#60s girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrskennedy · 2 days

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Jacqueline Kennedy and Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson greet guests on the south lawn of the White House.

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rosesgrownbytheseaside · 10 months

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Audrey Hepburn, 1962

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brunettedelulu · 2 months

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vintage-tigre · 5 months

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Tina Aumont in Partner, 1968

#tina aumont #60s girl #aesthetic #vintage #old school cool #style #the eyes #eyes of heaven #60s movies #60s aesthetic #spooky girls #the evil eye

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frenchnewwaves · 7 months

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Monica Vitti wearing a fur coat

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angelunderheaven · 4 months

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sincerelyemma13 · 6 months

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george harrison and pattie boyd <3

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viaov · 1 year

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Jordan Gibson, Batgirl, 60’s Japanese Style

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ellouroumo · 10 months

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the nurse from the twilight zone episode "eye of the beholder"

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urbadmami · 10 days

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elenisthebest · 25 days

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blue eyeshadow you have all my love

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mrskennedy · 18 hours

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Jacqueline Kennedy and Jawaharlal Nehru, Prime Minister of India. March 1962.

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pinupdelore · 16 days

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#aesthetic #coquette #coquette aesthetic #trending #audrey hepburn icons #audrey hepburn #cat #60s actress #60s vintage #60s glamour #60s girl #60s aesthetic #60s icons #60s style #60s fashion #60s #old hollywood #movies

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brunettedelulu · 2 months

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The Fig Tree Analogy *⁠.⁠✧

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.

From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

From, "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath, 1963.