I have always been delusional about my looks. I look in the mirror and think: OK, you’re 6ft 2in and 235lb, and you’re not the worst or the best-looking guy in the world, but you can walk into any room and steal anybody’s wife or girlfriend. Confidence is enormously appealing and very disarming. “Hello,” I say, looking into a woman’s eyes, “I find you devastatingly attractive.”
My closet has lots of leather pants, snakeskin boots, the usual sort of thing. I have more conservative outfits for when I am doing business on Wall Street, when I have to push down my bouffy hair a little. I use lots of hairspray, making my hair rock hard. I started to go grey in my 20s and have coloured it ever since. I have destroyed the follicles, I’m sure, but at least it’s still all there.
Getting ready to be on stage with Kiss takes two hours. There’s a knack to doing the face – first I paint it white using Stein’s Clown White, then I take a pencil and draw the bat outline, freehand. After erasing the white within the bat design, I fill it with Stein’s Clown Black.
It takes me about 30 minutes to get it all off afterwards: you have to steam the face with really hot water, so the pores open up. I use Pond’s cream cleanser.
When it comes to confidence on a night out, if it doesn’t come naturally, bluff. Say there are two women at a party. One is much more attractive, but the so-so looking one has a twinkle in her eye. That’s the one he’s going to go for. But ladies, make it a little easier for the guy if you’re interested. That first hello is enormously welcoming.