Hold On To What You've Got

Hold On To What You've Got

Lisa Robinson

by

Here she comes You’d better watch your step She’s gonna break your heart in two. (From “Femme Fatale” by Lou Reed/ Velvet Underground)

Girls, they are such fragile stuff Girls, they really protect their stuff... (From “Girls” by John Phillips, sung by Genevieve Waite)

It wasn’t until I saw and heard Genevieve Waite sing that I decided I could finally write the proper thing about Miss Christine, who died two years ago this fall. Miss Christine was, for the purpose of the rock and roll archives, 1) a GTO, 2) Frank Zappa’s housekeeper when she was barely out of high school, 3) the first person to put Alice Cooper in a dress and 4) friend, influence, confidante, and paramour to many fortunate people — musicians in particular. In another age she would have been thought of along the lines of such graceful courtesans as Diane de Poitiers, Madame Recamier or more likely, the Contessina di Medici, (who never really slept with any of the Renaissance artists but who were all in love with her just the same — Michelangelo included.. .Botticelli used her for the model of his Venus, etc...)

Of course in the midst of much of the liberated tackiness of the 1960’s — style, charm, grace, you know — old fashioned values — got lost somehow, .. .overlooked. If a beautiful girl was backstage at a rock concert one assumed that she was a groupie. That’s the last time you’ll hear that word from me in this column; for it was one of the tragedies of Christina’s life that certain people defined her lifestyle in that limited manner, Limited people and limited magazines did that.

She was very tall, stood about 5’9”. Incredibly thin. Stylish — my god, she had so many clothes, so many ensembles — every outfit was a work of art. She once wrote to me: “Some people look great in casual clothes, but I just love dressing upv It’s just like playing dolls, except that I’m the dolly. I do like to see men in suits. California is so casual, all the vety rich people here dress like hippies. Oscar Wilde wouldn’t like this at all.” But he would have adored Christina. She came to my house once for a two week visit with five suitcases; twenty five bangle bracelets, scads of antique scarves, and maribou capes in every shade of the rainbow. Satin pantsuits from Granny Takes a Trip years before anyone else had them. Really. Platform shoes that made her taller than all the boys she had crushes on (“I love having crushes,” she told me once, “It takes my mind off of anything miserable in my life.”), but she carried it all off with incredible aplomb. Long, flowing, curly hair. “Everyday I like to create something new, be a new character,’ she wrote in one of her letters. “When I was in the GTO’s I was on a kick where I wore long crinkly wire in my hair. That was tons of fun, that was my Doctor Seuss look. And I felt absolutely no limitations.”

Oh -A Christina was a vision, I tell you. And the point is — she was so decorative to her surroundings, she made us all feel so much more special because of her presence. It didn’t matter whether she was living with Todd, or receiving letters from David Gilmour, or having Rod Stewart sing backup on her lp, or advising Cindarella on her courtship with John Cale, or telling Half-' nelson (currently Sparks) to go and watch Iggy, or putting Alice’s eye makeup on. She was really so much more interesting, more important, really — than any of the men she was involved with. And we knew it — and perhaps we didn’t take care of her properly. M&ybe we didn’t really know that much about her — what her hopes, plans, dreams and ambitions were. She and Cyndy were trying to write their “memoirs” and call it “A Lighter Shade of Mocha by . the Raquel Tequita Sisters” (and I dare anyone to try and rip that off) but I don’t know if it was a serious project. She knew she should perform — but her whole life was a performance really. Brought up a good Catholic girl, she was the first one I knew who used the word rude and meant it the right way. Some suggested modeling. She couldn’t shlep portfolios around to magazines though, too demeaning. Someone really needed to “DISCOVER” Christina in that old Hollywood sense. To take care of her and protect h6r and be her mentor... her Pygmalion. “I remember the first night I went to Max’s to hear the Velvets play,’’ she wrote me, “I met you and you seemed so sweet. I was so frightened because I caipe on my own. I was so sick of sitting home alone. > .if it wasn’t for Danny Fields I would have never met anyone.” And — “Even when I’m supporting myself I usually don’t take care of myself. I like someone else to be worrying with me, that I don’t catch cold, etc...” Christina was one of those ladies who should be wrapped in fur, driven around in limousines, lie on a chaise lounge and jrick at bon-bons, and receive lots and lots of flowers. (The funny thing was she was the only girl I ever knew who would send a dozen red roses to a boy she fancied, with her photo stuck in the midst of the bouquet; that was her way of introduction. What style. Boys stopped sending flowers a long time ago.)

Well — at any rate, she was fragile, and she needed protection. And this is what I am struck by when confronted with Genevieve Waite I never saw Joanna — the movie she starred in in the 1960’s that people think made her famous — and I know little about her relationship with John Phillips other than they are married, he writes great songs for her, and they seem very close. But I know that when I saw her perform even briefly at Le Club at a press party to “introduce” her to the media, I thought of Christine. It wasn’t Genevieve’s voice — although it was littlegirl-lost and vulnerable (not so Betty Boop as some say as much as Diana Ross or early Ronnie Spector I think), nor the frizzed out blond curls or that innocent look.. .it was the fragility. John backing her up with an acoustic guitar and a semi-maniacal grin (as he was to do for one week some months later at Reno Sweeney’s) or Mick Jagger beaming at her, or the pop-Warholscenemaker set adoration had nothing to do with it. She — Genevieve — was so much more important than any of that stuff. She was adorable and everyone fell in love with her. I know that I didn’t take her lp — Romance Is On the Rise, appropriately on Paramour Records — off my turntable for one week straight. John Phillips may be guiding her — and she may be as tough as steel underneath, but that’s okay. Someone is doing something lovely, and delightful, and it’s to be welcomed. And I can only think that since Christine didn’t really get the chance to reach as many people as she should have in this lifetime... well, I’m glad Genevieve Waite is around to make us all smile and think about romance and act civilized. ®