Have we all been "Brand"ed?

"Ouch!"

Before you jump to conclusions I haven’t got a burnt image on my bottom like a cow’s hide in the Wild West or succumbed to the effects of Russell like many a female starlet, but I’m marvelling at the pull of big market brands on us all.

I heard yesterday that the town of Totnes in Devon had successfully fought off an application from Costa Coffee to set up a branch in their high street.  “In yer face big soulless corporation!”  They wanted to preserve the independent businesses culture found in the town and, for once, the corporation listened and retracted the bid.  It must have been a hard fight for they succeeded where so many have failed; I am sure Tesco wouldn’t have been so humble, they seem happy to jump into the empty grave of a pub with tactless haste.

I like to think that I am all for local businesses and independent traders; I recently found a stunning local cafe in Twickenham called LuLu'z (@LuluzTwickenham) and will thwart bigger chains on the high street for their comfortable sofas and epic cake selection.  But I have to hold my hands up and say that this has not always been the case and I can’t promise I will never be seen holding a Starbucks Chocolate Chunk Shortbread again, (to the detriment of local business and my hips.)  For no matter how much tax certain companies get out of paying, a trip to a coffee chain is like going home for your Mum’s roast; it is familiar, comforting and you know what you’re going to get.

We have become creatures of habit blinded by brands and scared to go out of our comfort zone.  I have previously joked that the touring cast of Avenue Q should have been given shares in Marks & Spencer’s Food Hall but the same can be said for any touring actor; despite our meagre wages we rely on Fuller for Longer microwave meals and ready to eat prawns.  We all gravitate like Lemmings to the Starbucks or Costa in any town and are quick to label certain towns as “dumps” if they have yet to open a recognisable coffee house, “Oh how I miss London,” we lament.  As much as I spent hours trying to explore each town and find spots of local interest, I would collapse in a recognisable chair full of crumbs in a franchise brand and drink green tea because it was familiar. 



When you are working away anything that is recognisable becomes a comfort and lessens the miles between you and home.  I shamefully remember sitting in a Starbucks in every German town I visited on the Mamma Mia! tour instead of sampling the local cafe culture, but perhaps the fact that I was fake-tanned like a tangerine in deepest winter is the more shameful part of that memory. 

 

Or as they say in Germany "Ich liebe es!"

Another tangerine dancer friend was worse; he would screech “The Golden Arches!” in his Glaswegian drawl as our coach drove through a new town, because seeing a MacDonald’s meant he could eat for the next 14 days.  Was he a heathen sucked in by corporation brands or just homesick and unable to swallow any more Kartofflen and sauerkraut?

 

Like it or not, we have all succumbed to branding and I think it would be an interesting experiment to see if we could last a week without having any brands in our life at all.  I am not sure if I could – my friends would certainly miss the fake name game that is the current trend when visiting a Starbucks.  Could we be as angelic as the inhabitants of Totnes and really fight for local culture instead of just chat about our gripes over a Costa cappuccino?  Or are we allowed to have this modern human weakness for soulless but safe beverages that always taste the same from Tyneside to Truro?

But what about poor Martin from Totnes?  He contacted a radio programme discussing the fight against Costa and said, “I would have quite liked to have a Costa here, I like their coffee!”  Spare a thought for that lemming who will have to get on a bus to Newton Abbott for his caramel latte.

Read all about it! - What goes on tour stays on tour

Oh dear Gareth!  It must be a slow news day, despite more pressing headlines such as the murder charges against Mark Bridger the celeb gossip section exploded with another alleged affair between the married Gareth Gates and an on-stage co-star.

I say “another” because he was caught out in his last touring musical, Les Miserables, and now his wife seemingly has to endure more headlines about his alleged musical theatre infidelities.  Post Levenson, we are all aware of the underhand tactics certain parts of the press will take to find (or create) a scoop and having personally witnessed such vile antics I am not quick to believe anything I read. Despite the likelihood that these rumours and photos are creating something out of nothing, it got me thinking about my experiences of the musical theatre tour bubble and the effect it can have on your “normal” life.

