I suffered from a real blast from the past this week when I saw this photograph of Wendy James from the group Transvision Vamp:
For a period in the late eighties, this very image of this shy, retiring lady adorned the wall of my bedroom. Always playing it cool, showing no interest in me whatsoever. Despite that look.
I think I only knew two songs by Transvision Vamp, and I only liked one of those. I eventually gave the poster to a school mate who would cast admiring glances at it every time he called around for a beer….I mean, for us to work on our homework together.
My aloof, taciturn ex by all accounts spent the next few years nailed high upon his bedroom wall. The things she must have witnessed. If only she would talk.
I think, like me, he didn’t know that many songs by her group either.
Teenage boys, eh?