As for the meat pies, an Aussie favourite, unfortunately we couldn’t get a licence to bring them in from Australia. We heard about a Texas company that was making the real thing, so we flew out there for a pie tasting. It wasn’t quite as a good as a wine tasting, but it was still fun. By the way, they were delicious.
In early 1983, at the grand opening at 7366 Melrose Avenue, Dame Edna Everage didn’t smash a bottle of champagne, but instead broke a bottle of Vegemite against the wall. This is a very salty Aussie staple that you have to grow up with to love. At least the Australian yachting team, who came to our opening, appreciated the joke. I encouraged our American guests to ‘try the Vegemite. You’ve got to try it. At least once!’
I just love it with avocado on toast. Maybe I’ll start a whole new trend here!
Reporters asked me about the name, so I explained that we thought about a million different ones. I came up with the most Australian thing I could think of: Koala. When we were driving around Sydney Harbour with that gorgeous azure sky, Pat came up with Blue. It was a shared duo thing yet again. There we had it: Koala Blue. I always loved acronyms, and amusingly, I realised that the first few letters of KOALA, might also stand for Korner of Australia in Los Angeles.
We printed up some t-shirts to give away at the opening with our Koala Blue logo on them. We had some left over and, not knowing what else to do with them, we put them up for sale in the store. We were sold out within two hours, so we made more shirts and found we couldn’t keep them in stock. We added sweatshirts to the line and they flew off the shelves before we could blink.
What we found in the coming months was that the people were not just hungry for meat pies and milkshakes, but also for Australian fashion and anything with Koala Blue on it. That’s when we expanded into a full-on retail clothing business, which was thrilling. Pat and I couldn’t contain our excitement at our new venture. We got to shop globally four times a year for ‘business reasons’ and took full advantage of it! We even hired our own designer, Linda, who helped us put our ideas into production.
No matter how busy I was touring or recording, I never ever, ever missed a KB shopping trip. Pat and I loved designing those semi-fitted sweatshirts, flowing rayon skirts with lace petticoats underneath, and oversized sweaters that were so chic and comfortable. We purchased fun aluminium earrings that were hand-painted in Australia, and other goodies. Pat and I had similar tastes, so it was easy for us to agree on the look. Often, we’d show up at work with the same outfit on!
I lived in Koala Blue clothes during those years because they were the kind of comfortable, go-to fashions that felt and looked good. I would get out of bed, toss on a Koala Blue shirt over jeans and start the day.
It wasn’t long before we expanded into books, jewellery, children’s clothing and artwork. Even the candles were imported. To keep the ‘down under’ vibe going strong, the store featured a video screen playing all the Aussie bands and, of course, Australian football – Aussie Rules!
Our milk bar was perfect for when I had a yen to go back home. It was a seven-seater where we sold milkshakes, plus Aussie snacks like lamingtons (vanilla sponge cake frosted with chocolate and sprinkled with coconut – give me some now!), Violet Crumbles, Tim Tams (our favourite biscuits), and Caramello Koalas.
Eventually, we expanded into a number of exotic locations across the world, including Japan, Canada, Australia, Singapore, Hong Kong and Hawaii. We went to nearly all the openings, where we’d serve Australian bubbly. At one point, we even had our own KB wine.
We were a big hit for quite a few years and I enjoyed having the stores as a new creative outlet. As for the business part, we left it up to the CEOs and business managers to deal with the bottom line. By 1990 there were thirteen corporate-owned stores, financed by me and Pat (our first mistake), and forty-nine licenced stores around the world.
By 1991, sadly, our Koala Blue company had to file for bankruptcy after eight years of being in business. Sales had started to falter due to rough economic times. We’d also expanded too fast, and when the recession hit we got badly hurt. I felt terrible for the investors who’d lost a lot of money, as we did.
