King of the wild frontier. Photograph: Tim Mercer/The Observer
This article by Ena Kendall was published in the Observer Magazine on 14 October 1984
Pop singer Adam Ant lives in a ground-floor flat in a late-Victorian house in North London.
He always refers to it in conversation as an apartment, the influence of a two-year sojourn in America, and he sees it as his “port of calm” in a, no doubt, restless sea of travel.
Mostly he has to work under blazing lights and he reacts to this in private life by preferring restful interiors, low light and muted colours. The contrast extends to himself.
Beneath the professional showiness of the pop performer, there is an apparently cool-headed and careful individual whose regularity of feature and clarity of skin is enhanced by the subtlest suggestion of make-up.
He was wearing black ankle-hugging trousers and a shirt with bushy-bearded portraits of Karl Marx over one pocket. The pictures signify nothing, certainly not political attachment.
“It’s a hand-made shirt I bought about seven years ago and the trousers the same. It’s called the anarchy shirt. I like the idea of there being some sort of anarchy in fashion, as there was in 1977, a year when I became involved in a sort of anarchy in pop music.
But I’m not the slightest bit interested in politics: if you said, what would you rather do, sit through politics or go to the dentist, I would much prefer to go to the dentist.”