‘Oh, I love him!’ I piped up cheerfully. ‘I love savoury rice and this man was a life-saver at university. One microwave, one sachet and you had a meal in just two minutes!’ My dad looked at me in such disgust you’d have thought I’d just smeared shit all over the living-room walls. ‘Why are you all judging my love of Uncle Ben?’ I asked.
‘Because,’ bellowed my dad, ‘it isn’t Uncle Ben the rice man, it’s the great Nelson Mandela!’
I apologise profusely to the late, great Mr Mandela. I’ve since watched at least fifty hours’ worth of documentaries and YouTube videos on him and he is an amazing legend of a man.
Despite that slight slip-up, and much to my confusion, the next day I got a call from Studio Lambert telling me they want the Moffatts to be the new family on the third series of Gogglebox. Oh, and we would need to start filming on Monday, which was just two days away. Obviously we never actually planned to film and be on the television in real life and we were all baffled by the situation. It was actually my dad who was the most open to it. He just kept saying, ‘Well, what’s the worst that can happen?’ Famous last words.
If you have flicked over to Gogglebox in your time and seen me and my family, you may already have some of your favourite moments. If not, you are probably reading this like, ‘What the hell is Gogglebox?’ So the following highlights will give you an understanding of some of the shit me and my family talk about in the comfort of our front room.
• The age-old argument for DC Comic fans: Batman or Superman, who is the best? I voted Batman. ‘Superman looks exactly the same when he puts his glasses on and combs his hair … And everyone acts like it’s someone else. I don’t buy it. Batman has a proper disguise.’
• On that incident with Madonna nearly going arse over tit on stage at the Brits because one of the dancers stood on her cape: ‘Have you been in an accident at work? Where there’s a blame there’s a claim!’ (She should have got a good payout for that.)
• Me and my mam telling my dad to try these new nuts I’d just bought. We forgot to mention they were wasabi nuts and my dad, whose eyes are bigger than his belly, downed a fistful of hot nuts. (I’ve just realised how wrong that sounds when I say it out loud.) His eyes looked like someone had poured acid in them, his forehead started to sweat profusely and I am pretty sure at one point his nose nearly started bleeding.
• On Jeremy Corbyn being elected Labour leader. At the time, I hadn’t actually heard his policies, I simply did what we all do and judged him on face value alone. ‘He looks more like the next Doctor Who than the next prime minister, if I’m honest,’ I said. But don’t worry, I also have an opinion on Theresa May, that opinion being that it’s a misfortune for her to have the same name as the hair product ‘TRESemmé’. It must make hair appointments very confusing.
• As a family discussing the stress of results day for GCSE students: my advice was not to worry. After all, ‘In the number one hit song “Give Me Everything”, Pitbull rhymed “Kodak” with “Kodak” and look at him, he is a multi-millionaire.’
• The iconic scene in James Bond when ‘M’ dies. My logical thinking: ‘Well, “N” can just take over.’ I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about – in alphabetical terms they had at least thirteen other agents left.
• On Martin Freeman doing a political video for the Labour Party ahead of the 2015 general election. My response? ‘I’m not taking political advice from a fucking Hobbit.’ (Now at the time of filming I never thought I would actually get to meet any of the people I was slagging off every Friday night. I had the safety net of my sofa, my parents and my own front room. I didn’t have this safety net when I actually met Martin Freeman at Jonathan Ross’s Halloween party. Not that I think Martin – who played one of my favourite characters from a TV show ever in The Office – actually watches Gogglebox, but you just never know. So I said hello and smiled very politely whilst power-walking past him.)
• And finally, everyone can agree with me here, when I watch The Great British Bake Off I get that into it I start really feeling like I know the contestants. ‘I care more about some of these people than some of my own family by the end of it,’ I said.
Now all of this was said whilst having a television crew in the house. Yes, I’m going to let you into a little secret, as another question I’m always asked is ‘How does Gogglebox work?’ Contrary to belief, we don’t just switch a camera on and then start watching the TV. Unfortunately, it’s a little bit more complex than that. For the past two years of us filming we would have two cameras, lights and a crew of normally five or six people in our dining room. Our favourite and a guy who has been there from the start is Matt, a sound technician from Oxford. Excuse the pun but he genuinely is a sound guy. He made us laugh with his quick wit, sarcasm and his love of northern chicken kebabs.
