It’s two days before Christmas on a dreary afternoon in downtown Los Angeles, and Billie Eilish and her mom are unpacking two very full suitcases of clothes.
“I pretty much only thrift,” the singer tells me as we sort through the outfits that she’s curated for her self-styled NYLON photo shoot. “I like things that are a step above everyone else’s. Even if something is ugly, if it stands out I’ll wear it.”
I felt like I had a scarlet G tattooed on my forehead proclaiming I was regret-free, and actually proud of my groupie days as a feminist sexual pioneer. A bold female doing exactly what she wanted to do and not hurting anybody in the process. Isn’t that feminism in action?
I’ve written and spoken at length about what it means to be a true groupie, how I’ve spent most of my life attempting to redeem a word that has been twisted and turned in all the wrong directions. Yes, it began as a simple statement of fact. That girl is with a band so she is a groupie. But oh how it has come to mean so much more.
When I first heard the word groupie, I was standing with all of Led Zeppelin in front of the Hyatt ‘Riot’ House Hotel, ready to climb into one of their 4 limos on our way to the Forum.“Look…that girl must be a groupie!” I was 19 years old, smack dab in the middle of my heady rock & roll lifestyle, on the arm of Jimmy Page, most coveted rock god of the moment. “Hmmm,” I thought, “I have a title now – someone who hangs out with groups.” I didn't think much about it, really, until
During my early teen years, I was weighed down by a barrage of fear and doubt. My complexion wasn’t even near the creamy dreamskin I longed for, I had (still have) a small bosom, I wasn’t as popular as the bubbly cheerleaders at Northridge Jr High, and unless I was with very close friends or family I tended toward shyness. Yes, I was a Beatlemaniac and imagined being on the lap of the Cute One, I canoodled with my very own badboy boyfriend, and dreamed of being an actress.
Sign up for news, deals and steals