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We were struggling, but we were happy for the most part. “I’m looking back on all of this in a romanticised light,” Harry said. Stein married actress Barbara Sicuranza in 1999, and Harry is godmother to their two teenage daughters. Though they broke up in 1987, on the day Andy Warhol died, she noted, they remain best friends and collaborators. The photograph is now part of the Debbie Harry canon, as is their long relationship and musical output. Ring of fire: From the ‘In Marilyn’s Dress’ series. Clad in a chiffon gown, she wields a flaming frying pan: an avatar of punk domesticity. The next apartment she lived in also had a conflagration (bad wiring was a common accoutrement in 1970s-era Manhattan real estate), and Harry and Chris Stein, her longtime boyfriend and bandmate, took advantage of the atmospheric char to photograph Harry in the ruins. “I would come out of my closet dressed for a show and he would look me up and down and say in his quiet way, ‘Is that what you’re wearing?’” That was in the notorious Blondie apartment, a crumbling loft in a building just down the block from CBGB.Ī young Stephen Sprouse was an upstairs neighbour, and it was there that he began dressing Harry in his signature couture-punk styles. Those cats saved her life by waking her up as the place was filling with carbon monoxide leaking from a faulty boiler. I had a herd of cats when we lived on the Bowery.” When you have more than one, they work as a collective. “I don’t want to sound like an old lady with dogs,” she said. And Harry spends half her time in Monmouth County, New Jersey, in a modest house with four dogs – “three Japanese Chins and one mystery meat” – in a town she moved to in 2002 to be near her father, now deceased, who was ill at the time. Her longtime band, Blondie, the pop punk ensemble that first dissolved in 1982, has been on the road for some part of each year ever since they got back together in the late 1990s. It’s just that Harry had been touring all summer. Harry wore a crisp red collared blouse with white polka dots and red leggings, and apologised for the dusty condition of this elegant and minimally furnished one bedroom with pickled floors and a pair of cream-coloured leather sofas that has been her home in New York for nearly 20 years. Hairspray: Debbie Harry starred in John Waters’ 1988 comedy. Her face is unlined (she is straightforward about her plastic surgery, comparing it to a flu shot), and the other day at her apartment in Chelsea in New York city, her platinum hair was swirled around enormous rollers, evoking her role as the aspirational mom with the exploding beehive in Hairspray, John Waters’ goofy-sincere 1988 film. Harry is a plain-spoken rock goddess, and Face It is a no-frills readīut Harry, who turned 74 in July, displays no frayed edges whatsoever. “I couldn’t just abandon them,” she writes in the book, adding that some of the portraits have traveled around the world with her, through bad weather and flight delays, “surviving just like me, a bit frayed at the edges, but still intact.” She had been storing them haphazardly in drawers and boxes until she began rounding them up for her memoir, Face It, which is published today. Harry keeps these images of herself not to prop up her ego, she said, but to honour the makers, and the effort and spirit of their gifts. There are dolls and T-shirts, works on canvas, wood and in mosaic. There are children’s drawings in markers and crayons (“Happy Birthday Debbie Love Miyuki”) and ink portraits by skilled illustrators. For decades, Debbie Harry has been saving her fan art, hundreds of versions of that familiar siren face, rendered by admirers of all talents.