We were partners and would go through this together. When we went through legal trouble in 1992, the powerhouse lawyer representing us, Marshall Grossman, suggested we each get our own lawyer. He was shocked when we looked at him and said, ‘No matter what happens, we’re in this together. Fifty-fifty.’ We were a duo – even when things went wrong. Unfortunately, we did the one thing you’re never supposed to do in business, which was invest our own money.
It was a sad ending to a lovely dream.
You’re the dream that I thought you’d be.
I love you completely, my Chloe.
In the early eighties, with my career going strong, I was ready to make another major change in my life. Matt and I began to see each other more seriously during the last months of shooting Xanadu.
It was a romantic time, and also one that made me laugh when he would stay with me at my hotel. In the morning, the hair and make-up artist from the film would arrive early and Matt would hide in the cupboard with a blanket and pillow, so he could get a few extra winks of sleep without anyone (except his girlfriend – me!) knowing he was there. The minute we would hear the knock on the door, he would grab his pillow and go hide.
No one knew that we had our first kiss at Will Rogers Park while taking a hike during production. Enough of my life was out in the world for public consumption.
I was keeping this for myself.
Living in our own little world was not only fun, but also a smart choice. We wanted to keep it private because the last thing I needed was splashy headlines about my personal life. Only my most inner circle were aware that I was crazy about Matt who loved to be in nature and enjoyed the same simple pleasures I did.
Some of the nicest memories I have of those times were driving into the wilderness and either camping out or sleeping in a van. So much for craving a posh lifestyle! Give me a moon, stars and a tent! We’d go for long walks and hikes up into the mountains and sleep by a beautiful, tranquil lake. In the mornings, we’d catch fresh fish for breakfast before hiking up a rocky path to places unknown. It was so peaceful, which was the exact opposite of my busy life on tour. We even went to Napa Valley with my dad, and Matt drove us around to all of the gorgeous vineyards for lazy days of wine tastings and delicious food.
Eventually Matt moved into my Malibu house with the horses, dogs and cats, who all adored him. He was natural and refreshing. Matt liked to drive and took me on splendidly long road trips. These were all things I’d missed because I’d started working at such a young age. I’ve always thought that Matt was helping me live the childhood that I never experienced.
I loved how Matt came from a big family of nine siblings. My parents lived in different cities and I grew up in part as an only child after my brother and sister moved away. His big, friendly family with all of their laughter and energy around me felt like a warm blanket. When I was with Matt’s family, I was just his girlfriend – nothing more or less. I did the dishes and helped his mom stir the spaghetti sauce. There was none of the big star stuff.
One of Matt’s sisters, Brenda, then sixteen, latched on to me like I was a big sister. I adored her and took her under my wing. There was no talk of Hollywood or rock stars or ‘who do you know’. There was simply great food, and quite a lot of it, always on the stove, in the oven and on the table – plus lots of fun and laughter. Matt’s mom was Polish and his dad was Italian, and both loved to spend time in the kitchen creating something delicious. The holidays we spent with them were exactly what I craved.
Matt and I travelled a lot, and I enjoyed seeing the world with him. I can’t remember him formally proposing or even calling my dad in Australia to ask for my hand. All of a sudden, we were simply making wedding plans, despite the fact that the magazines screamed that there was an age gap between us. What age gap? Who cared?
Matt and I had
been together for five years and we were at the point of: get married now or forget it. Relationships need to move forward and this was our next step. I decided to take the plunge, despite my fears of marriage.
I was terrified to marry Matt but this had nothing to do with him as a person. I was petrified of marriage because I was so afraid of divorce since I’d suffered emotionally from my parents’ break-up. I’d also watched Rona go through two divorces that were not pretty, and that took my fear level into the red.
When the time came, though, to my amazement, I said those vows with no trepidation. On 15 December 1984, we were married at my ranch with seventy close friends, my mum, dad, sister and brother plus Matt’s entire family in attendance. It rained that day, but that didn’t dampen our joy – not even for a minute. My beautiful dog Jackson was my ring bearer and we tied the ring to his collar. Jackson was always attached to me like glue – including at the altar.
