Mad about the Boy
It's not every day you get to meet a bona fide icon, unless, of course, you are Woody Allen's therapist. But, on 2005's first glorious spring day, I enter the lobby of the unfathomably exclusive Home House in Portland Square and wait, a little anxiously, to be ushered into the presence of Boy George.
Based mainly in New York these days - from where he conducts his various creative interests in music, fashion and photography - George still remains a part-time Londoner: not only does his family live in the capital, but he still owns a house in Hampstead.
This particular trip marks the publication of his second autobiography, entitled Straight: "It's a triple entendre," he says later, a pun that evokes the book's holy trinity: sobriety, sexuality and honesty.
When finally I see him, sitting alone in Home House's garden, I am momentarily disappointed. Usually bedecked in bright colours and vivid make-up, he has plumped instead for a look that says, "I am the bassist in Echo and the Bunnyman": a long overcoat half hides the logo on a black
T-shirt which is accompanied by dark jeans and chunky trainers.
I realise later my reaction is precisely what George is all about. "People have these assumptions about me," he says. "And I like to disappoint them in that respect. I understand that society wants to put everything into a fluffy pink box, but unfortunately that's not how
life is."
Contrast, friction and subversion are vital components of George's persona. In typically contrary fashion his favourite phrase is "I'm sorry"; this is, however, almost always followed by a "but". Similarly, I find on closer inspection that the drab clothes only enhance other features: the star shaped tattoo beneath his shaved hair; and his eyes, which are of the lightest blue and shine as he speaks, which he does eloquently, rapidly and with utter charm.
It is impossible to do justice to Boy George's conversation in only slightly more than a thousand words. Here are the edited highlights: "The 70s was exciting because it was so incongruous. You had punk rock, Michael Jackson dancing in front of a lurex curtain. Everything was wrong about the 70s and that's why it was so great;" "It is always the most unattractive men that call you 'faggot'. I'm like, don't worry, you're not my type;" "I saw Germaine Greer on Big Brother. Hasn't anyone got any dignity any more? Joan Collins said, what's next, people on the toilet?;" "There's this naïve attempt to bridge this gap between famous people and people on the street. Why not just get rid of everything - get rid of dreams, destroy the whole thing and bring it down to smoke and ash?"
A recurring theme is misconception of his character. "The press take a sentence out of a well written piece and bastardise it to get a reaction. I say, Matt Lucas is a really brilliant actor and a great comedian, but they don't print that. They print that I don't like him. (Laughs). Well, that's actually not what I said. (Laughs even more). It's just that we didn't get on, that's all."
This is not to say George is a shrinking violet when offering his views, especially about sexuality. "I don't want to be assimilated or apologise for what I am. I am not a typical homosexual and it doesn't inform everything that I do in my life. I don't live in a gay ghetto either. I hang out with people I like, regardless of whether they are gay or straight.
"There is nothing wrong with what I am. Why is it alright for straight blokes to talk about girls? I like boys, so I am going to talk about it. Get over it. If you don't like it, don't listen."
The same attitude informs George's views about famous figures, above all fellow icons who should know better. "The stuff I have said about Elton John and Madonna is absolutely fair enough. Since when is having an opinion a crime? If somebody like Elton John does something as extreme as performing with Eminem, who is openly homophobic, then he can't expect somebody who is unapologetically gay not to say something."
I ask why that collaboration angered him. "It is not an artist's job to reinforce stereotypes. It is not OK for Eminem to use the word 'fag'. He doesn't use the word 'nigger', so why can he say 'fag'? The reason Elton's annoyed is because I told the truth. Elton made out it was a political gesture, but he quite clearly did it because Eminem is trendy. It's not like they talked about how Eminem would apologise for all the vile things he has said about gay people. Do you think that if I made a racist record or joined a white supremacist movement people would just go, 'Whatever, George is just being ethereal'?"
So who does he upset these days? "Madonna's publicist," he replies instantly. "Has anyone from the Kabbalah come out and said, 'We are gay friendly'? All religions tell you they embrace homosexuality - love the sinner, not the sin. All that means is: you're going to hell. Let's pity them because they're damned to hell. How is that a compliment? I'm sorry, that is really offensive."
George relishes keeping lazy celebrities on their toes. "I think it's very important for people who are gay or claim to be gay-friendly to be very conscious about what they do. You can't just say, 'I'm into this religion and it doesn't matter whether it's homophobic'. It does matter - it matters big time. You've got to be pulled up on these things, I'm sorry."
When I ask about the future, George turns cheeky once more. "Our next show is in September. Perhaps I should get Madonna to model for me. Get her a
T-shirt that says I hate Boy George. I'll make her one."
Before I leave, I mention my nerves about meeting him. Why, he asks. My mind considers magazine headlines like "Queen Bitch: George Goes for the Jugular"; my mouth mumbles feebly about fame.
"Oh, it's so overrated, fame," he replies, laughing cheerfully. "A friend was reading in the book that I had sold 50million records. She said, 50million! I said, it doesn't mean a thing."
With that, he's off. I leave Home House with a smile on my face. I needn't have been nervous. George gave much more time than I was promised and was never less than charming.
Though he'd hate me for saying it, perhaps that is the secret buried beneath all those assumptions: Boy George is a gentleman - the perfect gentleman, in fact.
o Straight is published by Century, £17.99.
|
|
|
|
|
|