I don’t have very many regrets in life to speak of, but I was reminded of one of the greatest this morning: that the great Grace Jones wasn’t actually present at the party I attended at her flat in the Chelsea Hotel, in 1992 or so.

In her absence, the most memorable thing about that party was the discovery that Keith Haring had painted her entire bathroom, every last surface of it. The toilet seat was a mouth, and I am delighted to be able to say I have peed thereinto. Never did meet Grace, though. : . (