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Sometime in the 1980s, my first assisting job, I was sent to a studio in Kingscross and told to meet Judy Blame to help with unloading bags. I presumed with a name like that I was meeting a sweet grey haired aging fashion editor, not sure why. An hour late a taxi rocked up and appeared a skinhead in an orange jump suite, armed with a large brick military telephone, a can of Red Stripe beer, cigarette hanging. “Who the fuck are you?” demanded Judy. I was mortified. But I soon realized this was just an act . Judy was a teddy bear and although reluctant, was incredibly sweet beneath the veneer. That day we photographed a collection designed by Leigh Bowery made of post sacks for Boy George, I thought I’d died and woken up in fashion heaven. Last week I was signing on the dole, and now ......
What became clear about Judy and his contemporaries, mark lebon, Christopher Nemeth, Dave Baby etc was that they were all artisans. They made everything by hand . Judy would arrive on set with bags of objects and just start making hats end trinkets on the spot until the picture worked . I did my first editorials with Judy, made my first $ shooting record sleeves and generally learnt the ropes through his extraordinary eyes. I owe him a great dept. his tongue could be savage , but his heart was beautiful. Judy Blame RIP.