Debbie Harry on the Fashion Neurosis New York couch.
When I was in the dreaming-up-stage of Fashion Neurosis a few years ago, I was experimenting with how it should look. I wanted it to be sparse in the beatnik style, maybe shot in black and white. I was imagining if I went on tour and filmed episodes in different cities, I needed it to be instantly recognisable —and that involved props of some kind. That’s when I thought of the couch and the chair: wherever I was and however different the room, there would be a shape to it. And of course a cheesy but good reference.
Then I started to fantasise about who I would love to hear talk about themselves, and I would make a list of who would be the most desirable guests. Debbie Harry was the ultimate heroine for anyone who has been part of the punk rock scene, or who caught the tail end of it, like myself. She is like a planet that has been infused with a huge excess of light: it emanates out of her—her platinum hair vibrates with it, her intensely feminine but tomboyish clothes remind you of her moon-like luminosity.
The shape of my Fashion Neurosis episodes recorded in NYC has been determined by the alluring qualities and brilliance of these guests—starting with Debbie Harry, who has featured, unknowingly to her, in my life since I was a teenager. She embodied the romance of punk and bewitched the heart of the most jaded nihilist. And here she was, on the New York green velvet couch—she even arrived an hour early! She has never lost that prettiest girl in the school look, her blonde hair falling over an eye as she slipped lightly off of her car. We kind of gawped at her for a moment, silent in our reverential admiration. Until she made a joke and sprang us from our fan demeanor. ...
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