My early TV career

I’ve been on TV, TWICE – and not just CCTV, actual TV, filmed by people.

  1990-ish – The Clothes Show. Massive fashion icon.

I was a student in London when my family invited me to The Royal Show, which was not (I thought) as posh as it sounded – it was actually an agricultural show starring big orange bulls and freshly-washed sheep, with a token royal waft-through at the opening. I asked what to wear and my mother said, well, you’re going to look at animals… So I dressed as you would to tickle a sheep or scratch a pig: black t-shirt and jeans. My OH at the time did the same, with Nirvana t- and black leather jacket. There may have been studs, boots, piercings, and some serious hair and beard. So up we rocked and we befriended a few cows and were licked by calves, and it was all very cute. My parents stiffened when they saw us but I was a dopey kid so I didn’t really register. Only when we got home did we receive the alarmingly shrill lecture about studs and skulls and Senior Management and Royal People. OK. So anyway, we managed to placate her with a cup of tea and the offer to watch The Clothes Show (TV fashion thing) and lo! We were on it, as the most studded people at The Royal Show! So proud. SO proud. (She went rigid, and didn’t forgive us for months.)

1996-ish. Documentary.  Massive social icon.

This once was a bit harsh, really. I was driving home from work and a few mates were meeting up in a Richmond pub, so I dropped in to say hi but, because I was driving, I ordered diet coke. While we were chatting, a guy came by and asked if we’d mind him taking our photo or filming, and I didn’t care, so I said sure, and ignored him ever after. Turns out he was filming a programme on “women who drink too much”. My friend was furious, which was fun to watch, while I basked in my new-found stardom and planned a lucrative career in wordless, boozy political commentary. Thinking about it, in the name of authenticity, he should have bought us a vodka and taxi fare home. Next time.

If I had my time again, I’d have recorded these, but people, it was before broadband existed. Imagine!

So there we go, my 3 minutes of fame

(I still have 12 minutes left; call my agent).

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