Being on tour as an actor is not unlike a 12 month work conference at an out-of-town Holiday Inn or the Christmas party in the office world; all routine situations, morals and sense become skewed.  Behaviour or feelings that you wouldn’t even register in your normal life become available and accepted in what can only be described as a bubble.  It is only you and your cast mates with the routine of daily gym visits, trips to the local Nandos and in-jokes.  The bubble grows over a contract and suddenly bursts on the last performance and you happily return to your normal life, as I hope Mr Gates can do if it is intact.

Bubbles are beautiful but they always burst

Over my 11 years as a professional actress I have played all the roles in this set-up.  I have been the partner left at home trying to understand the closeness between virtual strangers with jealous inclinations threatening a relationship and more recently, I have been the partner away working.  It is probably because I have learnt from what I have witnessed or experienced in the past that I did everything in my power to keep my relationship my priority this time.  Not wanting my other half to know what it feels like to wait by a phone when the curtain has gone down and to know that I would always choose coming home over Saturday night bevvies.  The one thing that flummoxed me in today’s article was the fact that the Gates’ show was playing Wimbledon and he was seen heading to the digs of his co-star instead of travelling the few miles home to West London.  If they were in a far flung city it is easier to comprehend socialising after a show but to me when you are performing in a venue near home it is a no-brainer; surely you rush back to your wife and child?

I have also seen the damage resulting from a young cast member basking in the light of the affections of a leading man.  It is more intoxicating than Doctor Footlights himself, the feeling of being chosen, special and by their side.  You start to live your on-stage romance for real with all the glamour and enticing angst that it entails and once you add a hint of celebrity to the mix then it becomes a lethal cocktail.

What is it that makes actors fall for each other?  Why should kissing someone on-stage every night suddenly become an off-stage activity lit only by the flashing call from your spouse on a mobile phone?  You spend 3 years at drama school learning “how to act,” so why are some people unable to keep their emotions separate from the acting?  Just because your character falls in love with your co-star doesn’t mean you, the actor, also has to; kissing someone for a living shouldn’t distort reality.  Most actors acknowledge it is actually quite a disconcerting and embarrassing thing to do, especially TV actors who are more worried about hitting marks and the technicalities of such scenes.

It is possible to have a dramatic kiss without the drama

And yet it is such a common story; two leading actors falling in love.  Obviously sometimes in-cast relationships can work but both parties being previously unattached always helps; certain people still hate Angelina for ‘stealing’ Brad from Jennifer but we celebrate the union of Greg Wise and Emma Thompson because as far as we know, no-one’s feelings were hurt.  I spent a whole pantomime season spouting my wisdom about touring bubbles to my leading man turn partner and have thankfully been proved wrong, plus the fact that we have been married on stage over 100 times also lets him off the hook for a bit!

But when the two characters are not totally single it can be awful, even for the rest of the people in the tour bubble.  You have to see the visiting spouse whilst knowing it is not your place to reveal the certain events you were privy to in a recent Wetherspoons, everybody is put in an awkward position. 

For the majority of “jobbing actors” such mistakes are made out of the media glare but that is sadly not the case for somebody with a celebrity status.  The theatre world is a small one; everybody quickly learns of your business without the aid of The Daily Mail and sadly the characters in both the latest scandal and the Les Miserables rumours surrounding Gates are known either by me or by many of my colleagues.  Some may be outraged and protective over the allegations others may be nodding knowingly, either way it leaves a horrid taste in your mouth.

Whether the speculation is true or not, it can’t have been nice reading for Mrs Gates or a proud moment for the actresses’ parents.  The press seems to forget that real life relationships are not as easily resolved as the ones we portray on stage. 

See for yourself;

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2214005/Gareth-Gates-gets-close-star-number-2.html

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single actress in possession of her audition folder must be in want of a treat!

I am heartily disappointed in Starbucks.  Not as part of an anti-commercialism vendetta, I love to support a local business but I don’t pretend you won’t see me in a Nero or Costa.  The reason for my annoyance with Starbucks and Co is that they, like many other eateries, have now put the calorie content on the signs next to their treats.

hmmmm....well done me!

