JFK Jr. was hot. Way hotter than you ever dreamed. We both grew up in NYC so over the years I saw him around town. Back when Belle and I were shoplifting, we were casing the Thierry Mugler boutique one day and he strolled in. Poor Belle almost died. But it was years later, while rollerblading near the bandshell in Central Park, that he and I literally crashed into each other. I knew him of course but this time, he knew me, too. My first Revlon billboard had just gone up in Times Square and my face was three stories tall. He and I hooked up, locked ourselves inside his loft for four days and kee-kee’d over how insane it’s gonna get when the world finds out. But then duty called. He took off for China and I had several gigs in Rome. Our thing simply fizzled out. Just one regret, though. I really wanted to meet Jackie.