Kim Wilde : A family rock affair

[Translated for Wilde Life by Sabine Latour]

Kim Wilde, yummy, slurp! That name makes me tremble and drool with delight as all these very suggestive images linked to it go across my mind. Kim Wilde… Can she be that luscious and so desirably blond? Oh yes, she is! I know it as I saw her on TV yesterday and I can still feel the shivers that went along my spine. Could someone just give me her address? I’d drive my Harley Davidson Electra Glide with those leopard skinned seats up to her front door and bark at the moon like a wolf on her doormat! She would have to open the door, eventually and then… “Shriek!” For God sake, when will that bloody record player stop sliding at the end of “Kids in America”???? It surely isn’t the record player who will flirt with Kim Wilde! Speaking of which, if it had seen her the other day on TV, it would have taken its hat off for her…
That’s it, I remember now! The way she stands cheekily, her sultry voice voice, and those lips! My mother! This is it, I can’t stand it anymore, I absolutely must get myself a coloured TV. But why is that blond pin-up always pouting? Surely we don’t get many of these girls anymore these days, but please could someone show her how to say “Cheese”; her pout is totally unbearable, like the one of any lolita or baby doll for that matter. Well, at least, that’s something. Now, dear reader, let’s just imagine we are an invisible camera. Hey take it easy guys, just in the street, nothing more. Don’t start figuring out indelicate descriptions. Just imagine a few hours in London – red bricks, clubbing bobbies – along with the one whose blazing hair gets you hot at night. Dream on, readers! Imagine that you’re striding along that black London asphalt in your sharp boots, giving your left arm to an amazon named Kim Wilde and holding a pile of her records in your right. Mad cocktail, innit! Can you imagine her undulating a bit like the river Thames, and taunting City bankers who take a double take to look at her and you while you’re walking down the street together. You are totally mad, that’s what you are! There’s no more Kim Wilde holding your left arm than peanut butter in your spinach! Just take in her cat-like grace in these shots.

Subtitles for pictures :
Kim Wilde in London. Above : In Picadilly Circus, bearing a worried look while standing across from the neon lights. Below : with one of those Englishmen who could be you if you weren’t where you are.
Coming out of her car, Kim Wilde looks more delicious than ever. Just look at her amazon-like bearing!