I’m reading Just Kids and have been forming a new obsession with Patti Smith. I never listened to her music (I know, I live under a rock made by Roy Ayers and soul) – just absorbed her fashion as she tells the story of her young life in NYC with renowned photographer, Robert Mapplethorpe – who was tasty and delicious back in those days:
These kids today have nothing on the kids of yesterday. Patti’s don’t-give-a-poop-about-nothing attitude is infectious – so is her style – a mixture of vintage (as we know it – back then it just called hand-me-down clothing) with a masculine flair. My favorite story from the book is when poet Allen Ginsberg tries to pick Patti up, thinking she was a very pretty boy.
Patti lived and loved Robert Mapplethorpe. They had the kind of relationship that I dream about. For starters, any lady who can bed a gay man is a lady to be studied (and emulated). After all gay men are the hottest men around – at least in the United States. Secondly, what a life these two led! Partners and lovers in crime. I strongly recommend reading Just Kids. I was surprised and inspired by Patti’s candor and life. She is a woman of no bounds – and big balls. She also cleans up well and plays good with birds: