Toyah's Floating Knickers
That Toyah Wilcox is a girl and a half, isn’t she! I did an interview with her today for my column in ‘London After Dark’ magazine. The one thing you can rely upon with Toyah is that she’ll always give you just what you want - when it comes to a story, I mean. I’d hardly had time to take the weight off my feet and get myself on the outside of a cup of Lapsang Souchong before she starts telling me all about these mystical powers she has. Claims she can make things float around the room with the power of her mind alone.“Like that Uri Geller?” I say.
“Yes,” she says, “Only without the forks.”
According to Toyah, she’s always had these powers. She first noticed it when she was a little girl. Her knickers used to float around her bedroom, apparently, like as though they had a will of their own.
“If you saw the powers I have,” she says, “It would make cold chills run up and down your spine.”
So I says, “Toyah, love, how about you making something of mine float around the room now, then?”
So she tells me to take off my jumper. So I did. But she couldn’t get it to float. So she tells me to take off my tie. So I did. But she couldn’t get it to float. So she tells me to take off a few other things. And, well, you know me, anything for a laugh! So I took them off. But she couldn’t get them to float. I tell you what, though - I didn’t half feel cold chills running up and down my spine - and a few other places too.
Oh, the stories I could tell if I was ever to write my autobiography! They’d have a few pop stars reaching for their lawyers, I can tell you. But Toyah’s got nothing to worry about - her secrets are safe with me. For the time being. Not so sure about later on in life though, when I’m old and vicious and desperate for the dosh. I’ll probably spill a few beans then, I should imagine.
The beans I could spill on George Michael alone would make your hair stand on end. Which reminds me - I once spilled some beans on Buster Bloodvessel as a matter of fact: a whole bloody vat of beans - none of your rubbish neither, they were properly kosher Heinz baked beans in tomato sauce. Buster stuck his head in a saucepan and then I emptied the beans all over him. Well, it wasn’t just me, to be ruthlessly honest. The photographer was doing most of it, I was just standing around in the background making polite conversation and trying to elevate the tone. Which, given the circumstances, was something of a challenge. It was for a shot for the cover of Flexipop! which is another magazine for which I write. Dreadful rag, really. I’m trying to work my way up the publishing biz gradually. The Sunday Times Colour Supplement is what I have my eye on. I mean, ask yourself - when was the last time the Sunday Times had a picture of Buster Bloodvessel covered in baked beans?
I think I’ll go the Camden Palace tonight. You know, that big new night club Steve Strange opened recently? Well, I say ‘new’ - in fact, it’s really just an old bingo hall with bouncers out the front. The Spandau lads seem to hang around a lot down there these days. And David Jaymes from Modern Romance. Nice lad, that David. I’ve always liked him, anyway. Not a natural blond though, if you want my opinion….
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