So I now know that my favourite Chocolate Chunk Shortbread is a calorific 497 calories with a heart-clogging 18g of fat – it is only the size of my hand and yet it constitutes a whole meal and a half with enough fat to insulate a small bear through winter.  I wish I didn’t know the full horrors of the shortbread because that biscuit was my audition treat and now I have to think twice before I part with my £1.75.

Audition treat, I hear you ask? 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single actress in possession of her audition folder must be in want of a treat. 

A post-audition treat to be precise; I’m sorry Ms Austen for bastardising your wonderful words but I’m sure even you would crave some sugary satisfaction after a particularly hard meeting with an editor!

For some strange reason I feel obligated to reward myself after an audition as if the two minutes of singing to strangers is enough cardio to warrant it!  I like to think that it's a reward for the whole process – from the phone call from your agent, to the frantic hunt for sheet music, maybe a trip to Chappells to buy a £25 compilation just to use one song, the early rising for vocal warm ups in the shower, the anxiety that lives with you all day until the 4.45pm call time to the final two minutes of screeching inappropriately to a panel who are mentally already on their trains home.  Phew!  You see a reward is clearly needed.

I am not the only one on this reward scheme; so many female friends do similar things.  Starbucks is a habitual recurrence in their admissions perhaps because there literally is one of every corner especially near London rehearsal rooms.  One drama school colleague goes for the cinnamon swirl, another prefers a chocolate muffin.  A dear friend of mine went to an open audition for The Lord of The Rings musical and after queueing since dawn and managing to sing 16 bars of Meadowlark in a different key to the one played by the accompanist she ended up in Haagen Daz in Leicester Square.  Whilst weeping to her Mum down the phone she nursed an ice-cream sundae, her reward for getting through such a trauma until one of those pesky Leicester Square pick-pockets, a pigeon, came and swiped it.  Obviously the weeping became wailing and a bad day became worse, the pigeon had denied her the one good thing about her day!

These Ballet-Boyz at an open audition don't look the types for beer or cakes!
from guardian.co.uk

This post was prompted by a conversation whilst rehearsing The Last Five Years that opens tonight.  My character Cathy has a song called “Climbing Uphill” where we see her audition disasters recounted over dinner with her Dad.  I suggested that she may have some kind of junk food because after a bad audition ALL actresses eat rubbish; this observation was met with confusion by the others!  But they trusted me (probably because of my 11 years worth of experience of bad auditions and chubby thighs!) and we now have Cathy munching a McDonalds whilst singing about going to the gym.  This does seem to be a predominantly female reward scheme, when I have mentioned this to other male theatre friends they look at me incredulously.  “No,” they reply with confusion, “well, I suppose I do go and have a pint.” Ah ha! We all do it but in the “Men are from Mars, Woman are from Venus” way!

This behaviour may worry nutritionists and is probably classified as emotional comfort-eating.  There are countless articles and books about how to stop emotional eating and the dangers to your health and well-being.  I read a scary article on this subject titled “You’re not a dog, so don’t act like one.”  This kind of reward eating is like drooling for a bone but it also harks back to childhood routines (what kind of psychotherapy doesn’t?!) where we were given treats if we were quiet/tidied our room/did well at school.  So perhaps the answer isn’t switching my Starbucks for fruit or nuts but in fact re-training my brain to think I actually don’t require a reward for doing my job!

I personally have to curb this kind of behaviour not only because my metabolism is now over 30 years old and therefore on shut down, but mainly because what if I suddenly have 5 auditions in one week? 

The anxiety + 2485 Starbucks calories = one week nearer to being air-lifted out of my house by crane on one of those daytime programmes. 

Actually, who am I kidding, what actor or actress has 5 auditions a week nowadays?  Sadly in today’s climate we are more likely to get 5 every 6 months so with my brain re-training and this lull in auditions I may finally be able to kick the habit.

So as I go into ‘tr-eating’ rehab the only person who will suffer is Mr Starbucks; without us emotional eating actors you’ll only have the yummy mummy’s for your profit margins and they’re always on diets!

