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Some girls hang their heads in shame, but I’m proud that, at the age of 14, I was convinced Duran Duran’s John Taylor would one day be my husband. It’s true, I used to sign yearbook farewells “TLA, Elisa Nader-Taylor,” so hyphenated, so hip, so ’83. Taylor was my ideal. Not many men could pair a Raiders of the Lost Ark fedora with white jazz shoes and still be hot. When I saw Duran Duran live on the Seven and the Ragged Tiger tour, I almost fainted when I realized I was breathing the same air as John Taylor. I dyed my shit-brown hair burgundy, inspired by his bleached-banged ’do, I listened to funky disco because of his love for Chic, and I watched James Bond movies because of his fantasy to screw more than 12 chicks in two hours. Yes, I was damn proud to be a Duranie, and gosh darn it, I still am. Taylor, Sex Pistol Steve Jones, and ex–Guns N’ Rosers Matt Sorum and Duff McKagan rock out as Neurotic Outsiders. With Fluffy at 9 p.m. at the Bayou, 3135 K St. NW. $15. (202) 333-2897. (Elisa Nader)