by Alex Sarmento (@sarmento3172)
In the 1960s, Alice in Wonderland was reinterpreted through the lens of psychedelic culture, largely due to the influence of the song "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane. The song, released in 1967, explicitly connected Alice with drug use, referencing elements from the book like the White Rabbit and Alice's journey. This connection made Alice a mascot of the 60s counterculture, associating her with the psychedelic experience, particularly LSD.
Psychedelic posters of Alice from this era often featured vibrant colors, surreal patterns, and imagery that mirrored the idea of a "mind trip," aligning with the distorted realities in the story. Elements like the caterpillar smoking a hookah, the mushrooms that change Alice’s size, and the "Eat Me" cake became symbols of the effects of hallucinogens.
While there's no evidence that Lewis Carroll intended these references, the psychedelic interpretation became a significant cultural reading of the story. Alice’s journey through Wonderland was seen as analogous to a drug trip, making the character an enduring icon of the 1960s and 70s counterculture, with its focus on breaking conventions and exploring altered states of consciousness.
Thanks to Alan Tannenbaum, who sent me the pictures.
In 2013, Marks & Spencer released a Christmas commercial that turned advertising into an intertextual spectacle worthy of study. The video, starring Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, blends Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, Hansel and Gretel, and even echoes of One Thousand and One Nights, creating a visual and narrative mosaic that resonates with the aesthetics and principles of postmodernity.
In the commercial, the protagonist falls into a manhole and finds herself transported to a universe reminiscent of Alice’s adventures. The Mad Hatter’s tea party (featuring David Gandy in the role) recalls the linguistic and playful chaos of Lewis Carroll, while the encounter with the Witch of Oz (played by Helena Bonham-Carter) recreates Dorothy’s journey. The presence of a candy house suggests Hansel and Gretel, and the dreamlike atmosphere of the commercial echoes the tradition of One Thousand and One Nights, where stories unfold within stories.
This fusion of narratives is not just an aesthetic device but a clear example of intertextuality, a concept that Julia Kristeva developed from Bakhtin: texts never exist in isolation but are always in dialogue with others. The M&S commercial operates as a hypertext, remixing literary and visual icons to generate an effect that is both nostalgic and contemporary.
In an interview conducted by Nick Coates with Professor Kiera Vaclavik, a specialist in children's literature and visual culture, published in Alice & The Eggmen, we see how Alice has become a symbol of constant reinvention. According to Vaclavik, the absence of a rigid moral arc and the flexibility of the story have allowed Alice in Wonderland to be reinterpreted over the decades, from the psychedelia of the 1960s to high fashion and contemporary pop culture.
The M&S commercial exemplifies this trend. It does not merely retell well-known stories but overlaps and reinvents them, reflecting the postmodern spirit that dissolves boundaries between high and low culture, fiction and advertising, dream and reality.
If Carroll and Baum created worlds where logic unravels and imagination takes the reins, contemporary advertising uses these same foundations to build narratives that not only sell a product but sell a universe of references, emotions, and shared memories.
Know more: Interview with Kiera Vaclavik published in Alice & The Eggmen by Nick Coates on April 3, 2025.
Hidden in the winding lanes of Covent Garden, To Jump Like Alice was more than a fashion boutique—it was a portal. Opened in the late 1960s by Sarah Buadpiece and Debbie Torrens, the shop took its curious name from a 1950 poem by Philip Larkin: "to jump, like Alice, with floating skirt into my head." And that’s exactly what it offered—a place where fashion, fantasy, and altered states of consciousness merged in true Wonderland style.
While boutiques like Granny Takes a Trip and Biba drew the limelight, To Jump Like Alice catered to the more enigmatic edge of the psychedelic scene. It was part of the vibrant "scenius" that Nick Coates describes in his Alice & the Eggman Series—where Lewis Carroll’s Alice became a muse for London’s countercultural revolution. The boutique reflected that shift: Alice not as a child's dream, but as a heroine of mind-expansion, rebellion, and reinvention.
The shop’s visual identity was steeped in Carrollian symbolism. A rare advert from the International Times (1968) features the Mad Hatter—a wink, perhaps, to the tailoring trade, but also an invitation to step into altered realities "made cloth." A business card held in the V&A archives preserves this psychedelic Wonderland in miniature: part fashion, part myth, part riddle. Though little else survives in print, To Jump Like Alice remains one of those glittering fragments of the late ‘60s—one that, like the White Rabbit himself, invites us to follow a trail through mirrors, memories, and London fog.
Source: Nick Coates, Alice & the Eggman Series
Alice
"So, the thing is that several people were missing an Alice in Wonderland video, so I thought I’d create some characters. I found some freely usable, highly colorful microscope images and built the world and characters from them. Then, I added some old bacterium illustrations from vintage encyclopedias, which is how the mushrooms came into play. Somehow, towards the end, during the animation process, the whole thing started moving in a Tim Burton direction, which I tried to resist, but in some places, I left it in because I felt the movement was strong. It was a long process, but Polo & Pan’s music helped a lot."
Music: @poloandpan
Alice leaps off the shelves and ventures into the modern and contemporary world.
She crosses the borders of the book and explores beyond the illustrations—into art, cinema, fashion, animation, games, advertising, comics, toys, graffiti, tattoos, collections, souvenirs, consumerism, clichés, commonplaces, and artificial intelligence, blending her wonder with algorithms and digital dreams. Alice’s books no longer fit into any mold or explanation, but ignite multiple possibilities for creation.
Among different Alicedelias, I seek: