Back then, in 1989 Neneh was Britain’s brightest, freshest riposte to the knock-off, b-boy culture of 80s Canal Street New York. With Blame she appeared fully formed, a swaggering cross between Jean-Michel Basquiat and Roxanne Shanté. Leaf through your record collection - Björk’s Debut, Cherry’s Raw Like Sushi - and you will probably find you already own a piece of Blame’s wonderful art world.
Judy Blame was born as Chris Barnes in Leatherhead, Surrey, but moved to London as a teenager. While he went on to find success both in the mainstream and the underground as an art director, stylist, designer and visual iconoclast, Blame started out as a designer and kid about town. Chris was rechristened Judy, after Garland, by Roxy Music’s favourite couturier Antony Price, while working the cloakroom at Heaven in London in the early 80s. Blame proudly told the tale of Richard Branson tried to sack him when he took over ownership of the club for one particularly outrageous choice of workwear. No chance.
Source: theguardian
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