Paul Simonon and Vivienne Westwood are probably the only things I like about punk, and The Clash weren’t even a proper punk band. In fact, they were a bit shit really. But Mr Simonon here was a true arty beauty, and about eight hundred times more pleasant to look at than Sid Vicious so we’ll just use him as the poster boy for my pseudo-punk if that’s OK with you guys. He has aged incredibly well; his trademark tooth-gap making him appear younger than his fifty six years, and his style still sharp. Thoughtfully, he has spawned some offspring — two gorgeous model sons who can be seen in Prada campaigns and magazines all over the globe. HURRAH! Cheers Paul, you mega dude.
(For Jane Vesty xx)