A magazine

I was travelling from London to Newcastle and I bought this, the June 1985 issue of The Face, for the journey. And there, on a bristly window-seat of a National Express coach, a door opened and I stepped through to the magical world on the other side of the wardrobe. Here was a glorious collection of possibilities so completely ‘other’, compared to the drab grisailles of suburban life.   

(The headline “LP review” this month was Around the World in a Day, by Prince and the Revolution; there’s a write-up of Bright Lights, Big City, the debut novel by a someone called Jay McInerney; and a young designer called John Galliano was “this year’s hot tip from St Martin’s College...”)

From then until the magazine folded, I missed only one issue. They sit stacked around me in two-foot piles under my desk, along with copies of Arena (also RIP), Blitz (ditto) and i-D from the same period. I tell myself that I keep them because one day they’ll be a fascinating look at youth culture for my son; but really I think he’ll laugh like a drain when he sees the ludicrous clothes, insane hairdos, and retro typefaces that changed my world twenty-five years ago.