There was a time when me and my family had one of those rare moments in life where we were reduced to being speechless and that’s thanks to one of the Gogglebox crew. We all just burst into a fit of laughter, staring at each other in disbelief. It was a moment off screen that I want to share with you all. We do laugh about it now but it is the most ‘northernist’ (definition: northernly racist) thing that’s ever happened to us. As we don’t have time to make tea or go and pop over to Asda or Sainsbury’s halfway through an episode of Downton Abbey to get some nibbles, a kind member of the crew, in this case Karen, would pop out and get us something to eat.
I discussed the food situation with my mam. ‘What should we get, Mam? I’ve had no tea. I mean Dad’s saying he’s not hungry, but he will be when he sees us eating so let’s get a few bits.’
My mam agreed and turned to Karen. ‘Karen, can we just get some bits to nibble on, like humous, crackers, even a bit of cheese if there is some, please? Thanks so much.’
The episode of Downton Abbey had finished (the one where Lord Grantham projectile vomits all over the place like a scene from Saw) and the door went. Yes, it was Karen, I could hear the rustling of the carrier bag. As we walked into the kitchen, stomachs rumbling all ready for our tea (northern for ‘dinner’), we could not believe our eyes.
‘I couldn’t quite remember what you asked for so I just got some bits I assumed you would like,’ announced Karen. There laid out on the table were four sausage rolls, a packet of Scotch eggs, pease pudding and a massive pork pie. She may as well have thrown a few stotties and a crate of Newcastle Brown Ale in for luck. I mean if we were Irish would she have just assumed we wanted four jacket potatoes and a tin of Guinness each?
To be fair, if that happened to another family they probably wouldn’t find it funny. But as a family with a warped sense of humour we often find that we are the only ones laughing. In fact, we often wouldn’t make the cut of the show because of our inappropriate laughter. I remember when we all had to watch Titanic and the crew were like, ‘You are not going to make the cut, stop giggling.’ It is the scene where Rose is sprawled out, spread-eagled on the huge floating door and Jack is there, freezing his tits off with blue lips, God bless him. We couldn’t stop laughing at the fact it was so obvious he could have fitted on the door with her. I get that he had to die as that was the plot but if the dude’s got to sink at least make it believable and have her lying on a tiny door, maybe a wardrobe door.
Also if it’s something that is meant to be serious like a documentary, me and my family just somehow completely miss the point and find something inappropriate about it. I remember we watched this programme about this man who loves watches and clocks. He has hundreds of clocks in his house. It was meant to be a really serious piece of television, and my dad was chatting about the timepieces and the mechanics of a watch and stuff, while my mam and I were just giggling the whole way through whilst trying to keep our eyes open. ‘Jesus Christ, who has over a hundred clocks in one house?’ my mam gasped.
‘What happens when it strikes midnight in his house? It’s going to be like Mary Poppins. His whole house is going to shake.’
Every tim
e he would pick up a clock and touch it, I’d be like, ‘Look at him stroking that clock!’
My mam would be crying with laughter. ‘Behave!’
‘Mam, the future, the present and the past walked into a bar. Things got a little tense.’
Meanwhile, the whole of mine and me mother’s conversation would be going right over my dad’s head.
Now it was always that way, me and my mam versus my dad, but then Ava decided she also wanted to film and it was then Mam, Dad and Ava versus me. ‘What you watching for tonight’s Gogglebox, Scar?’ Ava asked one day with a cheeky grin. I knew straight away (it’s the sisterly bond) just what she was thinking.
‘Yay, you want to film with us, don’t you?’ I questioned. I was so excited. Ava is literally the funniest human being I know (despite still being at primary school); her wit and sarcasm is on point. She is like the lovechild of Stephen Fry and Ricky Gervais. I couldn’t wait to film with her. As she was only eight when we started filming we gave her the option of whether she wanted to be involved each time. We didn’t freeze her and defrost her when needed like they do with the children in soaps, she simply hung out with the film crew in the dining room or watched a movie, then an hour into filming it would be her bedtime.
