The A-Muse-ing Sue Tilley

My friend Sue Tilley called herself ‘Big Sue’ for as long as I can remember. I first met Sue in NYC in the early 1980s. I always admired her tenacity and frankness. She was one of a pool of cool girls around town who had amazing style and presence, which takes more than just clothing to achieve. It’s one thing to construct an individual and memorable style, but you also have to emote something else as well (more on this topic in a bit). The French may call it je ne sais quoi but I think the Spanish term is more apt for what we children of the night had: cojones.

Sue was the woman who manned the door at the infamous London club Taboo. She also performed with her friend the provocateur and performance artist Leigh Bowery. I recall one of their performances at Area where they dressed in very ornate costumes as the King and Queen from a deck of cards.

A photo of Sue Tilley in Vivienne Westwood.

Sue also worked as a doorwoman for an East Village night club. Being a door person could be quite glamorous, but it also always comes in tandem with danger. Sue was involved in a scuffle at the door of this club and she was shot. She was rather matter of fact about it, calmly telling me it was merely a job hazard. I met her at the ‘go to store for all your nightclub needs,’ Patricia Fields. I was looking for…you know, another tube of pink lipstick. Sue was looking for some foundation to cover the bullet hole scar. 

Sue moved back to London and did something that many parents of artistically inclined children wished we did: she got a sensible job with benefits and daylight work hours, becoming a clerk in a government job center, and thus lending her job title to one of the most famous portraits painted in the last century. Leigh Bowery made the suggestion to the realist painter Lucian Freud that his friend Susan might be a good subject for a painting. A meeting was arranged, and Sue agreed to sit for Lucian.

Lucian Freud knew what he was doing by choosing Sue as a subject, as she has an amazing presence that could not be denied. Lucian Freud only worked with live models, the paintings took many months to execute (nine!) and Sue had to sit for 8-9 hours each session, 2 or 3 days a week. She not only had to be physically present, she had to emote as well. And emote she did. One of the paintings Lucian did of Sue, Benefits Supervisor Sleeping, is considered a masterpiece of modern portraiture and in 2008 it was on the auction block garnered the highest price ever for a portrait painted by a living artist. And what she gave to Lucian Freud remains as enigmatic as The Mona Lisa’s smile.

Sue looking lovely in a gorgeous feathered hat.

Kate Middleton and Sue Tilley at a Lucian Freud exhibition at The National Portrait Gallery.

Note: Sue Tilley also is the author of a biography of her friend, the performer Leigh Bowery titled Leigh Bowery, The Life and Times of an Icon.

Siouxsie Sioux: Kiss them or Me

Dedicated to Edwige Belmore and Suzie Carr @ girl_novelist

Siouxsie Sioux kissed me on the lips. And yes, when she did this I wasn’t even wearing black. I was wearing a bilious shade of yellow, truth be told. I’m lucky she didn’t slap me. When your idol gives you an unsolicited smack on your kisser it can rock your world or mess with your mind. I believe Siouxsie was just being nice.

I’m such a Siouxsie and The Banshees fan. But like all music fans, I have some very strong emotions attached to what I like. I fell in love with the music of  The Banshees in the late 1970s. As soon as I heard the first single Hong Kong Garden it was love at the first stroke of the vibraphone. I loved the urgency and the musicality of the songs she and her band produced. I idolized Siouxsie; she was one of a small handful of women in what became known as the punk scene. She embodied what it meant to be a strong talented woman with unique and singular voice. And she was the progenitor of several modes of fashion; proto-punk and what is known as Goth would not exist without our Susan J. Ballion.

Siouxsie leading her Banchees.

She and Banshees drummer Budgie had formed an ancillary band called The Creatures in 1981. They were touring to support their CD Anima Animus, and playing at a club called Spa on Bleecker Street, now defunct. This was on the cusp of a time when nightclubs were leaving their days of being dark and spooky (if you need a visual for this, think of the club in the beginning of the movie The Hunger), but still the time when you went out in Manhattan to have fun. What passes for “fun” these days seems to be about paying to be in the same room with famous or wealthy people and watching them have fun.

One of the countless glamorous images of Siouxsie Sioux.

Now back to that kiss: I was leaving an after-party for The Creatures when Siouxsie walked up to me and asked me my name. When I told her, she smiled, grabbed my face and gave me a kiss on my lips. It was not a salacious kiss, people. It was just a gentle kiss. No, maybe it was just a kiss for her. For me, it was something else. It was a big deal for me. I have an exercise for you: close your eyes. Go to a quiet place in your mind (if you are lucky enough to have one). Imagine someone you have held in high regard for a few decades. Now imagine them giving you a kiss. Open your eyes. How was that for you? My kiss from Siouxsie felt like some sort of blessing. Amen. 

Promotional photo of Siouxie for her most recent solo CD MantaRay.

Siouxsie and The Banchees in 1976. 

Also:Check out this composite of Scottish fashion designer Pam Hogg's work, which includes a collection inspired by and featuring Siouxsie as a model (uploaded by voodoo100 via YouTube).