 

In case you want to read that scary article, here it is http://www.limitless365.com/2012/08/27/youre-not-a-dog-so-why-act-like-one-food-as-a-reward/

Speech Making - It's Testing 1,2,3 -

I’ve been asked to make a speech at my old drama school for the newly enrolled students and I am terrified.  My immediate reaction is what do I have to say to 75 slightly pissed students at the end of Fresher’s week?

I am hardly an enticing alumni option; they could have had Michael Ball, Brenda Blethyn or even Beppe from Eastenders. Young people these days aren’t impressed by normalcy, they want to hear words of wisdom from someone ‘off the telly’ or at least from the final 10 of a TV talent search, not some West End understudy who they’ll all probably meet in an audition dance call in 2015 for “High School Musical 7 – the Adult Ed Years.” 

I haven’t made a speech since I entered a debating competition for my Year 9 English class.  I discussed the merits of co-ed education against single sex schools reading my cue cards and shaking like a leaf.  I, like many actors, would rather perform to 1,000 people in a darkened auditorium than for 5 in my lounge.  There is something safe about hiding behind a character, a costume and somebody else’s words.  I feel vulnerable and metaphorically naked having to stand and orate alone, thank god I’ll never have to make a best man’s speech.

I could lie on the psychologists couch and discuss why actors are so insecure and more comfortable as characters than in their own skin but that would make you all scroll down to the end!  Bloody actors trying to understand themselves again!  It’s blindingly obvious that we crave the applause as some kind of validation for our life choice and have a peculiar childhood bond with the dressing-up box.

Freudian problems aside, I am rubbish at making speeches.  I talk at 100mph, gabbling like a toddler on amphetamines, I physically shake and I will probably be unable to see over whatever lectern or stand they give me, thus losing any gravitas or authority.  Should I open with a joke about an actress and a bishop to endear myself or should I give a parental lecture about the effects of alcohol and promiscuous sex?  I could go for the tough love approach and start with that classic line “99% of actors are out of work at one time,” which will have them reaching for razor blades or maybe “if you are prepared to sell your soul, morals and dignity you could be Jesus/Maria/Joseph.” 

All together now...."I'm sorry, I'm sorry.."

I could use the old trick and imagine my audience all naked but I feel like that’s just a bit pervy or I could watch endless footage of Martin Luther King or Hitler for tips on capturing a crowd.  I could take some tips from politicians when speech-making; use staccato arm gestures and big pauses between points.  Or perhaps I could auto-tune my voice and speak-sing it to a beat box track a la Clegg?

No, I want people to take me seriously. 

Looks like I will have to rely on being myself.  These students may have a greater photo opportunity with Michael Ball or Beppe for their Facebook page but I hope I can impart a bit of realism.  I believe that the majority of these students will work as actors but few will reach the dizzy heights of stardom so to hear how I survive as a jobbing actress might be of some value. 

So I just need to take a deep breath and natter away like I would to you guys, if not, I’ll down a bottle of plonk and then there’ll be 76 pissed actors in the room!

Me and Jason Robert Brown - The Last Five Years

Jason Robert Brown - composer and
and writer of The Last Five Years

I have never felt good enough for Jason Robert Brown, well his material anyway!  Perfect casting you may think for the insecure, struggling actress, Cathy, in The Last Five Years whose personal demons contribute to the downfall of her marriage to Jamie, as shown in Guildford Fringe’s production in October. 

As an actress you spend years learning your niche; I know I suit a Rogers and Hammerstein style musical and can get away wearing rags on a barricade whilst lyrically dying in the French revolution but playing a modern 20-something actress in a failing relationship?  Well that sounds far too close to home and for some bizarre reason I feel much more comfortable playing a Yellow Bad Idea Bear in Avenue Q.  See, we actresses are complex and downright daft sometimes!   The challenge of ‘The Last Five Years’ (L5Y) is to attempt complex music, emotions and have enough chutzpah about you to hold a stage; I always felt those roles were best left to better known performers like Julie Atherton or Hannah Waddingham, not little jobbing actresses like me.  But after conquering ‘Avenue Q’s Kate Monster, a role synonymous with Atherton in the UK, I thought it was about time I got a bit of self-belief!

