Fashion Brief
Getting ready for a gig is like a bit of Japanese Noh theatre. I’ll get to a venue and say, “I’ve never been here before in my life”, then I’ll go into the dressing room, there will be something about a whiff in the toilet that I’ll recognise, and I’ll think, “Oh, yes, I’ve been here seven times.” People have a romantic idea of life backstage, but most dressing rooms are bleak. In the West End they are mostly mousetraps and other people’s filth.
I am alcohol-free before a gig. My rider includes Diet Coke and low-calorie sandwiches from Marks Spencer: tomato–free, because they give me mouth ulcers. If it is an 8pm show during the week, I will allow myself the Archers, but I turn everything off 35 minutes before the show. At this point, anyone who thinks they might pop in and say hello can sod right off. I must not be disturbed – I am putting my face on. It’s basically a layer on top of the one I applied earlier in the day.
I always wear trousers – I can’t gig in skirts. Now, because I’m quite fat, it’s black trousers; my PVC jean-wearing days are over. I like a pair of well cut, crepe trousers by German label, Oska, a leopardskin ballet shoe and a shirt.
There’s a mutter-through before I go on – I’m a very scripted standup – then I tug my left earlobe with my thumb and forefinger, a ritual that came about after I went to see a hypnotherapist. I wash my hands first, though, because I once got a wart behind my ear. Let that be a lesson to everyone.
• Jenny Eclair’s show How To Be A Middle-Aged Woman (Without Going Insane) is touring the UK now.
