Julian Clary says "I’d bite their hands off" for an MBE

A frequent face on television since the 1980s, Clary crosses all media with his stereotypically camp style from game shows, to pantomimes, to even penning a series of books, including novels and children’s stories, having a fortnightly column in the New Statesman and even winning Celebrity Big Brother in 2012.

His new show The Joy of Mincing will see him tell all about his love life, his career, and how he saved Dame Joan Collins’ life.

Here the household name talks to The Guide about comedy, poker, MBEs, and Strictly Come Dancing ahead of his pair of shows in Crawley and Eastbourne.

The Guide: The show is called the Joy of Mincing, where did that come from?
I always like to get ‘mincing’ into the title. We’ve had Lord of the Mince; Natural Born Mincer; and Mincing Machine was my first tour in 1989. I don’t know why; it sets the tone, doesn’t it? I suppose mincing, apart from being a means of walking around, is a way of life. The Joy of Mincing is a declaration of the joy of life despite disapproval, perhaps.

You’ve been performing for 30 years. How has comedy changed during that time?
It’s changed beyond all recognition.It used to be an eclectic selection of people in small rooms above pubs, in the 1980s. Our comedy was a reaction against the right-wing men in bow-ties who were being offered as light entertainment in those days. 

Has your comedy changed?
Yes, a bit. I think you evolve, whether you want to or not. There was a certain amount of anger and delight in confronting people when I started, which has more or less gone now. Making people laugh is my main aim in life these days. I don’t think there’s so much to be angry about now. 

Do you have fans who have been following your career for that full 30 years?
There are, and they bring their children along now. I’m very fond of them, you know. You don’t know their names necessarily, but it’s always a joy to see a familiar face. There’s a delightful family from Tunbridge Wells I’ve known since the boy was 13 and now he’s a grown-up. It’s charming. We talk about the old days at the Hackney Empire, or our aches and pains. There’s a connection there, even though we don’t really know each other, because on one level we do.

What sort of stories will you be telling on this tour?
Well, there’s a rather long story about how I once saved Joan Collins’s life in a swimming pool in St Tropez. It’s a true story, which I won’t give away now, but it’s a long, meandering tale that fills the first half. Then the second half is about MBEs. I’ve noticed a lot of my friends in the business are getting these awards. They’re handing them out like Smarties. I think, ‘Ooh, I’d like one of those’, but it’s never happened so I’m obviously not favoured by the Establishment. I can only blame myself. So during the show, I give myself one and call it ‘Mincer of the British Empire’. I’m making lots of these MBEs and handing them out to people in the audience. Just the lucky few, you understand: it’s not included in the ticket price. I’m always looking for an excuse to talk to the audience. That’s what keeps me going. You can get bored if you’re just reeling off the same old nonsense.
I’m always very interested in the audience and their stories. People are very funny; they never fail to amuse.

If you were offered an MBE in real life, you would accept?
I’d bite their hands off. I think I’ve been too rude about the Royal Family over the years, unfortunately. I’m probably on some kind of black list somewhere.

Your personal life seems to have changed as much as your career – you’ve turned your back on partying and now live an idyllic rural lifestyle in a village in Kent, is that right?
Yes. Well that’s what I’m telling you anyway. I think there’s nothing drearier than a 56 year old homosexual hanging around Soho in lycra. Mercifully, one grows out of that. Thank goodness.

You don’t miss those days, at all?
Absolutely not. You’d have to pay a lot of money to get me into a nightclub, sniffing and snorting and dragging some trollop home with me. Yuck. I like to keep myself nice these days.

What’s happened to the old outfits?
I’ve still got them, though goodness knows what I’ll ever do with them. I might bring some of them on the tour, as it’s my 30 year anniversary. A kind of retrospective fashion show. I used to look at all these drawings of rubber outfits covered in feathers and think, ‘My goodness, that’s outrageous, I couldn’t possibly’.
But that was part of the fun.

Are you never tempted to wear them again?
Don’t be silly. I sniff them sometimes. Just for old times’ sake. Scent is very evocative isn’t it?

What do you think the public perception is of you, and do you think they’d be surprised by your real life?
Maybe people imagine I’m camp and outrageous all the time and that I wear full make-up and glittery outfits when I’m at home doing the hoovering. In fact I wear just a touch of raspberry lip balm and a drip dry kimono. Just like anyone else.

Is there any reason why you don’t do panel shows?
Yes. Because I can’t stand them. They take about five and a half hours to record and often in a rather aggressive atmosphere. Not my idea of a fun evening. 

You came third on Strictly Come Dancing and won Celebrity Big Brother. Are there any other reality shows you’d like to do?
I like reality television. I like watching it, and I like things that are unscripted.
What about acting? I don’t have any burning desire to act. I’ve spent so long creating my persona that it seems strange to let that go and be someone else. I’m always looking for a surprising offer, mind you. Good things often come along as a sort of divine intervention. Just as you’re thinking, ‘What am I going to do next year?’, something wonderful comes along. If it doesn’t I’ll think up my own fun and games in the privacy of my luxury home. And I’ll make sure I draw the curtains before I start.

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