A pin-up for Scottish pensioners

‘I’m a pin-up for Scottish pensioners’

Mary Wakefield

8 September 2007

Clarissa Dickson Wright speaks her mind

‘And I was healed by a holy relic once,’ she adds. ‘I had an ear infection and I was in the worst pain I’ve ever known. They thought I might die. My mother, who was a Catholic, had a relic of Blessed Martin de Porres, you know, the black Brazilian monk, and she placed it on my ear. Ma said she saw a figure cross the room and put a hand to my head. Apparently I said thank you, fell asleep, and the next morning I was fine.’

I imagine her self-belief helped her survive too. ‘Someone once tested me and said I have an IQ of 196,’ she says at one point, apropos not much, and she doesn’t seem surprised. Then: ‘I was the youngest woman ever called to the Bar — I think I still am.’ It’s not arrogance so much as unshakeable confidence — the same self-assuredness that enabled her to sail so magnificently into the TV success with Jennifer Paterson as the Two Fat Ladies.

What was it like being a celebrity? Did it go to your head? ‘Well, my best friend from school always said, “You always thought everybody knew who you were when you walked into a room, now reality’s caught up with you,”’ Clarissa chuckles, ‘and becoming famous with Jennifer, we were able to share the joke together. It was certainly good to prove our critics wrong. When Roy Hattersley reviewed the programme he said, “These two hideous women will never succeed,” and I’ve yearned to confront him with it ever since. Hideous indeed — hasn’t he looked in the mirror?’

‘The most important thing is that it wasn’t celebrity for celebrity’s sake,’ she says. ‘We believed in good food and local produce. I can’t understand these celebrities who are just interested in fame and money. Take Jamie Oliver, for instance, he could have been such a force for good, but then he sold out to the supermarkets. And now he hangs out with real butchers and the like, and wonders why they aren’t particularly pleased to see him.’