We honeymooned in Paris, where Matt bought me a beautiful pearl and diamond engagement ring. We had never done things in the supposed right order – but it worked for us.
As we were saying our vows, I was hiding a major secret from everyone. I had fallen pregnant while we were planning the wedding and lost the baby. I had a few miscarriages during my marriage and each time my heart was broken.
In 1985, I suspected I might be pregnant again. I had been craving avocados for days. Racing off to the store, I couldn’t wait to get home and take one of those over-the-counter pregnancy tests. I was thirty-seven at the time, peeing on a stick, and the news was great. I was going to have a baby!
What made it even sweeter was the fact that my dear girlfriend Nancy and her new husband Jim, married within a few months of us, soon also found out that they were pregnant. I had told her to ‘hurry up’, so we could do this together. We were due at the same time and even went to the same obstetrician. ‘We’re having twins,’ Nancy and I would joke. It was so much fun to go through our pregnancies with each other.
We went through her morning sickness (I was fine and didn’t throw up once), bought all the books of what to expect while we were expecting, and planned our future nurseries while waddling around our homes. Nancy would call me with graphic descriptions of her bathroom bouts, and I would say, ‘I’m sorry, love. I was a bit out of sorts this morning, had a spot of tea and it settled down.’
One evening we took Nancy and Jim to a party at Sandy Gallin’s house in Beverly Hills. Sandy was one of the most powerful managers in the entertainment industry and was even part of the team that booked The Beatles for their first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show. He worked with Elizabeth Taylor, Cher, Dolly Parton, Whoopi Goldberg and Michael Jackson. Sandy was the person who helped me fall in love with orchids because beautiful ones were all over his house.
His parties were major events and at this one we were treated to a psychic’s revelation about the upcoming births of our children. The psychic told me, ‘Your child is a teacher. She is going to come into the world to help you learn. The baby will change your life and is an old soul.’
I couldn’t wait to meet my special gift.
I absolutely loved being pregnant and took a break from my touring life to enjoy this charmed time. All I wanted to do was to experience it while hanging out at home. My third trimester days were spent on my comfy floral couch in my favourite pale-blue oversized KB t-shirt knotted over my right hip and matching long skirts. I loved the tiny bulge protruding from my tummy that slowly turned into a large round bump. Matt and I were so excited about impending parenthood.
We decided to remodel the Malibu ranch house. I wanted to add a couple of rooms for the baby and made sure they would be ready for my due date in March. I wanted this done, but I was also superstitious about it and didn’t want to do too much before he or she was born. For the longest time, I didn’t even buy any maternity clothes. I didn’t want to know if I was having a boy or a girl. I wouldn’t tempt fate.
We did go over a few names: Chloe for a girl; Jesse for a boy. Chloe perfume was my favourite at the time as was the clothing line.
I was still nervous because of the past miscarriages, but I pushed past that mentally and adopted a positive outlook. This time it would be fine. With the passing of each week, I was getting more excited, but I remained practical, too. I had ultrasounds to put my mind at ease; even though deep down in my heart I knew everything was fine, at my age, I still needed a little medical peace of mind. When I had my amniocentesis, my fears were calmed when I found out that the baby was healthy (thank God).
‘Do you want to know if it’s a girl or a boy?’ Dr Edward Liu, my hilarious OB-GYN, asked. (He is still in my life and we joke that we’ve been ‘together’ longer than any other man I’ve known.)
I didn’t want to know and neither did Matt. We craved the surprise.
At thirty-eight, I was considered an older mother, so I was being closely monitored. I even gave up my vigorous workout regimen. In those days, they called pregnant women over thirty-five ‘elderly multigravidas’, which sounded just awful. I didn’t dwell on that not-so-subtle ageism and just listened to Dr Liu’s advice. My exercise now consisted of gentle walks and swims. I ate right, stayed mellow, and took up gardening and knitting. I even tried the pottery wheel until I couldn’t get close enough to it with my belly. Somewhere I still have an orange handmade sweater and a blue, pink and yellow baby blanket that I knitted myself.
