When this was you
This is Angie, she was the first person I met in New York City when I moved here in 2000. I was seventeen.
We became best friends, which meant borrowing each others clothes and hanging out with her homeless boyfriend Drac, so aptly nicknamed because of his thick Romanian accent. We'd hang out in the park with him in between breaks from classes and while she was in class he'd wander around the city, his scavenger instincts leading him to find things on the street that people had maybe lost or discarded: a Chanel hairclip, a mannequin or even a box of untouched pizza.
All of Angie's friends were crazy, girls had mohawks and boys had long hair. Then there was me, the girliest one of the group who would not partake in some of the wilder antics but it was okay because really I loved the same music they all did. Trips to the record store became adventurous outings and we had a little slot at the radio station at school where we'd play The Damned while all of the indie Belle and Sebastian girls wrinkled their noses at us.
At night, the whole city became ours because there was nothing really to do when you're that young.
Sometimes, my older best friend e.e.c. from High School who had been living in the city, would take me under her wing and that's when I slowly became introduced to the nightlife (which for the record, was so much better than then it is now).
Mind you, this was before itunes, youtube and re-released dvds so getting obscure music or movies you've heard about from other people became an impossible chase in itself.
One of those movies I've always wanted to see, Ladies and Gentleman the Fabulous Stains, I finally got to watch the other night.
Though my riot grrrl or whatever teenage tendencies have sloughed off during the years, especially since my rounds in the city have lead me to come full circle in actually coming face to face with people like Kathleen Hanna or Kim Gordon and my black converse sneakers have been traded in for Chloe snap back black ankle boots, I was happy to see this movie as bad as it is.
A fifteen year old Diane Lane (yeah thats her in the photos above) is in the movie, plus Steve Jones and Paul Cook from the Sex Pistols, Paul Simonon from the Clash and Fee Waybil of the Tubes make appearances so the movie gets a little bit of street cred since it tends to be somewhat silly.
By the way, another reason to watch this, Caroline Coon made up the style and makeup of the girls. Bob Dylan and The Stranglers wrote a song about her:
This movie is a song to all of the young girls who wanted to escape a small town life, or who still do, dreaming of bright lights.
You can now buy the movie on Amazon, it's that easy.