Putting my personal insecurities aside, Jason Robert Brown does write challenging music for both performer and musician.  Audition pianists shoot eye daggers at you if you dare to bring any of his songs to sing and after The Guildford Fringe’s first sing through last week of L5Y I nearly requested oxygen and a stretcher to take me home after a knackering rendition of “Summer in Ohio!”



performed by The Guildford Fringe Company October 2nd - 6th 2012

Jason Robert Brown exploded into my consciousness when I was a drama student in the distant early naughties.  Like any student, drama students lap up new material, wanting to be at the cutting edge of knowledge in their beloved subject.  I had a dear friend and roommate, Rochelle, who hailed from the glamorous New York City and who, along with tales of serving Al Pachino as a waitress and buying bras with Bernadette Peters, introduced me to new musical theatre composers including Jason Robert Brown.  She enthused about his work and slowly songs from ‘Parade’ and ‘Songs for a New World’ crept into to our presentation classes, (singing a different song each week for critique, it was terrifying!)

We shunned Rogers and Hammerstein and Jerry Herman for ‘Taylor the Latte Boy’ and ‘John and Jen’ because we wanted to put our own stamp on something, not be the 3,603^rd student to sing ‘Summertime.’  Little did we know that every other student across the country was doing the same thing, but then isn’t that is nearly always the case? Anything new is very quickly picked up and becomes a trend; just look at 50 Shades of Grey, although I won’t compare the writing talents of Jason Robert Brown to that inane idea of prose and fortunate result of an incredible but mis-placed marketing campaign.

Someone in Guildford said to me that there is ‘a type of person’ who would appreciate L5Y, and who would that be - that specific and rare breed of human who has been involved in a relationship with another person?  Because that is everyone at some stage of their lives.  I want to banish all these beliefs that certain musicals are just for ‘elite’ musical fans or a certain type of audience. 

photo by Anthony Illott

I will be so bold as to say that there will not be a person in our audience who hasn’t felt or said at least one of the lyrics that Nick Wyschna and I will attempt to convey in L5Y.   That is why Jason Robert Brown is so clever; he has made a universal topic specific to this one couple, because when ‘it’ happens to you, you do feel as if you are the only person in the world to feel such joy or pain.  So how can this musical be just for the musical-loving elite?  Yes, we all have different musical tastes; some preferring a well-known ballad to the intricate melodies of Sondheim that can be hard to follow, but listen to the lyrics of any song to connect to it. 

When plays and musicals tackle the fundamental elements of being a human they can appeal to us all, whether you are a musical snob or a fan of Dirty Dancing, because human nature doesn’t change.  The new advert for John Lewis has that exact sentiment “the things that really matter do not change” and that is one of the main reasons why Shakespeare’s plays persevere because we will all, forever, be plagued with jealousy, love, friendship, family differences and the need to belong.  I am not suggesting that Jason Robert Brown is the Shakespeare of musicals but he writes characters and stories that we can all relate to and that is why L5Y affected me so much at 20 and affects me more so at 31.  I couldn’t relate to “I’m Still Hurting” at 20 (although I thought I could) but a few relationships down the pan 11 years later and who needs Stanislavski!

I hope we do see lots of drama students in the audience eager to see this revered piece but also see the average theatre go-er who is eager, as always, to see the L5Y “hold as ‘twere  the mirror up to nature....”...that Shakespeare knew his stuff!

see our rehearsal vid - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqLWizTWjQM&sns=fb

The Good Ol' Days - thinking like my Grandad on his birthday

I saw this picture on Facebook this week and yelled “Yes” this is exactly what my Grandad and I sit and chat about.  As a music lover and being involved with bands at a young age, my Grandad has firm ideas on what makes a good song; “You have to be to come away humming the tune” he says, sadly does not apply to all of the musicals he has sat through because of me.

