If adolescence had briefly tarnished his image with a layer of puppy fat, by the time he wanted to become a rock star his looks were second to none. He had height, a good physique, and the right profile. If you look at the first publicity pictures of the Doors, Morrison looks ungainly and unremarkable in his Haight-Ashbury rags and Carnaby Street chic; but undress him with your eyes and you see a surf-born Adonis. He had the raw material – all he had to do was create a uniform that matched the group’s dark urban soundtrack. He had created his own psychic cocktail, his own mythology (a mish-mash of Nietzsche, French theatre, Greek symbolism, contemporary psychology and silly hippie rhetoric). Now his outward appearance needed the same juxtaposition of forces. Like Elvis, he created his look from a variety of sources, clothes which were fundamental to the creation of the Lizard King’s image. To celebrate ‘Light My Fire’ reaching number one in the charts, Morrison went out and bought his most iconic piece of clothing, a custom-made black leather suit.
