Anna and Bob Marley: WTF?!
Imagine our surprise when we found out via The Merry Page Sixxies that Icy Vogue Editrix Anna Wintour spent a smouldering week with Ethiopian God Bob Marley in the 70s. That's ... kind of cool. Not dead-shark-eyes-behind-the-Chanel-sunglasses-icy-cool, mind you, but, like, you know ... human. The Corsair kind of wants to give her a high five. Or something.
"In 'Front Row: The Cool Life and Hot Times of Vogue's Editor in Chief,' due next month from St. Martin's, Jerry Oppenheimer recounts how in the late '70s, Wintour's pal, Island Records founder Chris Blackwell, introduced the fashionista to Marley and got her a backstage pass to one of Marley's shows in New York. She immediately 'fell for' the pot-smoking musician.
"She was 'riveted' and acted as if she'd 'met God,' one friend tells Oppenheimer, who reports she 'virtually disappeared for a week' while notorious womanizer Marley was in town, spending all her time backstage.
"When Wintour finally resurfaced, she looked utterly worn out from her exertions with the rasta legend, but denied to friends she'd spent the week in Marley's bed. Pals didn't buy it and assumed she merely wanted to keep him to herself."
Okay, leaving aside the entirely unnecessary (but infinitely amusing) "she looked utterly worn out from her exertions" mention, here's what we think may have occurred:
Bob Marley: Yeah, mon. You an imperious icy woman. Yunno? Try dis here herb. Seen? Then make we try mebbe something ... Gwan ...
Anna Wintour: "Herb?" Usually, men give me fat emeralds.
Bob Marley: Him make this fat and green, Miss Wicked, but 'tis no emerald. That ganja that y'have deh (hands herb to Anna; waxes philosophical): Sensemilia be semi-precious. Seen? Me tested out the good herb and . . . 'twas very exotic. BOOF! The ingredients move through you ... start to create prophetic inspiration. Yunno?
Anna: Well, okay (tosses caution to the wind), we'll give it the old college try (smokes the sensimilia) ..pfft!
Bob: (Drums on table) Mmmmhmmmm! Gnarley. It happen (Tokes). We creatin' music, woman. Seen? I prophetically looking in the future.
Anna: (Now Dancing, pulls Marley closer) This is thoroughly enlightening.
Bob: (Starled) Y'cyaan't do that.
Anna: (Whispering in Marley's ear) Oh ... Bumbaclot ...
Anna: (Kissing Bob's neck) -- Bumbaclot: noun, rasta slang, Jamaican curse; meaning: ass rag ... I think we understand each other now (Removes Marley's belt). We "bredren" now ... Seen?
Bob: Lard! Me know what dem means (Averted Gaze). Spiritual evil forces got holda you, Miss Wicked. Speaking in tongues. Seh what?
Anna: (undressing Marley) We're living in a world of ignorance, where everything that is righteous is condemned ...
Bob (Intrigued): Yes mon!
Anna: Let's do it for Emperor Haile Selassie ... Yunno?
Bob: True, true ...
Or something like that.
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