Lita Ford Divorce Gets Creepier Somehow
The 1994 marriage of hair metal queens Lita Ford and Jim Gillette was a bit queasy from the start, and only got weirder: The couple married reportedly after a two-week acquaintance, they loved to overshare of their gross sex life, and they lived off on some weird island in Europe. For his part, Gillette transformed into a ginormous dude with intense tattoos to counteract his image as the huuuge-haired and always shrieking singer of wack-ass Nitro. Ford’s vibe was nearly as barf, but for a handful of charming moments amid a discography of desperately commercial heavy rock.
Anyway, their divorce has been even grosser. She states that it was her pursuit of a Osbournes-style reality show that overwhelmed the levees of their union to cause its end. Ford’s narrative is of being a prisoner and victim, starting right around the time of the renaissance for her old band The Runaways. (Hence the two functions of her 2013 album title, Like A Runaway.) Gillette, for his part, has kept quiet.
Until Sunday, when Gillette’s side of the story emerged in its only appropriate setting: Metal Sludge. Gillette refutes Ford’s claims categorically but vaguely, and ostensibly in the interest of discretion and protection for his kids. Which makes sense, so why did he send along a trio of photos of their boys looking conspicuously bushy-tailed and beaming? So fucking weird. Gillette:
First of all and for the record, I have sole legal and physical custody of our sons. I think that should tell you just about all you need to know since it’s nearly impossible for a father to get that kind of result in a highly regarded US court. Unfortunately, it goes much further than that. As heartbreaking and unbelievable as this might sound, Lita Ford is not even allowed to see our sons by way of an agreed upon court order. This order was signed after nearly two years of litigation – during which time the courts only allowed her supervised visitation.
We won’t make light of domestic strife and/or abuse here, but we hereby accuse Gillette of beating the shit out of the English language. Of course there’s more:
Not many people know about this as up until now I’ve kept my mouth shut. Our sons have urged me for years to tell the world our side of the story but this is all I’m prepared to share at this point in time. I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone that’s been so kind and supportive of the boys and me.
Oh he’s good! Be it getting huge as a chemical-peeled silverback, shrieking like he’s got a fishing lure caught in his asshole, or menacing his sons’ crazy mom, Gillette aims for excellence. Don’t bother taking sides in this sad scene. Well, not any more than you’d bet on a pair of street hags bite-fighting over meth.