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BY ALICE HINES | MON. AUGUST 11, 2014 | 2:00 PM | CULTURE CLUB
“People do seem very nostalgic for that time,” mused photographer Derek Ridgers about the period between 1978-1987, documented in his book 78-87 London Youth. It’s easy to see why: the photographs, snapped in clubs, after-hours haunts, and on the streets of London, capture so many subcultures that still fascinate today, from punk to goth to New Romanticism to skinhead to Acid House. It’s baffling to think that so many movements could have co-existed in such a short period. Even so, subcultures were simpler back then, according to Ridgers.
“Nowadays, there’s nothing that's easy to rebel against.” Fashion was a huge part of that rebellion, according to Ridgers, whose subjects sport everything from mohawks resembling Grecian columns to bones-as-jewelry to Leigh Bowery-esque makeup. (Ridgers also photographed Bowery himself, in addition to Boy George, Michael Alig, John Galliano, Hamish Bowles, and some other names you might recognise.) Of course, one reason nostalgia might be mounting for the era could be that many of the original punks and blitz kids are now in their 50s, in prime time for life reflection. With Derek’s help, we tracked down five intriguing subjects captured in 78-87 London Youth, and asked them about their lives then and now.
How old were you in this picture? Where was it taken?
SAMANTHA BURCHER: I was just 16 years old in this photo (above, right). It was taken in 1980, in the famous Blitz Club in London. I had been a member of the club from the very first evening, and had already been “clubbing” in London for two years.
What were you doing in your life that year? What are you doing now?
SB: I was still at school, but had been seriously distracted by my alternative music and clubbing life. I always shared the stories of my nocturnal adventures with my school friends and fell asleep a lot during lessons. I was the most famous girl in the school. Now, I work as an environmental campaigner and also as a photojournalist. A recent assignment was covering a demonstration about the plight of honeybees, which was fronted by Vivienne Westwood and Katharine Hamnett and combined fashion designers and protest.
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A feature article in Plectrum - The Cultural Pick issue 10 Nov/Dec 2011
http://www.theculturalpick.com/printedition/
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09 December 2010
Sam Burcher dusts off some vintage memories of being a ‘Blitz Kid’
Everyone claims that they were a regular at the Blitz Club. But my claim is real, and I can prove it. I remember queuing outside on the very first night in February 1979 eager to get in. However, to gain admission to the Blitz, I had to pass the strict door test. This meant being fashionably sanctioned by Steve Strange, who was sitting imposingly behind a polished wooden counter as soon as I got my foot through the door.
A pair of strikingly made up eyes scrutinized me. “Hi, it's two pounds to get in and a pound for membership,” Steve Strange said. I pushed three crumpled green notes over the counter in exchange for a Blitz membership card. Steve graciously motioned towards several stubby pencils, one of which I used to sign the card, while simultaneously thanking my lucky stars.
Inside, the Blitz was scattered with tables adorned with red and white checked cloths and simple fresh flowers. The low lights were coming from candles wedged into empty wine bottles, swollen with cascades of wax that had dried into hard rivulets. Bright lights over the bar were reflecting in the tantalising selection of glass bottles glowing with coloured liquids: primed and ready to be mixed into all manner of mind-blowing cocktails.
The Blue Lagoon
The bar at the Blitz was run by Sue Scadding, a fine-boned Debbie Harry lookalike, who was always sweet and polite. As the Tuesday nights became more popular she brought in her darker haired sister to help her when the bar got really busy. The Blitz was housed just off Southampton Row at the back-end of Covent Garden where the boom in cocktail bars was just beginning. My favourite cocktail was the Blue Lagoon. I loved the bright colour and the bitter taste of the Blue Curacoa; the crunch of crushed ice infusing the flavours of lime, sweet lemonade, and most importantly, the vodka - all converging under a miniature paper parasol.