Yes, you might get the tune of “Here’s my number so call me maybe” on a loop in your head like some kind of Japanese torture but compare the lyrics with ‘old standards’ as this picture does, and it makes me weep.  If you ever meet my granddad, ask him about his opinion on modern song lyrics, his impression is hilarious.  “I walk down the street.... go up the path....... and ring the bell” in a wonderful monotonous drone, “it means nothing” he sighs before chatting about Matt Monro or Sinatra.

I have often thought that I was born in the wrong era because I agree with my Grandad entirely.  I choose lindy hop over hip hop and I couldn’t name you any song in the charts now since I stopped listening to the Top 40 on a Sunday night!  As my last post proved I am more High Society than We Will Rock You and as for my desire to be in Downton Abbey.....don’t get me started! (9pm this Sunday people, hooray!!!)

Change has always unnerved me.  I remember watching Alan Ayckbourn’s play Comic Potential where “actoids” had replaced actors in television soaps and I was distraught that the profession I dreamt of entering may succumb to robots before I got a chance to go to drama school!  It genuinely worried me!  Although we have yet to see actoids, you could argue that a few robotic performances have slipped into theatre and TV but that’s a whole different rant!

The fact that you can control the thermostat of your home via your mobile phone and effectively buy everything you need online and never see a shop again doesn’t make me applaud modern science, it scares me!  I like shopping in shops, talking to people and don’t want robots choosing my clothes for me in my wardrobe! Although if they want to clean my bathroom......?

If you think about how far the world has developed in just the last 150 years and the rate at which technology and medicine has advanced it can make me shudder to think about what our lives will be like by 2050.  Maybe I won’t be an arthritic 69 year old?  Maybe Death Becomes Her could come true and I’ll look exactly the same, although with a few improvements! 

So why do I hanker for a simpler time?  Well history seems glamorous to me.  Hollywood stars had an air of mystery that made them appear to be grander beings, you didn’t see pictures of Lauren Bacall with her cellulite circled in the newspapers and despite the publicity surrounding Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton their relationship certainly had more grace and glamour than the on/off drama that was Jordan and Peter Andre.  

Libraries are bursting with compilations of letters by Jane Austen, Oscar Wilde and diaries of Samuel Pepys and Joe Orton but what will my children have to look forward to, an e-book of Marian Keyes’ tweets or Stephen Fry’s blogs?  We still have great wordsmiths and writers but I pray that their words will be recorded correctly and wholly instead of in the style of many 16 year old English GCSE exam papers “Midsummer Night’s Dream was gr8 and Bottom made me laugh lol!”  

Without computers or telephones people used to have a desire and need to communicate effectively.  I read some newspaper articles about the sinking of Titanic where every single part of the launch was described in such detail; pages and pages describing the colours, weather and atmosphere.  They did this because there were few photographs or videos to show on the TV and this was the only way for people to experience the news.  It was so well-crafted and beautiful to read but you could argue time-consuming compared to watching a clip on YouTube.  Which would you prefer?

Sinatra sang “Fools rush in, where angels fear to tread,” whereas 2 Live Crew shouts “Face down, A*s Up, That’s the way we like to f*%k!”.........I know.  You should have seen my face the first time I heard that in an Avenue Q physical warm-up.  Granny Dani was not impressed.

Don’t imagine I choose to live a simpler life without TV or a microwave ‘a la Felicity Kendal in The Good Life’ as some kind of moral stand; I indulge in all of the luxuries that the 21^st century can offer.  Despite resisting the iPhone for years with diatribes about losing social skills you now find me checking Twitter as soon as I open my eyes and shamelessly using my Google map as a walk along unknown streets.  You do have to move with the times or you get left behind but it doesn’t mean I have to like it all.

I will take advantage of our incredible modern medicines and Skype loved ones far away but I shall also listen to classical music whilst reading historical fiction, wear tea-dresses, use grammar in my texts and write letters to people.  And most importantly, I will continue to wish that my boyfriend will walk on the outside of the pavement to prevent the horses and cart splashing mud on me, chivalry isn’t dead yet, my Grandad taught me that!

Auditioning - Trying to find my inner Zig-a-Zig-Ah!

