June 2008

PROFILE OF A GYPSY

WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?

Tilda Swinton: One of my son’s aertex shirts, his father’s corduroy jacket, a daisy chain, a Vivienne Westwood kilt and no shoes.

Jackie Leven: A ‘See You Jimmy’ bonnet, an ancient white linen shirt, a Vivienne Westwood kilt and John Lobb brogues.

WHEN DID YOU FIRST REALISE YOU MIGHT BE A GLAMOROUS ECCENTRIC? TS: Putting a name to the condition: possibly only when you asked me to participate in this falderal, but I did have an inkling fairly recently at a Nine Inch Nails concert, when I was stood on in the mosh pit by a hobnail boot and realised that I had forgotten to change out of the towelling slippers from the hotel.

JL: When I was thirteen I was obliged to start wearing sunglasses to school to protect my eyes when the sky was too white and glary – I still can’t deal with severe ‘glare’. This immediately marked me out amongst other pupils as an eccentric, if not a loonie – I became glamorous overnight when I noticed that the singer Lulu, when on television, had fallen madly in love with me via the black and white screen. She recorded ‘I’m A Tiger’ just for me....

WERE YOUR PARENTS HORRIFIED?

TS: Given that my general father could chew the hind leg of Lesage (Francois, the legendary couture designer) about the best way to tissue-wrap gold frogging, I never reckoned they had a leg to stand on.

JL: They were certainly un-amused when my girlfriend persuaded me to let her dye my hair orange. “Why?” I asked. “Because it would be ‘cool’”. At the time I was fascinated by newspaper articles about beatniks, and so wanted to be ‘cool.’ “Now people will think yer a fuckin protestant” my father pointed out. I hadn’t thought of that...

ARE YOU PRONE TO MOOD SWINGS?
TS:
No, but don’t tell anyone...

JL: Sometimes I don’t know whether to laugh or cry...

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN MOCKED FOR ANY OF YOUR GLAMOROUS ECCENTRICITIES?

TS: Naturally. Being broken into mockery at a young age by three brothers, I learnt early to bear those wounds with great pride.

JL: Nothing pleases the eternal soul more than to feel misunderstood, alone in the world because people laugh at you in pubs for wearing tartan shorts in January.

WHAT IS THE MOST ECCENTRICALLY GLAM THING IN YOUR CLOSET?

TS: Possibly a Hubert de Givenchy wool Pierrot dress with a diamond print that is so lovely, even the fact that it reeks of mothballs – and could that be old-lady pee? – won’t stop me wearing it.

JL: Context is everything. In a previous life I used to go to sheep dog trials where all the gents wore woolly grey ties with the occasional racy lime green stripe. I often wore a beautiful Moschino tie – midnight blue with silver/beige stars – even the sheep dogs would look over in amazement: not a day goes by when I don’t go the bedroom to finger this item.

HAVE YOU EVER WISHED YOU COULD TRADE IN YOUR LIFE OF GLAMOROUS ECCENTRICITY FOR ONE OF DREARY CONFORMITY?

TS: No need to trade. I happily cultivate two entirely separate and distinct looks, and yet mix’n’ match perfectly integrated lives. I’m finding it hard to work out which could be best described as glam eccentric and which dreary conformity. The Highland hospice charity shops that dot every village in the north of Scotland are where I live out my Miss Marple comes to Warmington-On-Sea fantasies. Invariably more enticing in every way than the drudgery of the high-chrome road.

JL: I thoroughly enjoy dreary conformity and have ensured that I always have the sartorial wherewithal to look like an ordinary bloke who admittedly needs a haircut in the corner of a Portsmouth pub so I can listen to the conversations of other dreary conformists. One must be careful however, of not inadvertently soliciting bartender’s guffaws along the lines of “Lookout lads! ’ Ere comes Mad Jaaack all dressed up as a dreary conformist.”

WHEN DOES GLAMOROUS ECCENTRICITY BECOME IDIOCY?

TS: When it is perpetrated with the aid of a solemn looking glass.

JL: Whenever you think – “that’s a nice eccentric touch” you’re probably being an idiot.

WHO IS YOUR INSPIRATIONAL ICON OF GLAMOROUS ECCENTRICITY?

TS: My fearless and sensationally chic grandmother and my nine year old daughter.

JL: My inner Gordon Brown.

DO MEN THINK YOU ARE HOT?

TS: Of course they do – whether they admit it or not.

JL: Not all of them, especially at live shows if their girlfriend
decides I’m the funniest, most talented, darlingest man that ever
walked the earth.

WHAT IS THE THING THAT MOST OFFENDS YOUR GLAMOROUSLY ECCENTRIC SENSIBILITES?

TS: The death knell; witless good taste.

JL: Old geezers in grey flannel trousers when they could be wearing a Vivienne Westwood kilt.

WHERE DO YOU WISH TO BE BURIED AND IN WHAT?

TS: In a shallow grave of sand, done up to the nines in a huge flowery chiffon dress stretched out like a sail on a beach in the Hebrides, pecked to pieces by birds.

JL: Same as Tilda.