The Groupie conundrum

By Eleanor Pitt

In a post MeToo era, can the iconic fashion and social influence of the groupie coexist with a feminist state of mind?

With my purple velvet flares and a scarlet shirt tied at my breasts I have achieved the look. A shaggy, wild haircut hangs in my eyes, which are glittering and darkly lined, and a few necklaces hang down my front, mismatching and messy as are my rings and bangles. I am quietly looking at myself in the mirror, intent in my stare. I look like one of them - the mystical, cool, fairy woman - a flower child, but not quite: she has an edge, a defiance, a rebelliousness. She can be soft and maiden-like, or she can be strong, sexual, brash. She’s all these things at once. 

I first became interested in 60s/70s groupies when I was about 17 years old. I saw pictures of them on Pinterest, and I was hooked. Honestly, I’ve never been super into late 60s or early 70s rock - the only musician of this place and time I ever truly loved was David Bowie. But even so, the fashion and atmosphere of this era has been hugely influential in my personal style and artistic reference. Anyway, here’s what I do know for certain: the rock and roll of the late 60s and early 70s, its rampant sexuality, and its confrontation of the everyday and the safe, was a hugely influential moment in music and popular culture. It caused an important shift in the way we thought about and talked about a huge number of issues - most notably sex - as well as producing iconic music that would influence generations to come.

But in recent years, the #MeToo movement has confronted uncomfortable and dangerous situations that women throughout the entertainment industry have faced at a systemic level. As the gender politics of celebrity and entertainment became more and more scrutinized, I started to examine the world of 60s/70s rock in this light; for all its talk of rebellion, the classic rock scene still seemed essentially to reproduce the status quo of the outside world in terms of gender roles. To me this is keenly felt in the case of the groupie, my original inspiration.

Groupie. What does the word make you think of? According to Merriam-Webster, a groupie is ‘a fan of a rock group who usually follows the group around on concert tours.’ This definition, while mostly accurate, ignores the definite sexual undertone that is often ascribed to groupies, and that was certainly present in the scene. During the 60s and 70s, groupies were just another part of the wild tapestry of sex, drugs, and rock and roll that hung across the Sunset Strip and beyond. But there is no question that then and now, their cultural legacy both as the free rock and roll chick, and as the sad, abused girl taken advantage of by older, more powerful men, lives on.

This is what often bothers people about groupies: the power dynamic. A rock music icon, selling out show after show, famous throughout the country and maybe even the world, has more power both socially and monetarily than most of the women ‘with the band’- usually in their teens or early twenties, often without a job, hanging around a band or star’s troupe until they got a chance to be in its innermost circle. And these women and girls, often by their own admission, whilst fans of the music first and foremost, were attracted by the stardom of the person/people to whom they chose to get close. Were they particularly vulnerable to the celebrity influence of these musicians? 

Yet, many of the groupies did have some power and influence in the music scene. They often contributed towards the wardrobes and makeup of the bands through the influence of their own. The groupie fashions of the period are creative, outlandish: scarves become skirts, white dinner gloves are worn as an everyday accessory, and the girls are adorned in an array of fairytale colours. Long dresses, long hair, and dreamy, sometimes literally clown-inspired, makeup (makeup that was said to have inspired the band KISS’ stage paint in the legendary groupie and writer Pamela Des Barres’ case). The influence of the way they dressed in my eyes was akin to many music fashion icons of that time: if Bowie was notable for the way he blurred the lines of masculinity and femininity, many of the groupies could be said to be just as notable for their reinvention of modern and historical forms of female sexuality and femininity.

