2
" Brian Wilson went to bed for three years. Jean-Michel Basquiat would spend all day in bed. Monica Ali, Charles Bukowski, Marcel Proust, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Tracey Emin, Emily Dickinson, Edith Sitwell, Frida Kahlo, William Wordsworth, René Descartes, Mark Twain, Henri Matisse, Kathy Acker, Derek Jarman and Patti Smith all worked or work from bed and they’re productive people. (Am I protesting too much?) Humans take to their beds for all sorts of reasons: because they’re overwhelmed by life, need to rest, think, recover from illness and trauma, because they’re cold, lonely, scared, depressed – sometimes I lie in bed for weeks with a puddle of depression in my sternum – to work, even to protest (Emily Dickinson, John and Yoko). Polar bears spend six months of the year sleeping, dormice too. Half their lives are spent asleep, no one calls them lazy. There’s a region in the South of France, near the Alps, where whole villages used to sleep through the seven months of winter – I might be descended from them. And in 1900, it was recorded that peasants from Pskov in northwest Russia would fall into a deep winter sleep called lotska for half the year: ‘for six whole months out of the twelve to be in the state of Nirvana longed for by Eastern sages, free from the stress of life, from the need to labour, from the multitudinous burdens, anxieties, and vexations of existence’.‡ Even when I’m well I like to lie in bed and think. It’s as if "
― Viv Albertine , To Throw Away Unopened
3
" Yes, we forgive you, Daddy!' we chorus. We have to forgive him, we've got to see him every day, life’s going to be even more uncomfortable if we don’t forgive him; it’s a matter of survival. We just want everything to be all right, or seem to be all right. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
4
" At last there is an unknown element back in my life. This is how it used to be. This is how I used to do things before the eighties and jobs and money and careers and Thatcher and marriage and mortgages. I was spontaneous, free, even reckless. Things often didn’t work out, but I felt alive. Painfully alive. For the last few years I’ve been feeling painfully dead. That drive, that lust for life that everyone expects you to have after surviving cancer, well it took ten years to arrive, but here it is. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me any more, I’m going to live life to the full, starting with New York. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
5
" Johnny Rotten slouches at the front of the stage, propped up on the mike stand. He's leaning so far forward he looks as if he might topple into the empty space in front of the audience. · His face is pale and his body is twisted into such an awkward ugly shape he looks deformed. He looks ordinary, about the same age as us, the kind of boy I was at comprehensive school with. He's not a flashy star like Marc Bolan or David Bowie, all dressed up in exotic costumes, he's not a virtuoso musician like Eric Clapton or Peter Green, he's not even a macho rock-and-roll pub-band singer – he's just a bloke from Finsbury Park, London, England, who’s pissed off. Johnny sneers at us in his ordinary North London accent, his voice isn't trained and tuneful, it's a whiny cynical drawl, every song delivered unemotionally. There's no fake American twang either. All the things I'm so embarrassed about, John's made into virtues. He's unapologetic about who he is and where he comes from. Proud of it even. He's not taking the world's lack of interest as confirmation that he’s wrong or worthless. I look up at him twisting and yowling and realise it's everyone else who's wrong, not him. How did he make that mental leap from musically untrained, state-school-educated, council estate boy, to standing on stage in front of a band? I think he's brave. A revolutionary. He's sending a very powerful message, the most powerful message anyone can ever transmit. Be yourself. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
6
" Six months after Lucien traveled to Australia, Mum left her son, her parents, her brothers and sisters, her work, her friends and her country, sailed over the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, through the Suez Canal, across the Indian Ocean, into the Pacific and joined her husband in Sydney to start a new life. That's the sort of thing people did back then. Everyone was starting again after the war, after losing mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, children, husbands and wives. It seems shocking now, but there wasn't such a sentimental attitude towards family or such a fear of death then as we have now. (People who live through wars often develop attachment disorders as protection from loss.) "
― Viv Albertine , To Throw Away Unopened
7
" I think there’s something very healthy about keeping your own cave clean. It is a good barometer of how your life is going, the state of your home. If it’s a complete tip, you’re taking on too much or depressed; if someone else has to keep it clean for you, it’s too big or you’re too busy. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
9
" Skinny as Mum was, she'd always had a good appetite, so when she couldn't eat her roast potatoes I knew the end must be nigh.
[...] We opened our presents and Mum put a polka-dot shower cap on her head and let us take pictures of her in it, which was most unlike her, she liked to be a bit dignified about things. This was another indication that she knew she was dying. Other signs to look out for are when an elderly person starts giving away their things – usually about two or three years before they die – and if they insist, rather aggressively, on returning anything they've borrowed or get annoyed if you give them gifts – they don't want any more clutter. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
13
" I say something provocative to Posh Boy, he threatens me with violence, and the next thing I know, Sid's whipped off his studded belt, wrapped around his fist and smashed Posh Boy over the head with the buckle end. Splits his head open. (Sid taught me this move: wrap the tongue of the belt round your hand, use the buckle as the weapon, it's important to lock your arm straight whilst you wield the belt, and do the worst thing you can think of first. That’s the only chance you’ve got.) "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
14
" Musicians are our real teachers. They are opening us up politically with their lyrics and creatively with experimental, psychedelic music. They share their discoveries and journeys with us. We can’t travel far, no one I know has ever been on an aeroplane. ... whatever they experience, we experience through their songs. It’s true folk music — not played on acoustic guitar by a bearded bloke — but about true-life experiences. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
15
" The Woodcraft Folk is a youth organisation, a bit like Brownies or Scouts but it mixes boys and girls together and has an arty, bohemian vibe. [...] We call the adults in charge ‘leaders’ and address them by their Christian names – this is the first time I'm allowed to call an adult by their first name. At Woodcraft children are treated like people, not half-formed irrelevant creatures, we are consulted on every decision that's made. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
17
" I go home, empty out three large cardboard boxes and stick them together so they make a long thin coffin shape. I lie in the coffin – in the middle of the living room – every day. And every day, I draw a blanket closer and closer to my face, until by the third day I can stand it covering my face for five minutes. When I can lie in the box for half an hour, I go back and have the MRI.
This time I’m fine. Some things you just can’t do without practice. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
18
" [On Vivienne Westwood] Vivienne’s scary, for the reason any truthful, plain-talking person is scary – she exposes you. If you haven’t been honest with yourself, this makes you feel extremely uncomfortable, and if you are a con merchant the game is up. She's uncompromising in every way: what she says, what she stands for, what she expects from you and how she dresses. She's direct and judgmental with a strong northern accent that accentuates her sincerity. She has a confidence I haven't seen in any other woman. She’s strong, opinionated and smart. She can’t beat complacency. She’s the most inspiring person I’ve ever met. Sid told me, ‘Vivienne says you’re talented but last.’ I’ve worked at everything twice as hard since he said that. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
19
" I can’t stand up in front of people and play and sing. I would rather die.
Remember, Viv, the Year of Saying Yes. So what if I die? So what if I’m crap and make a fool of myself? I know that no one ever does anything or gets anywhere without failure and foolishness. I’ve got to do it. Nelson has made me an offer I can’t refuse, the bugger. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
20
" [On a violent encounter with a boyfriend] Before I’ve even blinked, he’s snatched both my wrists, gripping them tightly together whilst dragging me back into the room.
[...]
I sense utter madness, blind rage and a very practiced hand, and decide with a calmness that is necessary for survival not to make a sound. Not to move a muscle. I go completely limp and acquiesce. You don’t argue with crazy. And I don’t want to give him one tiny reason to beat me to a pulp. "
― Viv Albertine , Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys
