[RPF - But Not At All Real] Meet Tinsley Hale, American movie star and part time TOTP presenter.
Meet Damon Albarn, the pretty boy frontman for Blur. Meet a host of other real and unreal characters that made up Britain's music scene and L.A.'s teen...
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Of all the shit events Food Records sent Blur to in 1991, the Smash Hits Poll Winners Party had to be the shittiest.
"But, come on, you guys have been nominated. You have to show your appreciation!" someone somewhere might have said.
Except in no way was the Smash Hits crowd the target audience, and there was little chance the teenybopper voters would be heaping any adulation on an indie group. This was still the age of Jason Donovan, of Chesney Hawkes, of New Kids on the Block. The NME Awards, maybe even the Brits, would make sense, even if they weren't in the running, but this was a joke, an absolute joke.
Damon Albarn stood with his band and his girlfriend Justine, laughing over how absolutely naff this whole event was, when some musclebound brute pushed past him. He looked up, assuming it was a security guard, only to be make eye contact with Mark Wahlberg (better known in those days as Marky Mark).
The teen pin up idol saw the whole group and gave them the same "devilish smirk" he was so famous for in those days, and said, "What're you guys, a bunch of roadies? You gotta watch yourselves, yo." He then started walking again, then stopped to look Justine up and down. "Yo. Sup, girl. You wit' any of these guys?"
Justine couldn't help but laugh out loud at the twenty year old's attempt at a pick up line. "Yeah," she said, still snickering and wrapping her arms around Damon's waist. "And these guys aren't roadies. They're in a band. Not a group. A band, with instruments. My boyfriend here, Damon, and Graham," she stops to point out Graham Coxon, who is missing his trademark glasses on this night, "they write their own songs. It's a novel little idea, I know, but I think it might go just a bit further you and the Fuzzy Bunch, or whatever your group's name is."
"Hey," another woman's voice cut in. This voice was American. It had a sound that made Damon recall the film Valley Girl.
Ironically, that voice belonged to a film actress who wasn't from the particular picture. It belonged to a woman who, upon entering the conversation inspired her song. That woman was Tinsley Hale.
"Mark writes all of his own rap verses," the eighteen year old protested, wrapping herself around Mark as protectively as Justine had clung to Damon. "Besides, who even are you guys? Roadies?"
"We're Blur," Damon said. "We're gonna be around a lot longer than your boyfriend's music career, so get used to our faces."
"Yeah, okay, whatever," Tinsley shot back. "Good luck breaking America. After all, EMF are really thriving over there right now. We're all singing 'Unbelievable'...and then not buying Schubert Dip in droves."
"I think we're a bit better than EMF, sweetheart," Alex James says, flipping his dark hair. "We're playing a gig at the Roxy in L.A. in November. You two should get tickets. Expand your musical horizons."
Mark scoffs. "We're busy. Got better things to do. You know how it is."
"Thanks for the invite," Tinsley says. "But no thanks." She turns to Justine with an evil grin and says, "You are so lucky."
"I mean, me, I practically have to beat groupies off Mark with a stick," she goes on. "But obviously you don't have that problem. I mean, we're at an event packed with rabid fans, and I see no girls flitting around your boyfriend, or even his bandmates. You've really got it easy, dont'cha?"
"That's because Damon's fans are older than fourteen," Justine says with a placid, icy smile. "I'm really sorry the training bra crowd poses such a threat to you, though."
"...Touché," Tinsley says, her face reveal that Justine's hit a target with her remark. "I think I will come see this gig at the Roxy. I'll put the date in my planner, so I can remember to pick up a pair of tweezers for your boyfriend's eyebrow."
The pair of teen idols storm off, as the fourth best indie act, according to the Smash Hits poll, watch them walk off with satisfied smirks.
"She's fit," Alex remarks. "I should have got her number."
"You have a girlfriend, don't you," Graham points out. "Besides, she's barely old enough to think."
"I don't think she'll ever reach that age," Damon notes. "What a charmless little snake of a woman."
