Wilde Thing
The French called Kim Wilde the "Brigitte Bardot of rock" and I guess they should know — about Brigitte Bardot that is, not rock music. But while she had the pouty, bee-sting lips and heavy-lidded, smouldering eyes of a French sex kitten she didn't have the same sense of volatile emotional danger about her, the feeling that any minute she's going to explode in a fit of l'amour fou and start throwing plates at you, stub a Gitanes out on your hand, or throw herself off a bridge in passionate despair over some love affair gone wrong. Kim always seemed too sensible, too English for all that, and instead of some sleazy svengali Roger Vadim-type manipulating her behind the scenes her records were written and produced by her brother and her dad. All of which which made her a nice, girl-next-door (if you were really lucky) sort of sex symbol — more Smash Hits than French Vogue. I was never moved to put a poster of her on my bedroom wall though, I preferred the more ooh la la allure of the real Bardot (though at the time I think I had a Marilyn Monroe poster on the wall) but there was no denying she was extremely fanciable, it was like having our very own Debbie Harry — but one who liked a nice cup of tea.
Oh, and her records weren't all that bad either, this is from her terrific debut album.
Download: Our Town - Kim Wilde (mp3)
3 Comments:
My first single was Kids In America, and Kim was my first major pop star crush!
And until last Friday there was a girl working in my office who looked just like her......
Nowadays she's gone even more "too English" with all the gardening alongside Titchmarsh et al. Last time I saw her it was at the Chelsea Flower Show, still looking good - if not a little mumsy amongst the flowers!
Phil
she went to the same gardening school as me - capel manor up in enfield - and she had had a massive arse. i'm sorry but she did.
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