I met and photographed Anthony Price some years after I had met one of his extraordinary models, -Amanda Lear, cover star of Roxy Music's 'For Your Pleasure' album. I was assistant to Roger Stowell and we had this job, if you can call it a job, for Penthouse where we were covering the London scene of restaurants and clubs, which meant we were on virtually 24/7 and sampling all the delights of same, although I drew the line at The Sombrero in Kensington High Street, an early gay club when such things weren't commonplace.

But back to Amanda Lear, I just happened to be placed next to her for lunch in The Casserole in Kings Road, and being only (very) young and naive, I think she enjoyed coming on to me and being a general tease, no doubt fully aware of all the rumours of her being a sex change, which put the wind up me a bit, despite the fact that she was totally stunning.

Some time after this she became a disco star (bigger on the continent than the staid Blighty who could only just about cope with Village People), and I became a huge fan. Later still she went on to become Salvador Dali's muse, although this may have been the case even then, as more rumours abounded that he had paid for the old cut and tuck, essentially turning this particular Arthur into Martha. Or maybe it was all just a big publicity stunt and convenient at the time, what with her deep baritone voice and the androgynous fashions of the time. Amanda Lear went on to become an artist too and was exhibiting in Barcelona recently when I went there.

Some time later still, I bumped into Cosmo Fry at a retro fair and we got to talking about Amanda Lear as I was selling some of her records (he took up an armful of vinyl, -he's stuck in an eighties groove, says that's all he listens to). I told him of my lunch with her and he told me of his own encouter with Miss Lear. His involved a date of sorts and going back to her place, whereupon she left the room to run a bath, but came back dressed only in some sort of basque or corset. He said he took one look at her hands and one look at her feet and then made a run for it!

Her dulcet tones still resonate in my impressionable bonce with ‘Give a bit of mmmm to me, and I’ll give a bit of mmmm to you...’