It was August, 1969. I was married to Adam Linter who managed a club called The Salvation, on 1 Sheridan Square in New York City’s West Village. I used to go there early in the evening to dance. One night Jimi Hendricks was there, all by himself, just tuning his guitar. No one else was there. He saw me and sang a minute of “Foxy Lady,” then took off his wristband and gave it to me. It was animal skin. Continue Reading
My Sharon Tate look, 1969. Photos by Robert Lambert.