Fondues, Corduroys and Key Parties!

If you recognize more than one of those three words then you were once probably knee-deep in the 70's revolution - a mix of afro-hairstyles, flared pants and solid-gold dancers.

That's how it was as I felt as though I revisited the 70's this past week, strolling through the suburb of Cooloongup just south of Perth.

Australian seventies homes are distinct. It doesn't matter how subsequent owners have tried to mask their home's past by rendering their walls and painting them white. Changing the texture and the colour doesn't hide what a 70's home is.

Back in the day, it was all about brown. Brown wallpaper, brown bed covers and brown tiles moved throughout kitchens and bathrooms.

Chunky brown brick, arch frontages and textured amber coloured glass windows featured in almost every one of these 70s homes. It was Australia's way of bringing a bit of the Mediterranean Downunder during the era of disco.

Timber, brick and mission brown became a canvass for leather lounge suites and lazy boys. Stereo systems were manufactured with rich mahogany or walnut veneers. It's hard to imagine all this darkness existing inside the homes of yesteryear but it served a purpose.

So I got to thinking why we accepted so much of it into what is a bright, cheery part of the world. Why live in a cave of brown when the blue, green and white outsides mock it so loudly.

I decided that it came down to the 70's Flake lady: Y'know, the chick pictured blowing a chocolate bar. Everyone from the 70's knew her.

She was the one making it, phallic-ly speaking, with a Cadbury chocolate bar, her glossy lips caressing and teasing the end of a Flake.

Oh yeah baby, that's the one! 

Don't you look at me as if I'm a nutter. That was a very erotic moment for Australians. That's why Cadbury did so well out of the Flake chick and her private moment of oral obsession. One of those ads were banned in some places y'know! So I'm not the only one who saw it for what it was!

Now you're asking: What's the Flake chick ad got to do with mission brown?

Virgin Goddesses!

The virginal Flake chick was the idyllic 70's icon of femininity. Every girl wanted to be a Flake chick and every guy wanted their girl to be her. During a predominantly masculine, cocaine fuelled hedonistic decade, the Flake chick descended from the heavens to bring us the most simple of pleasures - in chocolate!

The mission brown home matched it, providing a perfectly dark backdrop for men to see their women against. It didn't matter whether is was day or night, her femininity shone through the darkness, turning the bleakness into a sign of hope. 

Farrah-Fawcett helped the cause by fattening females hairstyles ten-fold. A gorgeous halo surrounded the heads of our goddesses and all it took was a teensy bit of backlighting to illuminate the hidden angel. 

And then there were key parties.

This is where we swapped our angels for somebody else's angel for a night. What a time!

When it was over she'd pop on her virginal white hat and head home - to appear at the front door just as pure as the day she was born. She'd enter, lie down on the leather couch, remove the hat and position herself in just a way that a light from behind would charge her hair halo.

Hubby, who'd not long ago finished waving off his own prize from the key-bowl, would re-enter the room, showered and refreshed. Alas, corduroy pants doesn't creep up on anyone quietly but she played the game by pretending not to notice.

Long story short, she rolled over and smiled him in. Her lipstick soon became smudged and that hat ended up somewhere between the walnut-brown veneered speakers and the bowl of plastic fruit beside the record player. This goddess and her man climaxed again and again; on the leather, on the rug, against a mission brown table and beside a chunky brick wall.

When it was over, she glowed against the room of mission brown by the way of strategic back lighting.

And then the eighties came along and ruined these scenarios. Girls didn't want to be goddesses anymore. Feminism wanted the lights on and corduroy pants made available to both sexes. There was more to life than positioning oneself in a sexual wonderland only to be objectified by men. 

Archways, mission brown walls and key parties became unfashionable. Brightly lit rooms and straight lines gave homes a more functional posture.

That's sad really.

So there you go. That's my story for the mission brown memories of the 70's. That's where my head went during my outing today. History probably didn't happen that way for everyone but that's what this writer imagined while enjoying a day-trip back to the decade of disco. 

Such is life. Enjoy my books and my wild imagination.

-M