1986 My 21st, in a cricket club (no idea why) was a great party, for some reason people had bought me a whip!
I spent a month ‘doing Europe’ great times, kind of. This was the tent, no mini bar!
At Manchester Piccadilly train station, about to set off for traveling round Europe
Paris? there is a clue in the photo
Switzerland, the river was like ice. The sun had bleached the black dye out of my hair and I became blond, which is funny as my natural colour is black, go figure!
I loved this postcard, it summed it up quite well
In Italy, we hooked up with four girls. We traveled to Spain together, took 2 days, when we arrived in Spain we couldn’t exchange any money as it was a Sunday. So we continued on the journey, still nothing to eat. We joked about having a Sunday roast and what would be on the plate. We had one fag left which we shared, oh the glamour
We found a bar in Spain and ate, we hadn’t eaten for 2 days, so a little peckish. We went in the first place we found, we didn’t understand the menu, I was sure we were eating goat
There was a party at home, I think I look mad on this one
I loved my red hair
Promoting our play The Crucible, in Stretford Prescient, non-stop glamour. This may be my favourite photo of me
The gang had many trips out, this was Southport. For some reason a crowd had gathered to watch us play, I kid you not, maybe it was the red hair
Me and John traveled down to London to see Psychic TV play live on a boat on the Thames. Me with Genesis P Orridge
THE ARCHWAYS DAYSSome music from this time
We would all get together at someone’s house, usually Joyce’s. And get pissed on the bus into town on my dad’s white wine that we swigged out of the bottle on the top deck. In town, we piled in the Thompson Arms, I bought a Grolsch, then spent the rest of the evening siphoning cheap lager out of cans in a plastic bag by my feet into the Grolsch bottle. Thereby saving my self much cash. Most Sunday mornings I would count the money I had left till pay day on Thursday, one Sunday I had 25p to last me for four days After the pub, we used to go to Archways, it was definitely a ‘gay club’ and stayed open till 5 am, which was not legal at all. I remember leaving one morning and it was 5,30 and light, it was a shock, I don’t think I looked my best
My hair had an explosion of colour, I did get some looks, no idea why
This was the night I came out in the club, the group went crazy, great night!
A huge amount of time was spent in the toilets, joking. God we were pissed! I had the nick name Martini (anytime anyplace anywhere). I also worked out when I was pissed and I could feel the skin on my face, good times!
Seeing Michelle and Ian, the balloons really add a nice touch don’t you think?
Me and Joyce on a trip to Blackpool. I think we look like stars on the first photo
In the Thompson Arms, before we hit the club, why oh why did I ever don the ‘clone look’? Although I think the Grolsh bottle top earring was ahead of the trend
I finally knew who I was when I fell in love with a man, David, I knew I had fallen in love because he broke my heart, but we remained good friends for a few years. He worked in the ‘men’s wear’ department and used to sneak out clothes under his suit. He had great humour and wondered if we were living in the ‘golden days’ now. I guess we were in terms of health as HIV/ AIDS was just about to hit the headlines. David died of HIV related issues in 1991
1989 In the summer I worked in Salou, bar Jolly Sailor, it was a fantastic experience. Strange to think that in the taps there was sea water and towards the end of summer there was an amazing storm that basically killed the tourist trade. This picture is of me landing in Reus airport, Salou for the interview to be a DJ.
This picture is me just about to set off on my drive to Spain
My drag act was born (again), it was a hoot
For some reason, throwing a dress sent the straight women crazy!
Back in the UK, I got a job doing kiss-o-grams, I still wonder about that now, how on earth did that happen?
This may have been around Christmas, I have a very 1989 haircut
1990 February 23rd Paul and me met
Doing the ‘Grace Jones Look’
The campest picture of me ever, which is saying something and I’ve never really been good at maps
In the summer I went back to work in Spain, Paul came and stayed for 8 weeks, Paul was the ‘best waitress in the world’ and I was the best slut