In 1984, a billboard featuring a pouting, pneumatic blond woman appeared on Sunset Boulevard, the most feted thoroughfare in Los Angeles. “Angelyne rocks,” it declared. There was a phone number and nothing else. Any onlookers curious enough to call got through to her management: would they like to book Angelyne? I don’t know, those callers would probably have answered, who is Angelyne? Within a decade, there were 200 Angelyne billboards around LA – and still it was no clearer who Angelyne was or what she did. “I’m famous for being on billboards,” she told one bemused interviewer.
Over the years, not much more was learned about Angelyne. She came from the midwest, she said, sometimes mentioning Idaho. There were no romances, no children. She sang in a punk band, did some art. Angelinos might see her driving in one of her many pink Corvettes, sometimes stopping to pout on the hood, or sell photos and merchandise. Investors, she said, were paying for the billboards, and the returns became obvious when she began appearing on screen.
