Some may call it smut. I call it the Mona Lisa of the CBGB/Max's Kansas City glory days. A "Birth of Venus" for the original New York punk/new wave scene, a scene that didn't see many trust fund babies gettin' their kicks and Strokes while waiting for those Rolling Stone love letters to filter in.
A Venus on a Half a Gram. Not that I condone Deb's drug dalliances, but the woman had incredible presence, and the sort of style that never seemed forced or merely the result of eight stylists working overtime on ego, greed, and Starbucks with a cocaine chaser.
Debbie was one of the first musicians to get the ironic T-shirt bang on. You just knew she and Chris Stein were hip to crazy wrestler shit and could probably tell you that Doctor X's real name was Dick Beyer. I once wore a Koko Beware t-shirt, and even though I was laughed at I was okay 'cause Debbie would have understood.
currently listening to: Television, Marquee Moon
