Miami Beach Kitsch

Bettie Page -Bunny Yeager photo

Miami Beach in the 60's was very different from what it is today.  I would describe parts of it as "kitsch."  The dictionary definition is: pretentious but shallow art or writing.

That describes the era of the 50's and 60's in Miami Beach, Florida.  You remember the glitzy postcards from Florida?  Provocative pictures of busty, tanned, bottle-blonds enmeshed in oranges?  That was a big part of the Miami Beach allure.

For visitors and residents, going to the Beach was a wonderful folly.  One could get a tan, swim, and people watch all day long.  Beaches run a perimeter from lst Street all the way up the coastline.   All were nice enough - but one was absolutely jaw dropping - the 71st Beach.

It was all about "kitsch."

This beach was had its' own flavor.  It was seedy, the sand was dirtied with candy wrappers, cigarette buds, as well as other items left to one's imagination. There was a distinctive smell:  the sand smelt like a mixture of urine, stale cigarette buds, and beer.

 In short, if one was brave enough to go there it was to "see" but not be "seen."

Why anyone would want to go there is another story.  From the moment you stepped foot on that beach, you were accosted by a bible toting Evangelist - literally screaming out scriptures-  always  a side show for bathers.  

In the 1960's, this beach attracted a wide array of people including: The "Little River Rats" (one of the local suburb gang's from the city), Canadian visitors,( who didn't have a clue where else to go), rowdy teens, and vagabonds.

The concession area  had a jute box that attracted the shadiest of characters.  Strippers," ladies of the evening," took to the dance floor in their polka-dotted bikinis, spiked heels, beer in hand.  They delighted in  entertaining an audience of brill cream affectionados,  including children and families.

 I remember one memorable character, with wild red shoulder-length hair that gave solo performances on weekends -keeping tempo with the sounds that emanated from the sand-soaked speakers.

She would dance for hours to "Shake a Tail Feather,"  "Only the Lonely,"  "Pretty Woman" and never miss a beat.  After she finished each performance, men would reward her with a fresh drink when she slithered up to the bar to engage them in conversation.

I remember the whirling around the sandy coral floor, and can still taste the sand in my hamburger that was kicked up from the dancing. 

These were men in their 20's, 30's, and 40's.   I felt like a voyeur, as I was all of 14, with a bird's eye view of the activity.  Having never seen anything like it, this was a great escape for me at the time.

Rebellious teens would meet at 71st beach on the weekends.  It was not unusual to find much older, displaced people mixed in with these groups; as they had the cars -and the "wheels"- they needed to get around.

The Royal Castle  across from the Beach, or the drugstore (just south of it on the corner of 71st Street) were the two additional hang outs. The drugstore employed the first cross dresser I had ever seen, affectionately called "Queeny" by the locales.

If you passed "her" on the street it was appropriate to  compliment "her" on her bleached blond duck-tailed do - as she sauntered down the street. 

I suppose every city has it eccentricities, but Miami Beach in the mid 1960's was very different from what it is today.  It has been, and always will be, a diverse blend of cultures, ethnicities, and style.  No wonder it attracts an international crowd of visitors and celebrities, who just can't get enough of it.

There is something for everyone in Miami Beach. It continues to evolve with each decade.

But for my money, there will never be any beach quite like the 71st Beach in the 1960's.

The images remain etched in my memory.