Bulwell Bowie 1985
[ Original story by Chris Richards. Adapted for Dreamtargets by Paul Fillingham. ]

As I pushed open the front door in Maples Street, Hyson Green, Mark 'Rash' Lancashire came running downstairs. "'Only had three hours kip last night" he croaked. His eyes were like pears in red wine and he was wearing a shirt and a tie with little 1950's cars on it. His 'Serious Moonlight' blonde hair had been dyed in the scullery at Ockerby Street Bulwell. "Ah put 'Heroes' on the stereo un me dad did it" he explained. Mark had however, recently moved out from his Dad's place and into the top room at Maples Street. There he lodged with Nottingham DJ's Jon Dobson and Ian Williams, and two lesbians whose sexual preference excluded them from any advances by the amorous Bowie look-alike.

His top floor penthouse was painted Habitat grey as were the rough-hewn pallets that supported his mattress, pilfered by his Dad from a building site. Several dozen immaculate suits hung on chrome stands and the walls were adorned with David Bowie and Glenn Gregory posters. The most recent addition was a promotional spread for Jagger and Bowie's 'Dancing in the Street'. Rash put the record on and we rehearsed the 'back-to-back' dance movements complete with mimed vocal, ready for the night ahead. Before we went out, Rash showed me a lipstick imprint in the mirror, where a girl had scrawled ' I love you Mr Bowie'.

Rash's dress sense was dictated entirely by David Bowie's periodic reinvention of himself. Commenting on a recent picture in 'Smash Hits' magazine, Rash became strangely animated, desperate to share his enthusiasm. "He was wearing a white shet and pinstriped traasers just touchin' his shoes, he looked bleddy mint".

So, on this fine summers evening with jacket sleeves rolled up 'Go West' style, we headed up Maples Street to catch the bus into the city centre. The first stop was Orchards bar on Market Street. True to form, Rash had already stuffed his inside pocket with a wad of photographs of himself. This 'publicity-photo' was originally shot on Blackpool pleasure beach, dressed in a blue suit with a loose bow tie, an identity based on Bowie's 'Serious Moonlight' image. He had hundreds of reprints made and they were handed out to any girl who caught his eye or took his fancy. If any returned to question his identity, he would sign their cherished photograph either 'David' or 'Glenn' depending on his mood or their particular preference.

At the Bodega on Pelham Street, he copped off with a girl called Sandra, who had the tightest bottomed skirt I have ever seen. She could hardly walk in it and shuffled about awkwardly like a penguin. "What's she in, the school sack race?" I jested. But Mark looked back at me with a blank, disapproving expression and said "I'm onto a good thing here, she lives in Vic Centre flats and her Mam's on ollerdeh. Gorreneh johnnehs?"