Yes, honestly; I wanted to be Lynsey...

It is with sadness I have heard of the death of Lynsey de Paul, that seventies’ songtress and writer, whose sultry ballads on Top of the Pops evoked pink cocktails and late-night piano bars. O, how I wanted to be Lynsey, spending many hours, much lip gloss (I still have a Max Factor lippie from that era) and bags of imagination in trying to achieve the de Paul pout. The latter ingredient I needed in plenty, since with my thick glasses and complexion liberally sprinkled with zits, I hadn’t a coal’s chance in a furnace of achieving semblance with my idol. As the 1970s progressed, the Biba-inspired look and smoky voice faded from fashion, unable to translate to the cut-and-thrust commercialism of the 1980s. However, Lynsey continued to work, channelling her creativity into acting, art and further song writing. Her contribution to life and art will continue to sparkle on a planet rendered a little more grey and less glamorous in the wake of her departure. Lynsey de Paul (1948-2014, RIP).