A Baja Beach-Party Fashion Statement

Photographs by Craig Cameron Olsen
Fashion by Vicky McGarry

Craig Cameron Olsen

SLIDE SHOW (16 pictures)

Sea Breeze and the rest of us have piled out of the back of the Big Green Bus—the Green Tortoise, naturally—which really is green, except for the streaks of blue paint from where we French-kissed that Chevy Nova back in Ensenada. We came billowing and bouncing and rolling and heaving and French-kissing all the way to this deserted beach, a place not unlike the hideout where the Chief once fled on trumped-up charges way back when. Still, Sea Breeze is right: Pick the wrong place to disrobe here and you'll get pinched faster than a burned-out blunt.

But Sierra Mama asks again if she can pull off her breezy camisole and plunge into the Sea of Cortés. The Breeze-Man, decked out in some kind of bright orange Day-Glo wicking sweatsuit, tells her to keep a good lookout. There is not one federale in all of Baja who doesn't know this Green Bus and why we came. The only thing they can't figure is how the sixties have managed to last four-plus decades—that, and when did these hippies start wearing such cool, sleekly fashionable togs?