Disco-lady Kim Wilde!

The new star has Marilyn Monroe’s lips, Brigitte Bardot’s eyes, Tuija Halonen’s face, own opinions and a solid personality. The girl doesn’t laugh, rather looks pained and enigmatic, twenty and awarded with gold at the top of the charts.
Kim Wilde came last spring. Restlessly performed her pulsating hit from the Kids in America videotape on TV. Sensation. The city rolled into the girl’s room from half-open blinds, cool cat was looking for a kitty. The pop sections of magazines go Wilde-Wilde-Wilde.

Hottest female artist of the year, future queen of pop? “Yes, absolutely,” says the legendary record producer Mickie Most, under whose cover Kimin is good. The first album was finished rushing to the summer market. Concerts and gigs in front of a live audience will have to wait.


Kim’s father was once a popular pop singer, the smiling and good-looking Marty Wilde, at his best in 1959-61 Cliff Richard’s third challenger. Hits from the tube: Endless sleep, Donna, A Teenager In Love, Bad boy, Jezebel; film parts; Conrad Bird in the hit musical Bye bye Birdie; marriage, change of label, oblivion.

“Dad is also a pop singer, and so is my brother Ricky, although he works mainly as a producer now,” says Kim. “I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about pop music myself, the music played at home didn’t excite me. Sometimes in my teenage years I listened to Elvis, Aretha Franklin, Joni Mitchell, Brian Eno, and here we are.”

Kim gigged with her parents, sang “shoo-wop-shoo-waddy” backgrounds, earned some pocket money, until the big “family show” experienced a shipwrecked butt once again. The gigs increased Kim’s self-confidence and the desire to become an emerging artist.
“The final push came at a girls’ school when I got to know three from higher classes who were into art,” explains Kim. “We formed our own clique that clearly stood out from the others, and we had a blast. I studied acting, dancing and visual arts for a year. I was dating, I was in love, out of touch with reality, and I didn’t feel the need for real rebellion. Punk sort of slipped past me.”

The present

One of Kim’s biggest concerns is that, according to her, people don’t really appreciate celebrity brats. They are believed to be almost invariably spoiled, incapable and shaken. “I hope I’m not like that,” Kim sighs, as if she doesn’t know.
Leisure activities speak for themselves. Kim makes charcoal drawings, studies the masters of the impressionist style (Manet, Pissarro, Courbet, Monet), enjoys the kitchen and loves Japanese watercolor paintings.
“I built an artificial pond for my fish in the yard when I couldn’t bear to watch the nymphs frolicking in a regular aquarium,” explains Kim. “While lifting heavy concrete slabs, I blistered my hands and sprained my neck! They are swimming there now, it’s good to watch them.”
Kim says that she is quite romantic, that she likes feminine things. The girl usually gets her clothes from Oxfam’s thrift stores or Dr. Barnardos. Jeans, blouses, half jackets, preferably dark rather than light or colorful. The fashion trends of the day doesn’t bother Kim, not even a bit.