I'm going to the salon, Patti. I realize that's not very punk rock.
But in those broke-as-sh*t williamsburg days when I used to cut my own hair, it never looked punk rock. It just looked sort of lopsided. I've learned it takes a skilled stylist to give me just the right dishevelled look.
In these broke-ish echo park days, I will happily shop for vintage/resale/thrifted clothes. I will eat out less often. I will finally get a library card. But I will not compromise on haircuts. (After all, I wear my hair every day.)
I need to catch this doc, b/t/w. Where the hell have I been?
p.s. I will admit I'm a little obsessed with Patti Smith. It's 70% style/30% the whole Sam Shepard thing.
p.p.s. Dream Weaver? Really??
(1978 photo by Robert Mapplethorpe found here)