I'm so aware of the fact that if I hadn't taken the chances that I've taken along the line, I probably wouldn't be getting the best out of my voice anymore, I might have messed it up in that awful, predictable place.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I've learnt to accept what has happened to my voice, I suppose, but I do wish it didn't sound quite so rough.
I have a feeling that about 90% of my life has been shaped by my voice, both as an embarrassment and as an advantage. There was always the terrible incongruity of this deep voice barreling out of this little body. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that it was ludicrous, that it took on an importance that wasn't really there.
But I've had to act and not depend on my voice so much.
The amazing thing now is that most of those so-called critics who were telling me to find my own voice seem to have lost theirs.
I was going to be the next big voice-over thing, of course, in my mind. I didn't.
My voice had a long, nonstop career. It deserves to be put to bed with quiet and dignity, not yanked out every once in a while to see if it can still do what it used to do. It can't.
Even in the early Eighties, when I was one of the most successful models in Britain, I didn't really have a voice. Time after time, when I should have spoken up, I simply walked away.
It may not necessarily reflect my current frame of mind. Sometimes I have to put myself at the point in time of the voice that I'm trying to sing with.
Plus, I've always felt that, if the worst came to the worst in my career, I could always fall back to doing voices on the radio.
I never really think too much about my voice.