30 Mar

We could be heroes

We came to New York to meet our heroes. We dressed like them, talked like them, lived like them. For a few dollars, anyone could walk into a thrift store and come out looking like a movie star… motorcycle jacket, cocktail dress, sharkskin suit, stilettos, black eyeliner, tuxedo shirt, and the most imporatat element- the right hair. That was the look; you were Marilyn Monroe, Brigitte Bardot, Nico, Edie, Marlon Brando, Francoise Hardy, James Dean, Pierre Clementi, Alain Delon.

You went to art school by day, but it was at night that you really lived. There was the circuit- we’d meet at the restaurant One U and then head to Max’s or CBGB’s, or both. Then there were the night clubs like Hurrah and Mudd Club. Everyone would go there to see and be seen. There you’d find out what was happening: see the newest band from London, get asked to be in an underground movie, get invited to an art opening or a fashion show…

Then there were the parties, usually in lofts up a million steps leading into huge spaces with great music and great people, but no drinks or air conditioning. I remember once an entire abandoned building was decorated like a haunted house and used as a setting for a Halloween party.

Next thing you know, there’d be a new after-hours club springing up in some odd location that made no logical sense. Maybe an office building, up a fluorescent-lit, cramped elevator, out into a hallway lined with tanks filled with hundreds of creepy snakes.

And each night you’d see your heroes: David Bowie, Mick Jagger, Johnny Rotten, Marianne Faithful, Cher, Siouxsie Sioux, Brian Eno, Johnny Thunders, Anita Pallenberg, John Cale, Sid Vicious. Every night was a great big adventure. We thought it would last forever and ever… yet all we did was complain about how bored we were.

– Anna Sui
Excerpt from Maripolarama

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