She’s been through stalking, sexism and drugs – and had her house taken by the tax collector. But at 74, the Blondie star is still irrepressibly creative, and happier than she’s ever been
It wasn’t until she was 31 – relatively old by pop-star standards – that Debbie Harry became famous. This goes some way to explain how she managed to cram in so much before she became the superstar frontwoman of Blondie. To name but a few of her experiences, as a child, she survived being in a coma as a result of pneumonia; as a young woman in New York, she worked for the
BBC, hung out with Andy Warhol and other
New York faces, escaped an abusive relationship, became a driver for the New York Dolls, started a girl band, formed Blondie and believes she had a lucky escape from the serial killer Ted Bundy. “I’m sure I don’t have all my experiences on tap,” Harry writes in her new autobiography, Face It.
I meet her in a suite at the Savoy in London. She appears alone, wearing sunglasses. Harry is tiny (despite her platform trainers) and pale, with her instantly recognisable peroxide hair swept back. She looks as delicate and ethereal as a dandelion clock, but the sunglasses come off and her eyes are quick and determined. She seems warm and tries to ask me as many questions as I ask her – I can’t decide if it is her enduring curiosity or a deflection technique. Perhaps it is both.