They were also a direct inspiration for the music of these bands. Countless examples exist of songs written about groupies: songs like ‘Plaster Caster’, directly named after Cynthia Plaster Caster, a groupie from Chicago who had the - some would say odd - habit of making moulds of 70s rock icons’ penises. There’s also the more disturbing inspiration behind Iggy Pop’s ‘Look Away’ that begins with ‘I slept with Sable when she was 13’in reference to a real 13 year old girl known as Sable Starr that Iggy Pop had a relationship with for several years. It cannot be forgotten that there are too many famous groupies of this era that were underage. A notable example of this is Lori Mattix - a so-called ‘baby groupie’, often pictured with the aforementioned Sable Starr. Rumored to have lost her virginity to David Bowie, she was also in a relationship with Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin from the age of 13 to 16 (he was in his 20s). It is interesting to discuss how the social attitudes towards an underage girlfriend may have changed from the 60s/70s, but what doesn’t change is the fact that a 13-year-old is a child who cannot consent. Sometimes the groupies attitude changes towards her experiences. In 2018, post MeToo, Mattix was asked whether her viewpoint on her experiences had changed from previous interviews where she defended Page and others. Although still neutral to positive about her experience, she is nonetheless quoted as saying ‘I wouldn’t want this for anyone’s daughter.’ In my opinion, the underage status of these groupies is a part of their cultural legacy. Even if not underage, it is important to acknowledge that a key part of the groupie identity of this time is being young and beautiful in a man’s eyes. Although the groupie is the wise-cracking, sensual, self-dubbed ‘foxy lady’ who knows what she wants, she is also the youthful, flitty fairy in a world of older rockstars who feel powerful when she’s around. And sometimes, she is a child.

The groupies’ typically younger age was just one part of the power imbalance implicitly present in the interactions between musicians and groupies. Another part was undoubtedly gender.  Although there were female rock musicians such as Janis Joplin and Patti Smith that were incredibly influential during this period, it’s safe to say that groupies outnumbered them. And if there were male groupies, they certainly were not canonized into rock culture in the same way as their female counterparts. So in the 60s/70s rock world, it is clear that typical Western gender roles are largely reproduced. When we look back on the history of rock music, and of most popular art in the Western canon, a message is transmitted clearly: men make the art, women witness and support it, or maybe get to inspire it. Women are passive, men are active. Boys play in bands, girls listen.

Even in their loudest creative expression, their unique style, hints of the male gaze on groupies exist. Sometimes their outfits are bold and impractical with an obvious emphasis on their bodies and sexuality: short skirts, high clunky shoes, heavily made up eyes that look wide and almost childlike. In their most maiden-like, whimsical outfits I see the mystical allure of the archetypal groupie: something they may have been trying to produce to get the attention and support of rockstars. To survive in this world, to be a groupie, hinges on the attention of male musicians, so conforming to a certain kind of vision they have for women seems necessary, and I believe many of these young women did so whilst also being described and photographed through a male lens.

Isn’t this part of the groupie mystique, though? A woman who conforms to the male gaze, who likes the attention of men, but on her terms, and who perhaps willingly uses this as a springboard for her own career or legacy. The groupies of this time were pioneers of young female sexuality and exploration, but could only exist in our patriarchal context.  Using the tools at their disposal, groupies carved out a place for women in the rock world that has had a lasting impact on culture, fashion and music to this day. Even if they weren’t a part of the creation and distribution of this music, we can’t discount their legacy. I, for one, refuse to write them off as a bunch of silly young girls who were all abused by older men and that’s the end of that. Many women look back on their time as groupies fondly - one of whom is ‘Miss Pamela’ Des Barres. When asked about her status as a groupie in the wake of MeToo, specifically the Weinstein expose, Des Barres said ‘…It [her life in the 60s/70s] was a whole other universe. And I hope that people will see my life as the choice for freedom.’ While questioning the actions of the men who had more control of this period, we can also allow these women to define their own experiences and identity and can celebrate their legacies. Even if a groupie had questionable or bad things happen to her - is this all she should be remembered by? I don’t think so. 

Undoubtedly, the groupie’s legacy is complicated, and is a product of an even more sexist world of rock music, that had little regard for the safety of young women and girls. But I cannot help but claim my artistic and stylistic inspiration from the label ‘groupie.’ I feel seen by these iconic women creating their own narrative and image of themselves in a patriarchal world. I am too.