Her Name is Star Stowe and if she were from Barstow, we'd write a limerick about her, but she's not—she's from Little Rock, Arkansas, and now lives in Los Angeles. Star wasn't the moniker she was given at birth, either—the name was given to her several years ago, when the somewhat precocious Miss Stowe, then a minor, tried to finagle her way into a bar. The doorman wouldn't let her in, which prompted the fellow she was with to quote the title of a song by The Rolling Stones: "Star, Star," he said, "can't get in the door." Thereafter, people started to call her Star and she didn't object. "Some people think it's egotistical to call myself Star," she says, "but it's not meant in the Hollywood sense at all." It's meant, and we kid you not, in the celestial sense. Star happens to be fascinated by stars—you know, those twinkly little objects that come out at night. In her spare time, she hangs out at planetaria and studies pictures of nebulae and comets, and, in celebration of her interest in things celestial, she even had an electric-blue star tattooed on ... well ... a private part of her anatomy. Another star that interests her is rock star Gene Simmons, bass-guitar player for the group Kiss. They met some years ago in Las Vegas; specifically, at the elevator banks of the Hotel Sahara, where Gene and his group were playing at the time. She didn't recognize him with his make-up off (onstage the group is heavily and rather bizarrely made up), but his laidback manner attracted her and she's been hanging around with the band ever since. "Once in L.A.," she recalls, "while Gene was onstage, I flashed him—I just opened my jacket for a split second and I wasn't wearing anything underneath. Sometimes, I just love to be naughty."
