It took 10 months for me to learn to tie a lace; I must have howled with rage and frustration. But one day I could tie my laces. That no one can take from you. I profoundly distrust the pedagogy of ease.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I do have a blurred memory of sitting on the stairs and trying over and over again to tie one of my shoelaces, but that is all that comes back to me of school itself.
After about six months, I told my mother that I wanted the lessons to stop, and she was intelligent enough not to force me to continue. Besides, the lessons cost money, which was anything but abundant in our household.
You know you're getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces and wonder what else you could do while you're down there.
For me, wearing a tie is a pleasure, a recherche one but a pleasure nonetheless. You could say that I'm avoiding tie avoidance. My own gorgeous collection runs into hundreds and I buy them the way I buy books - I simply can't pass a shop. I have loved them since I could spend my own money on them.
I've returned to being an amateur without any ties or strings attached, which gives me a freedom I never had before.
I needed more knowledge in rigging and knotting. I started collecting books on knots and really learning more and more. That's how it started. And also in magic, of course. With a piece of rope, you can do magic.
When I was sent to public school, I was relieved that I could wear what I wanted to wear.
I was always in trouble at school for what I was wearing; I was never made a prefect because of the way I used to dress - I ripped my tights, my skirts were too short, all sorts of things.
When I was 12, my feet were so small, I wore my sisters' glitter shoes. My dad would whoop me: 'You're not going to school now, you'll embarrass us!'
In my whole life, I've worn black tie three times. I can't tie the knot myself.