bear in mind important things went right over my head and I was mainly obsessed with the facile and the superficial.
I remember writing "1960" in my school exercise book and we were told this is the beginning of a new decade. I could read by that time so had begun my journey in working my way through Enid Blyton's lengthy catalogue. I guess I was aware of a few things beyond my world.
There was a man called Harold McMillan who I learned was a Prime Minister, he looked like a bloodhound, sort of serious and sad.
There was another man called Eisenhower who was a President of a big important country called America.
There were things that went into outer space called sputniks
Then a man called Yuri Gagarin who went up into outer space too, he was Russian, they were kind of enemies.
There were men who roamed around called Teddy Boys, they were scary, they didn't look like either teddies or boys and had a lot of grease on their hair.
There was someone called Elvis Presley who sang and also had grease on his hair. I didn't like him, but years later I did, by which time he was dead.
We were forced to drink school milk, I hate milk, still do 
I was also forced to have a beret plonked on my head when we went to mass on Sunday, because girls and women had to cover their heads back then, I always said "why" but never got a satisfactory answer.
On the upside I got 2/6 pocket money on Saturdays which I spent pretty much on sweets, it's a miracle I still have all my own teeth, my brother and I spent the morning at children's Saturday Morning Cinema.
My brother gave me lifts on the back of his bike, we fell off together, I chipped a tooth, my mum said "oh dear! you'll never be an air hostess now"
Then there was another President in America which seemed to make my parents happy because he was young and a catholic, we were a catholic family.
Apparently there could have been a world war because of something called the Cuban Missile Crisis but I knew nothing about it. The young president was a hero when he faced off the Russians.
Then something terrible happened he was assassinated and he died, my mum cried.
I became a Brownie and much later on a girl guide but only briefly because they had hats like air hostesses and if I wasn't going to be one because I'd chipped a tooth, but I did get it capped later, anyway at least I got to wear the hat
Happier day! Yeah! yeah! yeah! The Beatles had arrived, they burst into being and my world seemed less dreary, even my parents liked them. I got a record player for my birthday and then both their first two albums for Christmas. At last something decent to listen to in the house instead of classical music and opera.
I wanted to look like a Ronette around this time, but was too young for eyeliner, so I just spent ages backcombing my hair in front of the mirror.
There was a lot of snow one winter, it went on and on and we, my brother and I were packed off to school looking like idiots with scarves wrapped around our heads and our school hats on top. I think we wore wellingtons every day as well.
Someone called Christine was in the news causing a kerfuffle, everyone appeared to be talking about her, and it seemed to me that grown ups seemed to hush their voices at the mention of her name.
I was fully immersed in my adoration of The Beatles, so nothing else really mattered, It seemed Paul McCartney had a girlfriend called Jane Asher, I wanted to be her and look like her.
All change! around '64 another Harold was
in charge of the country, Wilson this time complete with raincoat and pipe. I was only really aware of him through Mike Yarwood's sublime impressions, any interest in politics was years away, I didn't understand the dynamics and far too preoccupied with my love of The Beatles who had just launched a Hard Day's Night what bliss our idols had made a film, no separate performances in those days, just turned up whenever, sometimes in the middle of the film and watched it around till when you came in and way beyond.
The power of advertising - Smiths Had Crispness In The Bag, loved them, not least of all for the little blue package of salt!
Meanwhile, The Beatles, had followed up Hard Days Night with Help, back to the cinema for more innumerable performances.
A programme called Crossroads was launched, which made me want to live in a motel, or at least holiday in one.
A couple of terrible happenings - The Moors Murders and Aberfan that saw my mum crying again. All those innocent children 
I broke my right arm, falling out of a tree in juniors, I had to write with my left, very spidery and the head teacher told me my writing was appalling, she clearly didn't understand the concept of mitigating circumstances 
Off to senior school, the best thing about that was we had desks with lift up lids, into which went pin ups, starting with Paul McCartney.
Two more dreadful assassinations, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy
George Harrison married Patti Boyd in the registry office of my home town. I wanted to look and be Patti Boyd, even her slightly protruding teeth, she looked wonderful whatever she wore.
I was heavily influenced by publications such as Petticoat, Jackie and Rave magazines.
I had a job after school helping in a grocery shop up the road from my house, I saved up for a pair of boots other than that splurged much of the money on Mary Quant make up. Friends and I went up to London on Saturdays to moon about Carnaby Street and Kings Road wishing we had money to buy what was on offer.
A friend and I found John Lennon's house in Weybridge, a miracle really no Google maps then. Anyway he wasn't there but we got to see the big Chelsea boot in the garden. I never wanted to look like Yoko Ono.
Inside my desk at school Paul McCartney had been replaced by Scott Walker.
Then this manufactured poor man's Beatles arrived from America called The Monkees, Scott Walker picture came down out of my desk and up went Davy Jones. Samantha Juste, Micky Dolenz girlfriend opened a boutique in my town. I wanted to be and look like Samantha Juste, she had a great job putting records on TOTP, in retrospect though she probably had to sit next to Jimmy Saville when he was on, so possibly not so great 
Thursday was the best night on the telly, once that boring Tomorrow's World had shifted off, TOTP, followed by The Men From Uncle. I remember Sonny and Cher appearing on it. I wanted to look like Cher, but didn't want to be her because she was married to Sonny.
My parents often watched what was described as satire on tv, That Was The Week That Was, followed by The Frost Report and eventually Monty Python, I think I developed a taste for such humour around that time.
The age of psychedelia and Flower Power found us all living in a Yellow Submarine, looking a Whiter Shade of Pale with Flowers in our Hair. How I loved that dreamy WSofP it seemed to be number 1 forever.
Meanwhile we were studying Romeo and Juliet for English Literature at school and our teacher took us to see the Franco Zeffirelli film, our nuns had an apoplexy when they found out there was a nude scene. I came away wanting to look like and to be Olivia Hussey, beautiful skin and hair. They also found out that some of us had been to see Hair, more nudity and more apoplexies for them. Whilst wanting to look like Olivia Hussey I veered between wanting to have her hair and Marsha Hunt's she was so beautiful.
Friends and I crept in under age to see our first X rated film, Bonnie and Clyde, well all fell instantly in love with Warren Beatty. Davy Jones was removed from my desk lid with apologies and replaced with Warren, well be was taller, so that was that! I wanted to look and be Faye Dunaway it was the high cheekbones, I hunted down my discarded Sunday Mass beret and spent time in front of the mirror wearing it and sucking my cheeks in, still didn't look like her though 
I scoured publications such as NME and Melody Maker, it seemed the epi centre of the music world had shifted away from England and off to the West Coast of America. I was beginning to like a lot of those sounds in particular The Doors, Jim Morrison, a thoroughly bad lot was also somewhat of a heart throb and I shifted Warren along in my desk to make room for him!
I loved the cinema, huge films that made an impression were Dr Zhivago, Funny Girl and Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid, Far The Madding Crowd, once again I veered between wanting to look like Julie Christie and Barbra Striesand.
Men landed on the Moon
Woodstock
The Beatles broke up

The decade ended violently with the awful murder of Sharon Tate.
I realise that although I eulogise the sixties, it wasn't really my decade at all, because I was too young for any of it, boyfriends, work and spending ability, travel, leaving home, marriage, house buying all came in the 70, but it's the 60s I remember with such fondness even though, for me it was pretty uneventful.