I’ve been quiet again, but with better reason this time. I’ve had my groupie gals staying for the week, and have been immersed in rock talk for most of that time. Charley had the most incredible book of photos by the legendary Mick Rock, including several of Mr Bryan Ferry which nearly had me on the floor in swoonfulness….
He seems to be popping up all over the place [and in conversations] far more frequently at the moment, or I’m just noticing it more, and it’s all leading me to realise that I have one hell of a serious crush on him.
I mean, what’s not to crush on?
I’m afraid I’m a sucker for the [dark] floppy hair and blue eyes combination. Add to that the sophisticated (even at the height of glam rock) dress sense, the slightly odd dancing, the fact that he appears to have been born middle-aged [and has therefore never aged], and then there’s that voice. The voice of God, as someone put it. Oh yeah….
He really is a sort of God. He’s always exceedingly cool, without ever chasing such a thing. Far too much effort I’m sure, he leaves that kind of thing to Mr Bowie. And I love that quote about how Roxy Music wanted to redecorate hotel rooms rather than trash them. No wonder my beloved Durans worship the BryanGod so wholeheartedly.
And at 63, I definitely still would. I’ve even got an Antony Price dress hanging up in my wardrobe for such an occasion. I’m not actually sure it should ever leave my closet for anything less than Bryan Ferry.
….In the “those sadly no longer with us category”.
Clark Gable. Not so much for Gone With the Wind services, but for It Happened One Night which is one of my favourite films of all time. The sexual chemistry between Gable and Claudette Colbert is crackling, and it renders him totally irresistable. I was umming and aahhing between Gable and Gregory Peck for the ‘old school’ filmstar Vintage Bloke, but decided Peck (though gorgeous and wonderful in Roman Holiday particularly) was far too clean and smooth looking for my tastes.
Gareth Hunt in The New Avengers. I’ve had a soft spot for poor Gareth Hunt (poor because the man became rhyming slang for something unrepeatable) for years. But seeing him in his youth more recently in The New Avengers. Rowrrrrrrrrr!! He’s a proper blokey bloke, but very sweet with Purdey (the luminous Jo-Lum) and well, it’s inevitable I’d like him isn’t it? He’s so Seventies it hurts!
Marc Bolan. Le sigh. Pretty pretty pretty!! He wore ladies clothes with great aplomb and had the most phenomenal hair. He’s just indescribable, so I’m not going to try…
George Harrison. Seems I chose the right Beatle for my favourite (John Lennon is the only one who has never been my favourite, I think he’s a bit too prickly for me to love him unconditionally). And now he’s sadly left this world, he can’t ruin it all and taint our view of him like Paul and Ringo regularly do. His songs are also my favourite of all Beatles songs, and I think his solo career has been my favourite too. Soulful eyes, beautiful hair and that mystical, serious, quiet persona. If I can still love him after reading Pattie’s autobiography, which is incredible but so sad it can be very hard to read at times, then it must be true love.
Oliver Reed. If I had known Olly in his youth, or at any point quite frankly, I know I couldn’t have put up with him. I’d have probably thumped him one on a regular basis, if he didn’t thump me first, and knowing that he liked his women to have ‘traditional’ values he probably couldn’t have put up with me either. But the man was a walking chunk of sex. If you’ve never quite ‘got’ the Oliver Reed thing, just watch The Assassination Bureau with Diana Rigg. Trust me. I know I still haven’t ever recovered.