The Times they are a Changing

Bob Dylan wrote the iconic song 'The times they are a changing' in the 60's when the world was in turmoil and people were flexing their independance and personal beliefs. It was a crazy time, a hazey time and a time full of a lot of free love, so i have heard. I often wished that I was around in that time to experience this change. But I wasn't, so to give my own perspective on that time would just be silly. Someone once commented on this song saying that ' ..it personifies the 60s and times of revolt and change so well'. So what I have chosen to do is create my own rebellion and my own sense of change, here in my home Morocco.

I want to share a little secret with you all. I did something I never thought I would do. I purchased a pair of white stretch pants (trousers). I do not want to insult my fellow white pant (trouser) wearers, but when you live in a town like Jan Juc it's only European backpackers or locals that got a really good deal on a pair of white pants at the Quiksilver sale (when really they wanted the black/brown/blue or grey) pants (trousers) that their friends managed to snaffle. Their friends only managed this as they got up the extra 15 minutes early and scored a better place in the line at the Torquay Primary School gymnasium.

White pants (trousers) are everywhere in this country. They come in all different styles and cuts. High wasted, low wasted, slim fit, loose fit, linen, stretch cotton, denim. The list goes on and on. Why, why, why so much white pant (trouser) wearing in Morocco?

What led me to buying the white pants (trousers)? I have thought about this and posed this question to myself for the last week. Finally, it dawned on me. I think that the French influence in Morocco is actually influencing me now. Next, I will be wearing a blue and white striped shirt and espidrilles. I hate to generalise but it may just happen.

So, I was recommended by a friend after admiring her white stretch pants (trousers) as to where I could lay my hands on a pair of these little treats. She pointed me in the direction of a shop not so far from my apartment. The sweetner was that they are in actual fact, Zara, pants (trousers) with the label cut off and sold for half the price. I love this country.

I have worn them out and been to afraid to sit down in them in case I get a mark across my backside. I have been dodging horse and carriages, and motorised scooter fumes. I don't need nasty exhaust fumes on my pretty white pants (trousers). I hover in taxis so my bottom doesn't touch the seat and always, always use a napkin if not two when eating. Not to mention the impromptu sand storms Marrakech has been having lately. I've gone as far as having a bottle of bleach at the ready.

Tomorrow I think might invest in a black, blue, brown or grey pair of pants (trousers)! It's got to be easier than wearing white in Marrakch l'hemmra. (Marrakech the red)

Come gather 'round people. Wherever you roam.
For my style is a changing!