When I was 21 I auditioned to become an entertainer for a holiday company by singing a Victoria Wood song. In fact I had been performing her stuff for years, for school friends, family, in my bedroom singing along to my cassettes, charity evenings and so on. In the ’80s she was the only solo female comedian I was really aware of; I was hooked. I was only young but I felt I could relate to her tales of romance and everyday issues, her stories and characters and the imaginative way she used language to create such wonderful ditties. In college, for an acting monologue I chose her tour guide monologue – “it is in fact, Laura Ashley.”
It was a rendition of one of her songs that won me a coveted place as a Butlins Redcoat the previous year: “You had an ideal girl, I couldn’t match her, I didn’t want to it was Mrs Thatcher.”
My family were so proud when I got the job to go abroad and entertain holidaymakers – as I had been doing in my living room for years – my stepdad recorded me a song changing the words to Elton John’s Daniel to fit with how much they would miss me and that they thought I was a star. ‘Suzy is leaving tonight on a plane…’ you get the jist. My favourite line he wrote was ‘Victoria Wood be proud of you now’.
Like so many of my comedy peers I owe much to Victoria. She paved the way for us. I grew up watching and listening to her and could only dream of one day enthralling audiences of all ages and walks of life with such down to earth, clever, warm humour. From the early years of the swimming the channel sketch and Coronation Street parody to her beloved ensemble show Dinnerladies, her lines are quoted in households all over the country.
Only last week I was singing the saucy The Ballad of Freda and Barry with my friend while we were driving (a song I would sing to entertain the holiday makers abroad in a cagoule) from hostess trollies to Womans Weeklies she found the funny in the everyday. I have lost count of the amount of times I have watched my Acorn Antiques dvd. I saw the stage show version twice in the West end where Victoria would stand in as Mrs Overall to give the incredible Julie Walters poor bent over back a rest – “Oh I am pleased!”
One of the qualities that Victoria is known for is her generosity in writing very funny parts for other people. Notably in Dinnerladies the gentle rivalry between Anne Reid and Thelma Barlow stood out for me – “I don’t know who thinks they’ve washed this spatula!” and and of course with Julie in her As Seen on tv shows, Pat and Margaret and countless other shows: “Next door had sex again last night, I mean I like a joke but that’s twice this month!”
She was never afraid to look ridiculous and send herself up. There was many a nod to diets and body issues and ageing with her unique way of laughing at life and making light of life’s ups and downs, “I sometimes think being widowed is God’s way of telling you to come off the pill.” Her step aerobics sketch gave me the confidence to don a bright pink leotard and take part in a sketch on stage which my holiday rep friends and guests alike have etched into their memories, I was quite a sight but if Victoria could do it so could I!
I came close to meeting her a couple of times. I hosted the Moonwalk charity event, an event which she supported and took part in with her friends. She even made a documentary on the subject. She was due to see me in a show a few years ago at Edinburgh and I glimpsed her in the street across the road from me at one point but was told that night she sent her apologies but had a very long day and couldn’t make it after all. My response was ‘But she knows about me, though?’
My comedy hero, the lady whose influence (and material!) had opened many doors for me and set me on the path to becoming a comedian knew that I existed! This made me very happy. A hardworking lady, she had so much more to give and her loss has been felt deeply as she was, and will remain, a British icon. We are grateful for the laughs and the many hours of entertainment you gifted us and for inspiring us funny women to follow in your footsteps. So make a cup of tea, grab a macaroon and take a break from lagging those pipes and watch this.
Read Funny Women founder Lynne Parker’s thoughts on Victoria Wood’s death here
