What do you wear around the house?
I can, if not reminded, spend the day in my dressing-gown answering emails and doing jobs and forget that I’m looking like a dog’s dinner until I open the door to my gorgeous postman, who gives a little wince. But I never look the same two days running. Today, I look quite good: I’ve got a red wool dress on and I’ve actually put a comb through my hair.
Train or car?
I love trains. There is something incredibly soothing about being on a train. I would happily never get off. My plan for my retirement, if that ever happens, are to do some of the long train journeys: the Trans-Siberian, the one across America. And Indian trains are just waiting for me – I’d even give the roof a go. How cool would that be?
Twitter. Yes, no or what?
Absolutely not. Why would you want to tell people trivial details?
What was the last public complaint or protest that you made?
My children and I are going on one of the demos against student fees. I would not be doing what I do today were it not for the fact that I got a discretionary grant from my local education authority because I wouldn’t have been allowed by my parents to saddle myself with debt.
When did you last send a text message?
Two minutes ago, to tell my husband what week he needed to get off from work this time next year.
What did turning 50 mean for you?
It was when I felt fittest and at my most fabulous. I’d just done the first Strictly Come Dancing and Who Do You Think You Are? on television. One programme showed me the potential I didn’t realise I had, and the other showed me where I’d come from. So I’ve found my fifties to be a time of enormous discovery. I’m so looking forward to being 60. Getting older, you just appreciate everything so much more: nature and the seasons and the differences between people.
Can you still remember the lyrics of the first record you bought?
Yes, it was Bridge over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel: "When you’re weary, feeling small/When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all..." Those lyrics remind me now of my kids. And one of my most exciting moments... On Sundays, in the theatre, other acts come in and use your dressing room. When I was doing The Sound of Music, mine looked like the Mother Abbess’s inner sanctum. On the Monday, there was a letter thanking me, saying, "It is one of the most interesting dressing-rooms I have ever had the privilege of sharing. Yours most sincerely, Art Garfunkel." Be still my beating heart! He’d actually sat in my chair – and possibly used my mascara.
Which decade are you most nostalgic for?
The 1970s. You had those enormous platform heels, and Marc Bolan, who was gorgeous. And I loved the Sex Pistols. It was an explosive era creatively and it was anarchic. And I kind of missed it because I was so obsessed with being an opera singer and I was desperate to conform. I’d like to re-live that time so I could get in touch with my true nature sooner and be the slightly more radical opera singer that, hopefully, I am today.
Name two people from the past that you’d like to sit next to at dinner?
Marc Bolan, because I’d love to talk to him about the 1970s. And Barbara Castle, because my other great passion is politics. She was fundamental to the Labour Party of my childhood, and she’d have an amazing overview.
What was your worst telling-off for?
It was when I was a very broke student. In those days, you could get on the tube without a ticket and pretend you’d only come a couple of stops. I got off at Warren Street station and said I’d come from Mornington Crescent. The man said it was closed that day, so I was caught out. He gave me the biggest dressing down of my life and I was so ashamed that, apart from speeding fines, I’ve never done anything remotely dishonest. Whenever I go to Warren Street now, I go all hot and cold.
When was your first kiss and who with?
My first kiss was when I was 12 and my parents were throwing a party. I was sitting up in bed in my brushed-nylon nightie and, whenever anybody came up to the loo, I would "Coo-ee!" them. My dad had been very generous with the homemade wine – it was lethal – and this young man came up and suddenly gave me the most fabulous kiss. Then he got up and went. I just thought, "Oh my God, I can’t wait to grow up!".
What did your parents teach you?
To be ambitious. My parents were extraordinary, and still are, because they both worked on the railways and then decided to "better themselves". My father swotted in his signal-box, went to teacher-training college and became a headmaster. And my mother became head of music in a middle school. And that was what inspired me to become a singer.
Who would you like to say sorry to?
My first husband.
How do you relax?
Not sure I do. I’m very driven. But I do like to have an hour to myself when everybody’s in bed and the house is quiet. Then I often find myself playing patience on the computer. I find that very relaxing.
What is your longest friendship?
With my singing teacher, Joy Mammen. I’ve known her for over 30 years. I have singing lessons with her every week and I will do forever because I’m yet to make my best sound.
In the past ten years, have you exercised at all?
I haven’t exercised for the past three years, I must admit. My exercise has diminished as technology has improved. I used to think a gigabyte was something that the hamster gave me, then my mum, who’s nearly 80, decided to go on a computer-training course. So I had to get onboard as well. I used to swim and walk and dance, and I’m not doing any of those things now. It’s bad, so I plan to redress the balance.
Which items do you collect?
Jugs. There’s something very tactile about them and I love the noise they make when they pour. If I’m in a junk shop, I’m just drawn to them. It’s obviously telling me something about my psyche. Maybe it’s because I’ve got a big bust!
Sand or snow?
Preferably both. I love skiing and I love snorkelling. So my ideal holiday would be on a beach with a very long cable car that would take me straight up to the mountains. I don’t get enough holidays. I’ll have to have a word with the husband.
What was your childhood nickname and do you still have it?
"Gobby" Garrett, because I never stopped talking. I probably still have it behind my back. English National Opera chorus were very fond of saying things like: "Lesley Garrett, never knowingly upstaged".
What would be your preferred epitaph?
A family saying we have when things go wrong: "spit on your hands and take a fresh hold". I feel blessed that I came from the background that I do in South Yorkshire. It was unashamedly working class but my family was unbelievably resourceful. When we finally got a bathroom, my dad turned the tin bath into a sidecar on his motorbike and my sisters and I would ride grandly around. Don’t talk to me about recycling!
VERDICT: Gobby (if we may) . . . anyone who’s planning a retirement travelling on the roof of an Indian train is clearly possessed of an indomitable youthful spirit. You can therefore remain in your favourite decade, with an eternal age of 25.
An Evening with Lesley Garrett is now on tour until July 8, 2011. See www.lesleygarrett.co.uk for details.
This article was first published in the April 2011 edition of Saga Magazine.