Ever since she took a bottle of peroxide to her hair and rhymed “dancing very close” with “almost comatose,” Debbie Harry has been a punk goddess. Known for her cool, ironic style and her cool, ironic music, Harry has inspired artists and designers (one, an upstairs neighbor in her derelict building, gave her fashion advice; his name was Stephen Sprouse). The writer Wayne Koestenbaum described her in a paean as “gorgeousness.... I mean not only her face—its echo of every blonde siren the cinema has ever known—but her singing voice’s matter-of-factness, combining fatigue and rancor and nervous energy.” Harry, 79, currently plays muse in ads photographed by Nan Goldin for Gucci, holding a handbag called the Blondie. Her first Gucci bag was a gift from a Hollywood sophisticate named Jerry in 1967. “I could actually go upstairs and get it for you,” she tells me. “It was a little envelope with a jockey’s cap on the clasp.” When she adds, “It was totally out of my world,” I’m not sure whether she’s referring to Jerry or the bag—or both. —Linda Wells
I’m sort of at a crossroads right now between being a punk goddess and being a woman of the world. I don’t know if I’m making myself look foolish if I wear some of the clothes that I feel comfortable wearing. And so that’s my predicament.
The things that I’m attracted to are rubber hot pants and fishnet stuff. And then I think, Oh, I really should have a Chanel suit. Glenn O’Brien [the writer] said to me at one point, I think it was on Blondie, “You know, you should be wearing Chanel suits.” That would’ve been pretty outlandish.
I always liked dressing up. My mother had a big trunk in the basement, and she used to throw in all these dresses that she didn’t want. I liked trying them on and wandering around in shoes that were too big. I used to have great adventures in my head.
I was tomboyish, such a roughneck running around. I didn’t really start coloring my hair until about the eighth grade. And I had to do it subtly. My parents would say, “Wow, you must’ve been sitting in the sun a long time.” They were kind. And I’d say, “Oh, yeah, look how light my hair got.”
I was working in a salon in New Jersey, and when we had downtime, the kids wanted to practice to keep from being terribly bored. So I would have my hair cut or I’d have streaks put in. And one time they said, “Oh, let’s go blonde.” So I had a big head of blond hair. Chris [Stein] and I had started working together, and we were trying to find a name for the band. I was walking across Houston Street and was getting some “Hey, Blondie, hey, Blondie.” So there you have it.
The dark roots I played with because of being on the road. I couldn’t do the back of my hair. I would shave bits and have bare scalp and then the blond and the roots. I liked it. It was practical. It definitely was a statement, but I don’t know if it had as much to do with rebellion as it had to do with time and money. Isn’t that awful? Is that rebellious enough?
I was really influenced by the silver screen and the blondes. They glowed from the screen, and I was mesmerized by the image, even as a little girl. I was probably more influenced when I was younger than when I started actually participating in the universe of glowing heads.
I was trying to create a character that I could live inside of. It seemed very much a part of being in rock and being a lead singer. It just seemed natural in an odd way.
Blondie closed up shop for a while, and I did solo albums that got absolutely nowhere, although I did have a couple of hits. I wore different-colored wigs— green, blue, red, fire-engine red, and black. Then I let it go back to natural. I loved it all. It was fun.
I had a conversation about disguises with David Bowie of all people. I said, “How can you walk around?” He said he mostly wears a hat and doesn’t really dress flashy. I guess it is kind of simple once you get used to not being self-conscious. Some people pick up on you, and most don’t.
Hoodies were a godsend. Not only are they a good cover-up but they keep the back of your neck and your ears warm. I have a hat that can also be a mask that was designed by Alannah Currie. Part of it is a sheer fabric with eyeholes that you can roll down as a mask. It’s very charming and very practical.
I’ve always admired designers who can have a bit of humor—and the great ones do. The new Gucci ads are dreamy and romantic. I think that’s what Nan [Goldin] was thinking, too. Sabato De Sarno’s clothes are very feminine. I was sitting at the show going, I want that, and that, and that.
What do I think about aging gracefully? God, geez, that sucks, doesn’t it? I’ve known people who somehow managed to think the way they always thought and be silly and childish and willing to take a chance. And I’ve known others that have become satisfied and comfortable in their lifestyle. It’s hard for me right now to face that crossroads because I don’t want to look like an idiot but I do want to feel good. And costume has always been a part of my life.
Debbie Harry is a musician, songwriter, actress, and the lead singer of Blondie
