
The cult of punk had taken root in the mid-1970s in a small but sensational shop in London’s King’s Road called SEX. Its name was brazenly spelt out in huge letters of padded pink vinyl, displayed like a vast spongy pop-art sculpture above its front window. It looked terrifying. Beckoning the customer inside were piles of naked headless mannequins draped over each other as if indulging in an orgy. Those brave enough to enter found themselves in a kind of fetish gymnasium, the walls lined with pale pink rubber, and bars hung with whips, handcuffs and other exotica glorifying the sordid, the inappropriate and the tasteless. Presiding over this provocative little emporium were two ruling blondes, the two icons of the punk movement, Jordan and Vivienne Westwood.
Pitman, Blondes
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