Boy George, prison, drugs and you

A few weeks or months later I went to the opening party of his B-rude store in Shoreditch. He had a huge entrance, but was visibly off his nut. He DJd, but tracks were skipping. We were sat together later that night, but he had constant attention from young rent boys. Personally I found it depressing. Like he was being preyed upon by ADIDAS-clad hyenas.

The next time I saw George was at the opening night of his tour at a theatre in Euston. As soon as he came on stage, you could see he’d been on something. You could tell he was nervous, and at the start of the first song dropped the mike. He was wearing sunglasses. Initially it was awkward to watch, but when he calmed down he tore the place down.

I don’t know Boy George but the occasions that I met him, he’s had an enormous energy around him. I had a good feeling about him. But it seems the tragedy in all this is the fact that it’s yet another gay man who has succumed to drugs and allowed them to take control of him. OK – it may be a line here, another pill there, but it all adds up.