Lizzi Von DooLittle (vondoolittle) wrote,
Lizzi Von DooLittle

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My Parents Are Aliens!

Want to know where I 'get it from'?

My parents.

They're not *normal*.

They're both music teachers, (met at Trinity College, London) Mum teaches flute and piano, Dad teaches piano, and music in schools, plays the church organ etc etc...

Growing up, they used to let me watch The Young Ones, Spitting Image and Monty Python...Mother always joked that Dad was the 'naked organist'...


As a young girl I used to sit at the Organ next to him at Church, turn the pages on his music and pull out the stops. Thankfully, he couldn't do this naked lolol!! But often managed to work 'Happy Birthday' into Trumpet Voluntaries and whatnot for various church members, wore a First World War flight helmet to play The Dambusters March and a cowboy hat when we had visitors from a 'twinned' church in Texas...

My earliest musical memories with my Mother were performances of 'West Side Story' in the Great Barn at Buckland Abbey. I was about 5 or so, perhaps younger, and was apparently 'in love with the man in the pink T-shirt'. Hmmm... I remember a great big owl flew across the roof of the barn during a performance one night, and I'd sit with the old ladies in the orchestra and call them all 'Grandma'.

Dad was head of music at Plymouth College Preparatory School for 28 years, and when I was little I used to go to his school concerts at least twice every year...

(In the Summer holidays, if Mother was busy, I'd go to school with Dad and sit in lessons with the boys, or go in their art lessons instead; caused quite a stir!)

Because it was a private boy's school, they always used to perform Gilbert and Sullivan; and have young boys in makeup playing/singing all the female parts...

In the year that my father left the Prep they put on a staff cabaret show, with old time music hall compere etc. Mum and two other teachers dressed up as school girls and performed 'Three Little Maids from School'... My father, on the other hand, did a 'Hinge and Bracket' routine with another teacher (I think it was with Peter Raymond(Raving) Jones: the science teacher he used to go sailing with).

Dr. Evadne Hinge and Dame Hilda Bracket
(George Logan and Patrick Fyffe)

Hinge and Bracket is an old cabaret show from the late 70's, consisting of two middle aged men in drag, being eccentric old ladies and singing Noel Coward and stuff with string orchestras. Dad wore a pair of fishnets, my long black gloves, dark green dress, wig, his glasses and makeup... I have photos of him dressed up in makeup somewhere and the show is on video too lol!!

He was also part-time conductor and accompanist for Plymouth Philharmonic Choir; I used to go up and sing with them after Girl's Brigade finished on Friday nights - usually Bartok or Handel's Messiah or some such - then sit in the Church while Dad did organ practice for an hour after that...

Mother used to have me singing Arias in Latin before I went to school, my grandfather used to sing me 'Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud'...

My father used to take me sailing and out in the car all round Sussex with my Aunt Diana to paint...

Both used to encourage my dressing up and music-making: one time, they came home from shopping and found me at the top of the stairs dressed up as a dandified man!

Hat, brown curly wig, cane, shirt, waistcoat, jacket, trousers...moustache pencilled on. Went through a 'dress like Charlie Chaplin' obsession one summer too...and they had to take me shopping in various costumes until I was about 14, when I went 'metaller' then 'gothic' eventually. My wardrobe is still more a 'dressing up box' than anything else...

All in all, I've not had a very practical upbringing lol!! I'm crap at maths, incapable of keeping plants alive or managing finances... I always want to dress up in silly costumes and behave like a decadent artiste!

They have a lot to answer for!!


I must be ill...I'm actually tidying my living room and catching up on laundry!!

Really, I've been shamed into doing it by not being able to let visitors in there on Saturday night - and I'd lost my Whitby ticket under the piles of paper, magazines and stuff...



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