Before he moved to Austria, Andre J was one of those unique, only-in-New-York personalities who made Manhattan seem cool and fun. He’s got a full, bushy beard and killer, painfully long legs. He grew up in a low-income housing project in Newark, New Jersey before moving to Manhattan to work as a party promoter. He eventually landed the cover of French Vogue after a well-known stylist spotted him on the street in the West Village.
His personal story makes you think that anything really can happen, if you’re creative and ambitious enough (with a personal look to match). When my old co-workers had Andre J sightings in Manhattan, they’d talk about it for days with wide eyes as if they’d spotted the mythological Loch Ness monster in the Hudson River. Lately, I’ve been hearing similar stories from people I know on this side of the Atlantic now that Andre has moved to London. He emailed me in June to tell me he’d be coming here to “spread positive energy around.” He arrived last week.
Clearly, word travels fast because a photographer friend of mine in Paris emailed me this morning to say that he “heard Andre is in town.” Andre says, “London to me feels like what New York used to be; I like the creative edge here. And Londoners are go-getters. I like that. I want to be a part of the creative revolution happening here.”
The people-watching during London Fashion Week should be that much more interesting.
-photo by Tinko Czetwertynski
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Too funny! I remember being in NYC this time last year with Lisa. We had just finished helping Lenny move Uptown and the two of us decided to take time away from the boys and window shop. When we spotted Andre J both of us were transfixed. He was greeting friends wearing a Pocahontassy, tan, fringe mini-dress and was all legs, beard and wig. Lisa was like “who in the world is that?”, and I was like “I think he’s famous. . .” You know how when you’re really little, and something you’ve never seen before catches your eye? All you can say is “Mommy Look!!” That’s how we were – it was hilarious! I was so entranced that I forgot about his French Vogue cover.