‘Don’t Go Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly’
EXTRACT FROM:
‘Don’t Go Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly’
By Sally Bee
The title of the book came from the last words my mum said to me before she died...and below I share with you some of her words.
WHAT MAMA WROTE...
I’m writing this book from my heart, and part of my heart belongs to the relationship I had with my mum, Jill.
Jill was a force of nature, with a big attitude driven by her desire for fun and independence. She was happily married to my dad for 45 years before she died at the age of 68. She was totally dedicated to him, but also to herself. And it is this gift that she handed down to me, and I hope to hand it down to you too.
No-one else is coming to fix you.
You need to fix yourself.
Jill died far too young, it was tragic, but the legacy she left me gives me the strength to withstand anything that life throws at me.
Before she died Jill wrote a book about my life, as if speaking in my voice and these are some of her wonderful words...
“So, I’m Sally. I left school with a smile on my face and one and a half O’ levels in my pocket. Saying that I left school might suggest that I actually attended. That could be slightly overstating the case. I did sort of go, but not on a regular basis. Of course, I had to put in an appearance occasionally if only to keep one eye on the talent, and the other eye on the competition.
To be honest, it could be a bit of an inconvenience, (having to go to school) but hot boys were a rarity, so any new possibilities needed to be claimed quickly.
Before an appearance could commence, a quick unscheduled trip home was required in order to ditch the unflattering blouse, tie and woolly jumper, hitch up my regulation school skirt to somewhere around my midriff and quickly dash back to school, leaving me out of breath from the unaccustomed exercise involved. (Yes, I usually managed to bunk off PE too)...
I easily perfected the art of seeming to be in school more often than I actually was, by being as disruptive and noisy as possible when I did put in an appearance – thus encouraging the teachers to blot me from their conscious recognition, and having a cast iron alibi when I didn’t.
Changing my hair colour on a regular basis also threw the teachers slightly off track; as did turfing out my friends from their regular desks, plonking myself down in their place, smiling innocently, and consequently reading someone else’s homework.
...I left school at 16, and for a year or two, I had a high old time, and even had one or two proper jobs. Well, proper in the sense that they existed, rather than in the sense that I did them properly.
Now and again my dad would look at his bank statement and sigh very pointedly in my direction. He would tentatively suggest that a two-day week was intended for people approaching retirement, rather than for daughters who simply couldn’t fit in five days of work around their social commitments. When this happened I would invariably go out and get three jobs, and spend the next few weeks demanding lifts to get me from one to the other. This, along with needing meals and bathwater at inconvenient times, caused my parents to heave a small sigh of relief when I slipped back into the old routine.
Failing the appearance of a millionaire boyfriend, I finally gave serious thought to the business of making a living and began to consider the options. I needed a job with reasonable hours, say from 11am to 3.30pm, with an hour and a half for lunch. If absolutely necessary I could stretch to 5 days a week but obviously not every week. Oh and it needed to be well- paid and preferably not involve anything manual which might chip my nail varnish. Scanning the papers and being laughed out of job centres eventually convinced me that this job might not exist unless I was considering a future in politics!”
(My mum had the most wonderful sense of humour!)
PERFECTLY IMPERFECT
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...As I’ve already said, I’ve always been a curvy girl.
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In my 20’s I was a model for an underwear company called Warners. They made underwear under their own label and also made items for Marks and Spencer. For them, I worked as a ‘house model’. This is someone who spends time in the design studio being drawn upon! In those days I was a perfect bra size 34b and a size 12 in the knickers. So I would turn up to a session, ready to strip off and dance around in underwear! Not in a glamorous, Kylie Minogue kind of way, more in a test dummy, testing seat belts kind of way.
The designers would pass me a set of underwear to put on. Even this was a skill that I spent hours perfecting. Knickers were easy; I passed that exam straight away. Bras were a little more complicated. You had to do the usual, put it on backwards to do the clasp, then swizzle it around so the boulder holders were at the front, you would put the shoulder straps in place and lean over at a 45-degree angle and jiggle. The way you jiggled was crucially important. The idea was to let your breasts find their natural form inside the bra so that bra and boob worked together as one!
Sometimes, I didn’t jiggle in the correct direction and I’d end up a little left hand side down!
Next came a bit of manoeuvres and colouring in. Once I’d successfully jiggled symmetrically, the designer would take her felt tip pen and draw the outline of said bra and knickers directly onto my skin. I was then asked to dance, touch my toes, reach up high, and lean from side to side...in my head, I was doing this to The Bee Gee’s Night Fever. I was a great little mover.
Once I’d satisfied everyone that I’d done every movement my body was capable of, I would get drawn on again. This time it was all about where the underwear had travelled!
How many millimetres do the knickers move on my buttocks, was one boob trying to escape more than the other, had the back strap risen at all?
It was fun, I enjoyed it although I somehow don’t think that underwear companies go through the same rigours these days, as when I do it at home now, the staying power of the underwear is shocking!
I’d also walk in fashion shows for Warners, and this I loved! The fun and camaraderie of the girls backstage made me giggle constantly. It’s a miracle we all made it out on stage in one piece. Getting ready with the make-up artists and hairdressers was my favourite part. It helped us all feel our most feminine and ready to step out on the stage. I have always been inspired by 1950s movie star styles, so I had a beautiful collection of dressing gowns to float around in backstage. If I had smoked I would definitely have held my cigarette in a long and elegant holder.
I continued to work as a photographic model for lots of different designers and fashion houses, and I was one of the first girls to be labelled an ‘outsize’ model. Yep, in the late ’80s and early 90’s a curvy size 12 was regarded as outsize in the modelling world. Unbelievable. However, I seemed to be able to work it to my advantage.
I remember one particular fashion show I was rehearsing for at the Savoy Hotel in London. All the normal-sized models were munching on their lettuce leaves and looking pretty miserable, while me and my outsize model buddies were tucking into pizza with joy and abandon. One of the normal girls came up and said she wished she could eat a slice, but if she did her agent would sack her.
I replied,
“Oh honey, you should come over to our side, we get paid pound for pound so the more we eat, the more we get paid!”
She believed me. Ha - if only.
Now at the age of 54, with 3 children borne and 5 heart attacks survived, my view of my body is one of respect, love and admiration. It has carried me through so much and I’m thankful for every stretch mark, fold, dimple and scar.
Now I’m going to let you into a little secret:
Your body is, by far, the least interesting part about you. None of your friends loves you because of your body shape, they love you because of your spirit. Your body is there to carry you through your adventurous life, so don’t let it dictate whether or not you have a passionate spirit. Do not do yourself that disservice.
I have finally learned to love my body. I think it’s perfectly imperfect and I wouldn’t change a thing.
?....these were extracts from my bestselling book 'Don't Go Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly' written to empower and inspire all women....Perfect for MOTHERS DAY!
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SB xxx