Katy Brand, 42, is an actress, comedian and writer. She first made a name for herself on the comedy circuit before starring in her own television show on the BBC, Katy Brand’s Big Ass Show, where she would often impersonate celebrities in her sketches. Brand now lives in London with her husband, son and stepdaughter.
When my little sister was born I wanted to visit her in the hospital dressed up as a nurse. I was about three and a half. My grandma got me this little nurse costume and then I remember painting my face with facepaint, so I had rosy red cheeks, blue around my eyes and a scribble on my forehead. My grandma took me to the hospital and I remember suddenly being aware that people were smiling behind their hands. I remember looking at myself in the mirror in the toilets in the hospital and suddenly thinking, “I look silly.” I think that sums up a few things.
Jay-Z is the one who really springs to mind where I’ve not been able to function, just because I’m such a fan of his and I think he’s a genius. The producer of my TV show, back when I was doing TV stuff, got some backstage tickets to see Jay-Z in a concert in London. He introduced himself and was very friendly to me – and then I almost bolted for a corner.
After the concert, we were in Jay-Z’s entourage and we all piled into these black cars with blacked-out windows and got driven in convoy to the Dorchester for drinks. I was trying to be disciplined – I left at about 2am. But then I was in trouble the next morning because I had a 5am wake-up call for my next day of filming and I promised the producer that if I went out, I wouldn’t be late. And I was late, by about an hour, so I got a bollocking.
It was at a nice bar in Soho about 12 years ago. I went there to meet a couple of friends for drinks, and it was just one of those evenings that absolutely snowballed. Everyone invited another couple of people and another couple of people... Word went out among all of us that used to do live comedy sketches together and comedy writers and directors. Suddenly we had kind of colonised the back of this place. It just swelled into this fantastic mass of brilliant, funny people. All of my favourite people were in one place on this one evening. I’ll always remember it.
I wrote a feature film screenplay just for the pure joy of it about an older woman who had been widowed and had felt that she’d never had good sex in her life. She decides to book a male sex worker for the night to see if she can experience good sex and find that connection with somebody. I wrote it last year, just for myself. Later that year, I was put in touch with a producer who read it and decided she wanted to make it. I had written the part with Emma Thompson in mind and she read it and agreed to do it. It’s being finished now and I think it will be out next year. That was like a dream.
In my first ever solo Edinburgh show in 2005. One night I went to the box office and they said, “You’ve already sold 15 tickets for tonight. It’s a block booking from a golf club” and I thought, “What’s going on?” They hated it. It was pin-drop silence – in fact, angry silence. They sat with their arms crossed. There was a part of me that was saying, “Why don’t you just say, ‘Look everyone, you’re hating this, I’m hating this, you can have your money back and let’s just call it quits’.” But then I remember getting a bit bloody-minded and thinking, “I’m going to carry on” So I did.
I’ve become a bit of an obsessive over-planner and I sometimes catch myself just sort of strangling the light out of everything. I didn’t used to be quite so much like this but I tend to now think through every single eventuality of everything in advance. I think it’s partly to do with Covid restrictions – you start thinking, “We could meet up there but then if the Covid restrictions change then we can do this...” I’ve started to do it about everything. I’ve lost a bit of my ability to go, “Oh well, let’s just see what happens.” I’d quite like to get a bit of that back.
There were lots of times during my TV series where I’d happily write things like: “Kate Winslet rolls around in horse manure” and someone in production actually said to me: “Are you sure? Because you’re actually going to have to do this.” I somehow never connected the two – maybe that was self-preservation.
There was one day, where it was like, “Kate Winslet lies down in a muddy ditch.” You might only see that for about four seconds on screen, but that usually takes about an hour and a half to film. I remember putting my face in a ditch and muttering, “What am I doing?”
I have various nice decorative bowls that just get filled up with stuff, like a hairband or a couple of dead batteries or a screw that fell out of something. And once one bowl of stuff is filled up, I don’t go through that bowl – I start another bowl. I have at least half a dozen in play at the minute. Nobody needs that many dead batteries.
Cluttered, antique-y type hotel rooms. There’s this aesthetic where it’s like, oh, we’ve got this old leather antique hat box that we’re just going to put in the middle of the floor, and there’s an old leather suitcase on top of a wardrobe and an antique phone. I don’t want anything in my peripheral vision and I don’t want anything I’m going to trip up over on my way to the loo in the middle of the night. It just makes you want to go to a Premier Inn!
I used to have genuine panic attacks about spiders. I’ve gone to great efforts to try and train myself out of it. I’ve read lots of online therapy courses about getting over your phobias and things like that. I probably need expert help. I’m trying very hard not to pass the phobia on to my children. I try to be weirdly casual around spiders in front of my family but inside my heart is absolutely beating. I think it’s the hardest acting job I do.
Practically Perfect: Life Lessons from Mary Poppins by Katy Brand is published by HQ on Oct 28, priced at £9.99
Interview by Katie Russell
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