Beat it, ya drugstore cowboy, the bank’s closed!

Translation: get lost, you sleazy loafer, there’s no kissing me!

You would have said that if you were a) a woman, b) a Flapper, and c) living in the 1920s. And that good-for-nothing piker would’a hit the road. Unless he was a total Sheik, in which case, you wouldn’t have screamed that, and you’d probably be necking in the struggle buggy by this point!


Contributor Gemma and myself just bought our tickets for the Governor’s Island Jazz Age Lawn Festival, and boy, are we excited! I’ll be thinking about exactly what I’m going to wear and everything I’ll dream of having happen until we finally get there, but until then, here are some fashion inspirations and a great 8tracks to get you in the mood for your own rip-roarin’ 20s affair.

(Picture sources, L-R: One, Two, Three, Four, Five. Image for 8tracks source here.)

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