Johnny Rotten | The Selvedge Yard

Jordan-– the sassy sado SEX clerk that would accomodate your purchase at the King’s Road Boutique.

Malcolm McLaren gets a lot of credit for carefully crafting The Sex Pistols’ schtick, sound, and look. His real-life partner and cohort in concocting, not only the look of The Sex Pistols, but the Punk movement at large was, as we all know– Dame Vivienne Westwood.

Her tartan bondage suits, leather studs, and shocking tees (I won’t get into the naughty bits) were the, eh-hem, uniform for the 1970’s punk movement that lashed-out against hygiene, authority, rules, corporate rock, and mainstream society as a whole. It was a cultural correction– a necessary reset that would inspire and create great music, art, and fashion to this day. It was quite a scene back then, with no shortage of characters in the Malcolm/Westwood mix– The Sex Pistols of course, as well as Siouxsie Sioux, and Chrissie Hynde, among others… oh, and of course Jordan. Oh my.

(Lt.) Jordan stands seductively in front of the King’s Road SEX boutique. (Rt.) McLaren & Westwood.

McLaren & Westwood’s SEX boutique on King’s Road in Chelsea started out in ’71 as a small record shop where McLaren and a friend peddled vinyl, magazines and rock memorabilia. It soon grew into Let It Rock– a hip “Teddy Boy” shop that sold used, as well as new fashions (designed by Malcolm’s school teacher gal-pal Westwood), that soon became all the rage for their creepers & pegged pants. It changed fashion direction in ’72 and was renamed Too Fast To Live, Too Young To Die until 1974, when it once again got a facelift.

Christened with 4 ft. tall hot pink foam letters mounted directly to the graffiti-covered storefront spelling-out the new shop’s namesake– SEX carried innovative and provocative fashions designed by Vivienne Westwood, as well as authentic bondage & fetish gear– creating a look called Punk. The list of names that frequented and/or worked at SEX reads like a “who’s who” of early Punk Rock history. Punk now had a name, a sound, and finally– an official shop, which would soon spawn imitators (BOY) ready to cash-in.

The infamous SEX boutique of Malcolm McLaren & Vivienne Westwood on King’s Road, Chelsea. via

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10 Mar 1977, London, England, UK — The punk rock group, The Sex Pistols, are about to be moved by a policeman as they sign a copy of their new recording contract with A & M Records outside Buckingham Palace. The next record to be released is called “God Save the Queen”. The band members (from far left to right) are John Lydon, Steve Jones, Paul Cook and Sid Vicious. — Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

I’m not gonna lie– life has been kicking my ass a little lately. It’s got me wantin’ to spit, sneer, and swear like Sid Vicious. But instead, I’ll humbly take my licks and lumps, and keep on pluggin’ along the best I know how. I actually have a feelin’ this could end up being one helluva year– for TSY and beyond.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here before, but I spend a ton of time in Dallas for business. I’ve been going down for years, and know it pretty well. Calling it my 2nd home is not a stretch by any means– it’s a cool town, and I’m very comfortable there. Lots of great people and good eats.

So, Friday I was having lunch at El Fenix with my buddy Bruce, who’s a few years older than me, and outta nowhere I ask him, “Hey, man– were you in Texas back in ’78 when the Sex Pistols rolled through on tour? You remember them?”

Well, his face lit-up like a Christmas tree as he said, “You mean that Sid Vicious kid? Yeah man, of course I remember it. It was a mess! He was runnin’ his mouth, spittin’, and swingin’ that bass around like a baseball bat on stage– mowin’ people down. They wanted to kill him!”

The Sex Pistols’ infamous Dallas, Texas show marquee at the Longhorn Ballroom (once owned by Jack Ruby) back in January of 1978– “Sid was really f*cked up. Really drunk. He played for a while without his guitar plugged in. He played for a while with a fish. I think somebody threw it up there, a bass or something. People seemed pissed at him. He’d spit on the audience; they’d spit on him. That’s what you did. There was this element of, ‘You paid to see us play?'”— The Austin Chronicle

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