Dressed in a pair of white levis you're driving around London in an MGB with David Hemmings and one of the Redgrave girls, shaking your stuff to The Yardbirds, making your way to the next photo session with Jane Birkin and Nanette Newman in white PVC, while Jane Asher is at home cleaning the lino and Dennis Waterman is delivering furniture in a large Arran sweater and a fish tail parka... The REAL Swinging London. Oh behave baby, indeed . . .

For children of the Sixties, life was so much simpler. A sunny optimism permeated everything, and possibilities seemed endless. This was the 'permissive' decade, and the introduction of the contraceptive pill in 1963 heralded a new freedom for women. 

With employment high and most enjoying a reasonable income, the 1960s saw an increase in consumerism. Leisure time could be enjoyed by shopping, going to the cinema, watching television and travelling abroad. By mid-decade motoring had also become a pleasure affordable to most, (and cars were still made in America and England).

In the 1960's England really did swing like a pendulum done. Many date the start of the Swinging 60's to the 5th of October 1962, when John, Paul, George and The One With The Big Nose released their first record, Love Me Do. Almost exactly a year later, Britain was in the grip of Beatlemania. The press instantly dubbed them "The Mop Tops" and "The Fab Four". But Beatlemania did more than just focus attention on The Beatles, it also drew people's attention to Liverpool as a centre of musical excellence.

And at the centre of the centre was The Cavern, a small club near the centre of Liverpool which became central to British pop. It also became a magnet for every record producer, agent and manager.

In that dark little basement, Brian Epstein signed Priscilla White, the clubs hat check girl, who changed her name and her nose and came back as Cilla Black. Epstein also signed Billy J Kramer, Gerry and The Pacemakers, and The Fourmost. Everyone signed by Epstein benefited from a Lennon/McCartney song and virtually everyone had a hit.

By 1965 the centre of the universe had swung from Liverpool to London. London was where it was at. London was 'fab', it was 'gear' , it was 'groovy'. The whole metropolis was throbbing with creativity; photographers, models, musicians, designers and actors were emerging from every nook and cranny of the city.

An engineering designer called Alec Issigonis invented The Mini. He had the brilliant idea of making a compact engine and setting it transversely across a short wheel-based chassis. Within a year, 20 million Mini's were being produced in a huge variety of colours and styles. Unfortunately they were uncomfortable to wear, causing dolly birds to suffer from metal fatigue, so he went back to the drawing board and turned his design into a range of cheap little cars. 

It was left to Mary Quant to come up with the even more brilliant idea of producing them in soft, alluring fabrics and so the Mini Skirt was born. The Mini (skirt) was worn by all the trendiest "dolly birds" like Twiggy, Jean Shrimpton and Christine Keeler.

The second half of the sixties were the years of change. No year in the decade saw greater change than 1967. It was the year of Peace and Love. It was a year perfectly summed up in San Francisco by Scott McKenzie. 

Dressed in a kaftan, beads and bells and wearing flowers in his hair, McKenzie looked a right pratt. Nevertheless, he and the rest of the psychedelic Hippies believed that through rock music, drugs and "free love" (sex), they could change the world. They had the innocence of children (and the drug-induced IQ of a teapot).

They called themselves Flower Children. Their slogan was "Make love not war" and they took their message to military establishments all over America and Britain until the authorities banned them because of increased violence as soldiers fought each other over whose turn it was to beat up and/or make love to, a flower child.

Just as 1967 was the year of peace and love, 1968 became the year of protest. In Chicago, hippies clashed with Mayor Daley's police force; In Tokyo, Red Brigades smashed police blockades; In Paris students rioted on the boulevards and in Belgium . . . nothing had changed so nothing happened at all.

1968 was a year of anger. The year when young people finally said "No" in songs that voiced their bitter frustrations at the establishment. No area of society was immune to the wave of revolution. The voice of protest roared through the arts, literature, politics, life-style and even rock music. And at the forefront of this was one man, Bob Dylan.

The Sixties also saw the most spectacular technical achievement of the 20th Century when America won the Space Race and man landed on the moon in July 1969 - but the greatest shock of the decade was the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963.

In the United States, the Sixties were also a period of great unrest, and dramatic change. The Vietnam War and the civil rights movement were both beginning to make major changes in our society, and young people were rebelling against the tremendous conformity of the 1950s.

If you lived through the sixties you should certainly find something here which strikes a chord. For those of you born since then, take a look at how innocent the world seemed back then.