"My 15 Seconds"
The Daily Northwestern
November 7, 1997
Thanks to Jason Briggeman

All I wanted was a pair of clunky black boots. A simple Belmont stop on a simple Monday afternoon. Too demure, awkward laces, not quite fun-kay enough. Even at Ragstock, that perennial hub of all things cool, nothing. Not my day.

As I'm descending the rickety rackety metal stairs, two Swedish girls pass by me in the hall. I pull up my collar and exit to the alley. A swanky, tinted black Chevrolet Blazer breezes in. A tall bald stallion flags me over for directions upstairs.

I answer. Stop. Turn around. Giggle. And scampered back up after him.

Shoving my backpack into the annoyed attendant's cubby hole, I gravitate toward the women's apparel, approach the tall bald stranger and start to shake.

"I'm very sorry to bother you, Mr. Corgan, but I was wondering if you would be free for an interview anytime soon," I ask. (Always thinking of tgif [Daily Northwestern section], you see.)

I was too busy looking into those blue eyes -- Billy Corgan's blue eyes -- to hear the polite excuse. I didn't care, I was reducing my seven degrees of separation drastically.

"Well, I have a question for you -- what size woman's dress do you think I wear?" he asks, sweeping the knee-length wool frock from his thin frame and flaunting his lean, mean frame, I muse it over.

"Well, Billy," I say, feeling quite graced at this point. "You don't have those womanly hips, so I would say a size 10. But considering your height, I might go for a 12. Depends on the style, I suppose."

First he slips on a Snow White off-the-shoulder number. Not very flattering. His bodyguard insists on a tacky crushed velvet gown. Billy politely refuses. Then he stumbles across a lovely sky blue chiffon dress with tasteful lace trim. A perfect fit. Now, with the red wig off Ragstock's mannequin, he is well-dressed for an opening slot for Jane's Addiction.

Billy paid in cash.

And we parted our ways, perhaps forever.

"You're not going to print this in your newspaper, are you?" he asks. "Everyone thinks I am gay already."

"Your gown is a lovely shade of blue," I answer. "You have nothing to worry about."

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