I have never been trendy.   Nor hip, en vogue or whack!  I didn’t have a record bag or bomber jacket in secondary school; in fact I wore the same grey skirt for 5 years which is one of the perks to being the same height since the age of 9.

And this has continued throughout my life; Ray-bans don’t suit my face, I can’t carry off the customary summer “boho” look each year or get away with saying “Innit?” whilst flicking my wrist. (I can’t even manage to describe the action in a cool way!)

I was reminded of this lack of street-cred last week when I attended an audition for 'Viva Forever' the new Spice Girls musical.  You need to understand something about actors; even if they don’t want a job when offered an audition, or even worse a recall, they start imagining themselves in the role.  They start to plan their life post getting it and convince themselves it could be a stepping stone to something else or help them save for a house.  The reality is that you never save because you buy Starbucks everyday or the tax man takes it all the following January.

Who has the energy to Spice Up Your Life?

But I transgress; I knew I probably wasn’t right for this new pop musical.  Despite my killer rendition of Viva Forever in a Magaluf karaoke bar after a bucket of sangria in 1999 ,I have firmly left my bouncy pop-self in my last performances of Mamma Mia!  But I started convincing myself that maybe I still had a bit of inner funk left and I could maybe abandon all my writing dreams and be happily ensconced in a massive West End musical for 12 months.

So there I was at the 'Viva Forever' singing audition at the respectable time of 12 noon.  Seeing some comrades of musical theatre auditions relaxed me as these girls were also on the wrong side of 29, so how bad could it be?  But then these so-called comrades changed into their “audition outfits”* and suddenly I was out of the game; I was surrounded by leopard print leggings, leather leggings, converse trainer boots and even a 1990s black bowler hat.  There was make-up, big hair and loud belty voices powering out The Pointer Sisters’ “Jump!” from the other side of the audition room door.  Me and my smart navy dress slowly melted into the background wishing I could teleport myself back home to the Beatrix Potter biography I am currently reading.



Sometimes we are just not suitable!  Image from the album Jesus Chris Superstar,
you can buy it now at www.christhatcher.co.uk

It will not be a surprise to you that I didn’t get re-called to the dance audition, although I later discovered it included 3 routines in an hour plus a bit of crumping so I was relieved.  Crumping?  I didn’t know what it was either, apparently it is a “hip hop grindy thing” as demonstrated on MTV and there I was thinking it involved crimping your hair and eating crumpets. 

I am just not suited to being in 'Viva Forever,' I can’t even dress up and pretend I am.  In case you now see me as some insecure woman who has no idea who she is, let me assure you that this is not the case.  I have grown to accept and love my quirks in my weird little world but sometimes events like that audition just shake you for a few seconds, especially in an industry where we are all judged by our appearance. 

Whatever job we do, don’t we all wish we could be a bit more this or a little less that sometimes?  It could bring us more success, happiness or relationships.  But as Beverley Knight sang so wonderfully at the opening ceremony of The Paralympics last night “I am what I am” such pertinent lyrics by Jerry Herman that tell us to embrace our individuality.  The world would be a very dull place if we all wore leather leggings and bowler hats.

"Cherish forever what makes you unique, 'cuz you're really a yawn if it goes."  Bette Midler

I have no desire to be ‘street’ or ‘with it’ (more phrases that betray my M&S clothes wearing self) but to all those audition girls who are, good luck and enjoy a wonderful job in the West End and I’ll keep praying for a more suitable ITV period drama casting or writing pitch. 

As my nephew learnt with one of his toys – you can’t put a square peg in a circular hole.

But seeing as actresses are allowed to be emotional and dwell on things - the fact I was never allowed Buffalos (don’t pretend you don’t remember the wedge trainer, The Spice Girls were to Buffalos what Carrie Bradshaw was to Manolo Blahniks) just cements how uncool I was and why, 14 years later I am still not cool enough to be in The Spice Girls show so, therefore, with no psychiatrist to tell me otherwise, my lack of trendy genes......?  I blame my parents! 

 

* you can find my thoughts on "audition outfits" in the article "That's all we need for today..." listed opposite on my pages