Photo by Louise Dahl-Wolfe, 1948
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Lorrie Collins was my wife’s aunt and I don’t know if “aunt-in-law” is a thing, but that’s what she was to me. That’s what she felt like to me. She passed away Saturday.
The thing I loved most about her was her laugh. She had a big untethered laugh. My favorite memory of her involves hearing that huge laugh go on and on as I recounted the story of a spa treatment she and Larry bought me once.
It came at the end of a difficult series of festival dates throughout England, Italy, and Spain. The tour manager, though a fantastic guy, was getting overwhelmed. So my wife and I, who were just along for the ride, stepped in as roadies. We made sure they were taken care of so the manager could focus on the business stuff.
During that tour, I saw firsthand how important it was for Lorrie and Larry to thank their fans. They would stay after a show signing autographs, not until they got tired, but until the line was gone. And sometimes that meant they were up until sunrise, meeting people and smiling the whole time. And we were there with them, making sure they were hydrated, taking care of their amazing guitars—stuff like that.
So, when the tour concluded in Calafell, Spain, they got us fancy spa treatments at the beach resort as a thank you. I’m not a spa guy, though. So when I told her her in vivid detail the bodily embarrassment of the process, she let that laugh roll like a wave. It was so loud and infectious, people at nearby tables stopped and turned to see what infectious joy was filling the room.
I loved Lorrie. She was rockabilly royalty. She was funny and strong and talented—my god, was she talented. And though she’s gone, her laugh still fills my heart.
TOP: Tara Starlet
CAPRIS: Voodoo Vixen
BANGLES: Splendette
SHOES: Bettie Page
BAG: Pinup Girl Clothing
SHADES: Crap EyewearReally missing my 50s/60s vintagey pin-up wardrobe & getting all dolled up. Missing a lot of things right now. Certainly got that summertime, summertime sadness. If you’ve been checking my instagram I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on abstract concepts. Existential crises & ego annihilation will do that. I can’t believe it’s August. I didn’t get to accomplish even a good fraction of what I wanted to this year, it ended up being sacrificed for maintaining my mental health. Which, gotta say, entered some rough territories. On the outside it may seem unwarranted, but the wandering mind is a curious thing. There’s a lot I could’ve did differently perhaps. But other things were also unavoidable. It’s hard to explain all that’s taken place so far this year, unless you’ve gone through something similar (but let me tell you, it’s all been an extremely unique set of experiences I haven’t heard of anyone dealing with in its totality, that I didn’t know was even possible). I always wanted a very normal, typical life. But every time I strive for normal I get just…something else.
So here’s to me. Good job Randi. You’ve had to be your own savior yet again. Keep surviving. Maybe we’ll get ‘em next year. Or maybe more weird/unfortunate shit will happen. Ain’t reality a blast?_______________________________
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46 glamorous photos of Terry Moore in the 1940s and 1950s.
44 cool snaps of fashionable girls from the 1940s.
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