Brief encounters…

minor brushes with celebrities

Kenneth Williams

It would have been Kenneth Williams’s 100^th birthday last week – to mark the occasion, Radio 4 Extra* devoted an entire day to him, which we caught bits of. I had never heard him read Diary of a Madman, which really showcased the acting ability that his camp, Carry On persona obscured.

I used to see Kenneth quite often when I worked in Great Titchfield Street in the early 80s. He was always arm in arm with his mother and they seemed happy enough in their own little bubble. One day I caught his eye and gave what I hoped was a, ‘I’m gay, too, I know and like you and your work’ smile and was met with a look that, in the words of restaurant critic Grace Dent, caused a nearby section of the Thames to freeze over.

Lenny Henry

I got a similar look from Lenny Henry years later. He was walking toward me, wearing a lovely coat and again, I gave him my, ‘oh, it’s you, love you!’ look and was greeted with a grimace that screamed, ‘Don’t you fucking dare talk to me!’.

Jimmy Sommerville

Also during my Great Titchfield Street years I bumped into Jimmy Sommerville near where I was working. I had such a massive crush on him at the time that I was reduced to a giggling moron and couldn’t speak, despite being a huge Bronski Beat fan.

Leigh Bowery

I used to see Leigh Bowery out and about at clubs a lot, a little later in the 80s. I remember him giving me a flyer for “A club I’m starting, do try and come, it will be great fun!” We were on the dance floor at Asylum at Heaven. I had hair extensions which I wore tied up so I looked like a giant skinny pineapple. The invite was a piece of yellow card with pics torn out of porno mags stuck on and was for Taboo. I wish I’d kept it.

I saw Leigh at clubs on and off for years and he was always really friendly, greeting us with ‘Oooh, hello!’ in his gentle Australian twang. The last time I saw him was at a mostly-straight club Barcelona. He was wearing a bodystocking and an eye mask made, I think, out of safety pins. The uptight Catalans, in their Massimo Dutti finest, thought an alien had landed among them.

I used to see Leigh B at The Mix at The Scala when he rocked this look

Fenella Fielding

I once helped Fenella Fielding with her shopping at a self-service till in Covent Garden Tesco. ‘Darling, you’ve saved my life! I loathe these bloody things!’ She looked pleasingly glam in a huge wig, false eyelashes and a lot of eyeliner.

Roberta Flack

On a press trip to Jamaica I was introduced to the then Prime Minister, who was lovely and said she totally loved British magazines. I then briefly met Roberta Flack, who was suitably regal. We were then treated to a private concert by Ms F. Shortly after she took to the stage a huge storm arrived. Undeterred, she played on, until spying that the canopy above her was getting increasingly full of water and might possibly spill all over her at any moment. Without missing a beat, Roberta jabbed her finger in the direction of the PM and then jabbed upwards with a look that said, ‘That water comes anywhere near me and there will be hell to pay,’ causing the dignitary to jump out of her seat and get it sorted.

Tom Rasmussen

Tom Rasmussen walked past me on Old Compton Street the other day, after I’d been to a boozy lunch. We smiled at each other. ‘I love your new album!’ I shouted. He seemed very pleased.

*The Radio 4 Extra Jingle is one of my pet hates. The way a woman breathily says ‘extra’ after someone else says ‘Radio 4’. I also hate the way the voice of the automated checkout at Sainsbury’s says, ‘Goodbye!’. She sounds like she really wants to say, ‘fuck you and your meal deal!’