This is me aged 17 with my friend Tracey in a club called The Speakeasy in 1979. We used to go to this club which was in a street somewhere north of Oxford Circus. There was a small stage at one end where occasionally someone would perform. I remember seeing Patti Palladin in Snatch, and once or twice Johnny Thunders tottered up dressed in amazing clothes, excruciatingly shy despite his status as the ex New York Dolls legendary front man. I spent a lot of my time there passed out drunk in the loos, often waking up at the end of a night alone. I had left home in Sussex at 16 to continue my education in London. I enrolled in City and East London College to do my A levels but I lasted a couple of terms before I stopped going. I had met Vivienne Westwood at the then Camden Palace and managed to blag myself the coveted job of Saturday girl at her shop Seditionaries. I remember her giving me one of those semi sneers of appreciation and saying ’You’ve cut your hair.’ That sealed it. Giving up college meant I could work full time in the shop -which is where I met Tracey. Tracey was incredibly beautiful and had been a model for Bill Gibb. She was funny and observant. She was tall, and did her make up like Marilyn Monroe with a white eyelid but with smoky black around the outside. When she sometimes fell asleep before making it into bed at night, it made her look as though her eyes were still open. I worshipped Tracey and she let me tag along and learn from her. She taught me about the code, how to be aloof without being vulnerable. Without telling me, she conveyed it was better to be silent than try and ingratiate myself to be part of the gang. If I wanted to be included I would have to hope for the best. But she never left me out. One day Tracey became homeless – I don’t know where she was living. I was sharing a flat with my older sister and I invited her to move in. I felt so happy that I could offer her something, at last. And Tracey, with her excellent manners was a wonderful guest… [cont]