‘As long as you don’t show me up by saying something stupid, Scar, I will do Gogglebox,’ Ava replied. I agreed reluctantly that I wouldn’t wind her up.
We started filming with a news item all about added sugar. Now I was honest and I openly admitted, ‘I genuinely thought that “no added sugar” meant that there was like not a lot of sugar in the food at all.’ I had the usual reaction of defeated sighs and an eye roll from my mam and dad before Ava kindly showed me up in front of the UK by delivering this perfect response: ‘Scarlett, I’m a nine-year-old and even I know that, and you’re twenty-five. Sort it out.’
Understandably, I didn’t comment back or try and outdo her on her sassy comeback, I did the only thing I could do – accept defeat from a nine-year-old.
But it’s stuff like nine-year-olds out-sassing sisters that makes the show so real. I feel the reason why Gogglebox got really popular was because it was reflecting the experiences of the people who were watching it. People were saying, ‘They are just like us. They are watching telly on their sofas and commenting on it, just like we do.’
But what’s lovely is because the show is so relatable, everyone who sees us in real life knows we are just normal approachable people. It’s not like if you see someone like, say, Jeremy Clarkson on the street – that could be quite intimidating. We are just normal, average people. People feel like they know you because every Friday night we invite the audience into our home. Once Gogglebox started to get popular, the attention we got in the street really ramped up. I would have to set off fifteen minutes earlier to get places. I couldn’t even go to Asda really. It’s weird because essentially it is just a show where we are watching the TV but it’s so flattering and lovely that people want to chat to me and other people on the show. Everybody knows a character in Gogglebox. So a lot of people say, ‘Leon is like my grandad’ or ‘He’s like my grandad’s friend.’
Leon and June are sweet, aren’t they? I loved Steph and Dom too. I was lucky enough to get to meet them. They lived up to expectations! They haven’t even been in the show for about four series, but they are so memorable because of their characters. They were super friendly, smelt how I thought they would (of rich mahogany and Creed cologne) and were about to go to the pub for a bottle of champers. But my favourites have to be the Siddiquis. They are by far my favourite family. They are so quick-witted. I think they are really underrated; they should be given their own show.
I still watch Gogglebox now even though we are not on as a family any more. People always ask, ‘Do you miss Gogglebox?’ The answer to that is, ‘How can we miss something we still do?’ We still all watch television together, we still laugh, joke and cry at the TV as a family, just the difference being nobody gets to watch us doing it any more. Basically, when I got asked to do I’m a Celebrity, the Gogglebox people gave me an ultimatum: ‘It’s either Gogglebox or the jungle.’ To be honest it wasn’t a tough decision to make; my family wanted me to go for the jungle and I just knew it was too much of an experience to miss. My family, the TV and our couch were always going to be there, the chance to go in the Outback with a bunch of celebrities wasn’t.
Honestly, I loved having a job where I got to talk non-stop for several hours whilst watching the TV. Apart from the dry mouth. What I don’t miss – it was the difficult part of Gogglebox – was when we had to watch a show we loved, because you didn’t want to chat, you just wanted to watch and enjoy it.
We also had to watch a hell of a lot of shite, mind. But all those agonisingly boring documentaries were worth it when I would read my tweets and see that people had made comments about being cheered up after watching Gogglebox, or the fact that people would take the time out to send me letters. The greatest letter I ever received was from a lovely lady who was in hospital. She was having radiotherapy. She could only have one person in the room with her at a time, and they had to stand in the corner. So she couldn’t watch telly with anyone. She was really close with her mam and dad, and she said to me that when she’d watch Gogglebox, she’d almost feel as if she was home and having that one bit of time where she was with her family. She’d put herself in my position and pretend that she was at home. I just think that’s so lovely. The woman is all right now. She’s in remission, which I’m so pleased to hear.
