When 1969 hit the clothes took a real turn for the bizarre. The loud limes, purples and oranges of the Camaros and other hot cars were transformed to shirts and everyone (everyone whose parents were the slightest hip) had bell-bottoms. As I was not a band guy during this time I just wore the clothes they did (Fake it ’til you make it). I did, however, shed my pea-jacket and neckers and bought hip huggers with a macrome belt that tied and the ends hung down over my white chenille bell-bottoms. Addidas shoes and a “underwear shirt” completed the ensemble. This all ended suddenly when Harvey Broster came back from Vancouver with tie-dyed jeans (Except for the Addidas. These I wore for 15 more years . . . not the same ones!) Harvey also had long hair but that would not come for me until I left for university.

Back to band guy stuff: My first introduction to band uniforms was in 1975, a full ten years after I made my debut with my Kent bass. Our band, Station House, landed a full-time job at the Four Brothers cabaret in Cranbrook, B.C. and the owners, nice fellows of Chinese descent, wanted us to look professional on the weekends. So, we went down to the local haberdashery and got our “Pumpkin Outfits.” These so named after the dull orange, acetate (napalm again) shirt. The pants were a cream color not conducive to spilled drinks. During the week, we experimented with various clothing matches and our guitar player, George Plant, came in one day wearing a denim jumpsuit. So, I got a corduroy pair and then he got denim bib overalls (all the rage) and I proceeded to buy white ones (again, not spilled-drink-friendly).

But I witnessed the peak of uniforms when I joined Sensation, a showband featuring a friend of mine from Kimberley, Randy Marchi. Our “Banana Outfits” were : yellow polyester jacket, matching yellow pants, matching yellow waist coat and black (napalm) shirt. We inherited this apparel from various other sidemen who had played with the band over the past few years. Me, being tall, naturally got the shortest waist coat and no one would trade with me. This made me look rather “giraffish.” So I created my own “wardrobe malfunction” and another band member finally traded with me after some great pursuasion. I think it had to do with me trading my single room to the drummer who had a hot date. (We took turns having a room to ourselves because the clubs only gave us 4 for 5 guys and the band leaders had their own rooms all then time) When he, a short fellow, passed out the long item I gave him the short waist coat and the key to my room.

The band guys in 1965? Colored jackets, white shirts, black pants and Beatle Boots. Brylcreem lasted until 1971 then “the wet head was dead.” Young band guys today still sport swatches of acne.

Lately, I just wear what people give to me (and beer companies, etc.).