Initials B.B.

Even today, for men of a certain vintage, there is a shift of blood to body parts* at the mention of French chanteuse, provocatrice and all-round symbol-de-sex, Brigitte Bardot.

As with many icons of the 60s, many are the imitations, but few have the secret sauce. (And how does one stand on the shoulders of diminutive giants anyway?). Not only was BB délicieux to look at, she actually had quite good pipes, and could carry a tune. Which, again, bar-99% of moppets today can't do either.





Plus (or, as the French say, plus!), her contribution to the Serge Gainsbourg canon is infused with her Gauloise-blue, cigar-scented, Harley rumbling, spellbinding mystique.






Yes, at times, even the blog gnomes at Power's Towers turn purple into puce. But let's face it, you would, wouldn't you?

Here's Serge's muse at work.





* Not there! We're a fambly blog! To the cheeks!

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