I think it’s just amazing that people have the power to do that without even knowing it. You’re just sat at home filming or in a studio filming and you’re helping someone through bad times. I’ve had other letters where people have said, ‘You helped me last Friday, I was so upset, I’ve just switched on Gogglebox and in that hour I just laughed and smiled.’ It’s not something I would have ever expected. When you start on TV, you don’t even think that you’re going to have that effect on people, but it’s so rewarding. I always wanted a job where I could help make people smile.
I love all the letters and tweets and Insta posts I receive. I can’t believe people take the time out to be so sweet. I also love a good natter with a randomer on the street. Sometimes when I meet people they are quite shocked by the fact I’m not this super loud, confident young girl. I often get ‘Eeeh, aren’t you quiet?’ See it depends what day you catch me on. Sometimes I have days where I am the Scarlett Moffatt I love; other days I am Scarlett Moffatt struggling.
Now I don’t quite know how to word this and I know that when you read it you’re going to be like, where the hell did this pop up from? But that’s the thing with mental health issues, they do just pop up when you least expect them. So now I’m going to discuss something I have never openly spoken about before because I feel ready to say it out loud. I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks.
Since filming Gogglebox I had been accidentally put into the limelight. And for the first time in a long time, well, since my Bell’s palsy, I felt a feeling resurface. I felt out of control. I was always slightly worried when I filmed anything in case I was going to offend someone with what I said and it did have me on edge sometimes. Even though I don’t purposefully ever mean to say anything bad, I’m only human and you can’t please all of the people all of the time. So I guess I started noticing in myself that I was a lot more nervous around that time, a year into Gogglebox. I knew I had a problem when I started getting really agitated by silly things, like I could only have the music volume in the car on an even number otherwise I would worry that something bad was going to happen. I would imagine us crashing into a tree if the volume was at number thirteen.
Saying it out loud and writing this, I realise it does sound over the top but brains are very strange and unique things. I still now will write a tweet and if it doesn’t get ten ‘likes’ in the space of five minutes I will have to delete it because I worry that I’ve written the wrong thing.
I worry that peop
le are going to hate me if I don’t give them 110 per cent. So if people do come up to me in the middle of the street and chat, even if I have somewhere to be I will be late for the meeting so I don’t have to cut the conversation short. I’ve even missed a couple of trains because I get anxious thinking that if I say, ‘Sorry I’ve got to go,’ they will then tell everybody that I’m a dickhead.
I have days where I am feeling crappy and feeling like I’m having a bloated day or a bad hair day and I have to force myself to go outside. Sometimes I don’t even step outside because I’m scared I’ll get photographed and I worry that the papers are going to start slagging my weight off or the way I look. Most weeks during Gogglebox I would walk to my front door, cry, then walk back into the living room. I would give myself a pep talk, walk to the front door again, grab the handle, cry again and then walk back into the living room. Some days after nine or ten goes I would make it outside. But some days my head demons would get the better of me and I would stay indoors all day.
Now I knew that it wasn’t right that I felt like this, but I felt like I was the only one in this situation and I was embarrassed; how could I speak about this to anybody? How could I tell someone that I worried that much over mundane things or that I sometimes felt like I was having an out-of-body experience? How could I say to my mam and dad, ‘I have to walk up the stairs toe, heel or just walk up every other step otherwise I worry that one of my family members is going to die’? I would say to myself, ‘Listen to yourself, Scarlett.’ So I didn’t tell anyone for over a year, I just kept these head demons to myself, listening to them and dealing with them by myself.
One night I decided to go out to the local with a few of the girls. Nights out – something that I loved at university – were now the bane of my life. I looked forward to people bailing on plans because I would just get so anxious about what to wear, who was going to be there, if there was going to be any trouble. But I knew I couldn’t live my life like that. So we went out and some rough girl decided to start shouting ‘Gogglebox!’ at me at the top of her lungs. She then proceeded to dance around me, being very intimidating. ‘I am just going to the toilet,’ I remember saying to my friend Billie. But I didn’t, I just got a taxi home. I stayed all night at home, lying in bed crying, worrying if that girl knew where I lived, if that was just a warning of what was to come. I didn’t even dare go to Asda the next day with my mam. I felt really dizzy and knew I could not live my life like this.
Me Life Story Page 12
