On a few rare occasions (often at the end of a night), I’ve confided to my friends that Tina Turner was one of my biggest celebrity crushes. The revelation has usually been met with some surprise, and not unreasonably. Born in 1939, Tina was older than my mother and nearly 40 years older than me.
But to me, she was a complete goddess from the moment I first encountered her. I vividly recall a white button-down shirt and figure-hugging blue jeans (probably the Foreign Affair tour of 1990) and an awakening of teenage desire.
Turner has died aged 83. Reflecting now on her 50-year-long career, I can see the threads that made her the perfect icon for the young queer feminist I was in the early 90s. She was a strong and resilient woman who escaped the control of abusive men and went on to forge a stronger solo career afterwards.
