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						STEVE STRANGE & SOPHIE PARKIN
			Late 1978, post-punk;  I was a fresh-faced bleached-blondie Marilyn,  doing my A levels in Cornwall.  I came to London and was invited into the world of Steve Strange by Harriet Bakewell who kindly took me down an alley in Soho,  past the prostitutes,  into what later became a venue of the infamous Gaz´s Rocking Blues.  Billy´s was a small dank hole.  Steve Strange dressed in a naval captain´s outfit with matching lipstick,  let us in.  We danced ridiculously to Kraftwerk,  me sweating into the prickly serge of my RAF uniform.  I can´t remember it being full or wild.  Steve says now : ´ It was full to capacity.  We had to find somewhere bigger.´ But at 17, when I first walked through  the doors of the Blitz in Covent Garden,  I knew I was home.  Rebecca  du Pont took me,  an old hand,  she´d been at St Martins for two terms.  Everybody looked so wonderful,  each one an original,  I wore pyjamas and thrillingly,  we got photographed for Disco Dancing Magazine. While I was ensconced at St Martins,  Steve Strange and the Blitz were my tuesday nights,  Wednesday Le Kilt, Thursday Le Beat Route.  Then came Steve´s Club for Heroes,  where pop stars and film stars,  real and pretend weere all equally ready to swan down the curved staircase.   -  Sophie Parkin / Harpers & Queen UK 2004 STEVE STRANGE MENU