‘Physical’? Forget it! My feet were up on the couch. The rock-star siren image from my ‘Soul Kiss’ album cover, the one shot by Helmut Newton? Who was that woman? I was just a pregnant lady with swollen ankles and a big tummy.
I began to ease past my fears and even began planning to attend a Lamaze class. My real dream was to birth my baby underwater with the dolphins. I actually made inquiries to see if that was possible but I was talked out of it because of my age. Rona had been through a few natural deliveries and it just took a quick call from her to calm me down when it came to my options.
Meanwhile, my mum was over the moon! She sent little smocked dresses like the ones she made for me as a little girl, plus crib blankies and other baby goodies from Australia. Her advice to me was to get exercise, stay calm and rub olive oil on my stomach daily to avoid stretch marks. Mum already had plans to come visit after I had the baby to help out.
Matt and I also talked about the future and where we would raise the baby. We thought that Australia might be a better place to raise a family because the air is so clean, the food is pure, and there would be fewer security issues. At the time, I thought we would quickly have a second child. ‘A boy and a girl,’ we vowed.
This was also an important time of re-evaluation for me. My music was still going well, but I was really focused on what was important in my life and wouldn’t allow my career to control my personal happiness.
Every night, I would sleep with my hands on my stomach and feel the baby kick.
This was what mattered.
Just before Christmas in 1985, I felt several sharp, stabbing pains racing through my mid-section. It was much too early for the baby, who was due in February, so Matt raced me in to see my OB-GYN. It was one of those heart-stopping moments where you’re holding your breath for the news. My doctor informed me that it was possible that I could be having late-term miscarriage.
In that moment, I didn’t panic.
Miscarriage? I wouldn’t hear of it.
‘What can we do?’ I asked. The answer was that I would be put on complete bed rest now, which meant a few steps around the house a day and showering, but that was it for me for the next eight to ten weeks. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be that long until I gave birth.
That wasn’t meant to be.
A few weeks after the New Year in 1986, I was taking a shower and, while soaping up, my waters broke. It was a beautiful sunny day and I remember washing off and then going downstairs to calmly tell Matt that he was about to become a father. He held it together pretty well, although I know he was crazy nervo
us on our drive from Malibu to Cedars-Sinai Hospital.
It was still too soon for the baby to come into the world.
But someone didn’t want to wait any longer.
I still wanted to have a natural birth, but I wasn’t dilating. I was in labour for seventeen hours. It was such slow progress that the doctors were forced to give me a drug called Pitocin, a synthetic form of a hormone that your body processes naturally during labour. It sped up the contractions, and also helped me to relax because seventeen hours was a long time for both me and the baby to be in this kind of stress.
As labour progressed, I was exhausted, cranky as hell (every mother knows exactly what I mean), and facing a dreaded epidural, while Matt was completely hyper and filming away with a video camera. By this time, I wasn’t shy. If you told me I’d be lying there with my legs wide open, lights on me, a spotlight on my crotch and someone with a video camera shooting my every move . . . Well, by then, nothing embarrasses you anymore. The pain wipes away the shyness.
As we were about to hit hour eighteen, I accepted the offer of an epidural because the pain was pretty intense. I went numb immediately, and that part was heaven.
I had heard horror stories about epidurals and I didn’t want one. In fact, it terrified me more than childbirth. It would turn out that my fears were warranted in this case because the needle hit my spinal cord.
Funny how life works.
I believe sometimes fear is an invitation. If you spend a lot of energy fearing something, no matter how hard you try to avoid it there are times when you end up having to deal with it – at least that’s been true in my life.
I know this is going to sound crazy, but at the last minute, after seventeen hours of pushing, I had one simple request.
‘Matt, can you find my lipstick?’ I asked.
‘What?’ he said in an amazed voice.
I had to put on my favourite coral lipstick because I wanted the baby to see me looking nice when she came out! It’s amazing the things that become important in times of extreme chaos.
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