Sunday 2 March 1975
‘Get dressed. Have Bath. Talk to man who thinks we are continental! Swiss! go to Sedbergh. very tidy. Mum gets seat. I get Dad. I thought he might stay. I should be in a suit. B is confirmed. I spend most of the service thinking how stupid God is, and then degrading to kneel to the Bishop. Come home very quick. Go to school. Say I am agnostic. For the last two weeks I think of God more now. Drop music as I am bored of school.’
KAI: This entry is packed with intriguing details—your encounter with a man who thought you were Swiss, your thoughts on religion and confirmation, and your decision to drop music. Here are some prompts to help you draw out more from these memories:
The Swiss Mistake – What do you remember about the man who thought you were continental? Did your accent, mannerisms, or something else lead to his assumption? How did you and your family respond?
Returning to Sedbergh, you note that it was “very tidy.” Was this an unusual state for the school? Were you returning from half-term or a weekend away? How did you feel about going back?
Your Parents at the Service – Your mother gets a seat, and you sit with your father. Did this seating arrangement matter to you? You mention thinking your father might stay—was this something you hoped for, or were you just uncertain about his plans?
Confirmation and Religion – You seem to have strong feelings about the confirmation service—finding it degrading to kneel and questioning God. Was this a moment of realisation, or had these thoughts been brewing for a while? What do you recall about the Bishop and the service itself?
Agnosticism and Faith – You say you told someone you were agnostic and that you’d been thinking about God more in the last two weeks. What triggered this? Were you wrestling with doubt, feeling rebellious, or trying to understand everything?
Dropping Music – Was this a formal decision, or just how you felt that day? You say you were “bored of school”—was this boredom specific to music, or did it reflect a broader feeling about school life at that moment?
You could also reflect on the emotional tone—was this a day of frustration, defiance, or just passing observations? It seems like a moment when your beliefs and attitudes were shifting. Was it a lasting change or just part of the ebb and flow of adolescence?
JV: It feels like the beginning of a shift from prep school to secondary school, leaving younger childhood behind. I had the sense that I wanted to make my own decisions about things. I don’t feel like I ever believed in God, instead I’d gone along with its practices as part of the community I was born in to. The tipping point came a year or two later when I was faced with confirmation and rejected it out of hand as I couldn’t rationalise the religious guidance we were getting or the behaviour of other boys towards planned drinking during the retreat and confirmation presents they were expecting.
KAI: That makes a lot of sense—it sounds like this moment in early 1975 was part of a gradual but inevitable shift rather than a sudden rejection of belief. You were beginning to assert your independence, questioning the expectations placed upon you, and recognising the dissonance between religious teaching and the behavior of your peers.
Interestingly, you describe going along with religious practice as part of the community you were born into—almost as if it were just another aspect of school routine, like wearing the uniform or following meal times. Do you recall when you first began questioning it internally? Was it the rituals, the language, the sermons, or simply how others treated religion that felt off to you?
Your later rejection of confirmation sounds like a defining moment. The contrast between the supposed solemnity of the event and how some boys saw it as an excuse for drinking and receiving gifts must have seemed hollow. Did you feel isolated in your decision, or did others around you share your doubts?
This period also marked a broader shift in how you viewed authority and institutional traditions. Was questioning religion part of a larger pattern of questioning other aspects of school life? Were there other moments around this time when you started seeing things differently—whether in school rules, relationships with teachers, or social expectations?
Your decision to drop music today also ties into this shift. Could it have been another small act of self-determination—choosing to step away from something imposed on you rather than something you actively enjoyed?
JV: Religion was only a school thing.
KAI: That’s an important distinction—if religion was only a school thing, then it likely felt more like an obligation than a deeply personal belief system. Was it treated with genuine reverence at school or just another routine, like morning assembly or prep?
Did your family practice religion at home, or was it largely absent outside school? If it wasn’t part of your home life, that might explain why it felt easier to step away from it as you grew older and began making more of your own decisions.
You mention feeling you wanted to make your own choices—was this solely about religion, or were you beginning to assert your independence in other areas as well? At 13, you were on the brink of moving to secondary school, and it seems you were starting to see the structures around you in a new light. Did this realisation extend to other aspects of school life—rules, expectations, traditions—that you had previously merely accepted?
JV: Adultery, my parents’ separation and divorce. My parents were growing up too!
KAI: That’s a powerful realisation—viewing your parents not as unchanging figures of authority but as individuals who were also navigating their challenges. Their separation and divorce must have provided a significant backdrop to your developing sense of independence and your questioning of structures such as religion.
Did their breakup influence how you viewed authority in general? If the institution of marriage—something meant to be stable—could fracture, did that make other institutions, like religion or school rules, seem less absolute?
You mentioned that religion was only a school thing. Was it something your parents expected you to follow, or was it just part of the package of boarding school life? If their world was shifting, did it make it easier—or perhaps even necessary—for you to start making your own choices?
You were navigating two major transitions at once: your parents redefining their lives and your move from prep school to secondary school. Do you remember if you consciously linked the two at the time, or is that something you see more clearly now?
JV: The idea that our family might be Swiss sounds odd. Maybe we had this slightly continental feel, born more of my mother’s taste reflected in how we dressed. We were a tad cosmopolitan, Hippies with cash! And we didn’t speak with an accent, or an accent that hinted at something not entirely ‘received pronunciation’.
KAI: That’s a fascinating description—Hippies with cash! It suggests a blend of free-spiritedness with a certain level of privilege, perhaps unconventional but still refined in taste and appearance. Your mother’s influence on style and presentation must have significantly influenced how others perceived you.
Do you recall how you dressed at the time? Were there particular choices—scarves, coats, shoes—that might have given a more ‘continental’ impression? Was it about colors, fabrics, or a certain effortless elegance?
And the accent—if it wasn’t entirely received pronunciation but not quite distinctly regional either, do you think it was just subtly different enough to make people second-guess where you were from? Did you ever find yourself adjusting your speech depending on the company you were in?
It’s also interesting how small moments, like this mistaken assumption of being Swiss, can highlight something bigger about identity and belonging. Did you feel at home in the culture around you, or was there always a slight sense of being on the fringes—of not entirely fitting into the expected mold?
JV. Terence Conran influenced my artist, art teacher, art historian, mother, and Laura Ashley.
KAI: That makes sense—Terence Conran’s modern yet practical design aesthetic, combined with Laura Ashley’s romantic, patterned textiles, would have created a distinctive, refined yet relaxed atmosphere. Your mother’s artistic sensibilities likely made your home and personal style stand out, even subtly.
Did this influence extend beyond clothing into how your home was decorated? Was there a mix of clean, functional modernism with softer, more nostalgic elements? And did you feel conscious of this difference in style compared to your peers, or was it just part of the background of your upbringing?
It also makes me wonder if your mother’s aesthetic choices shaped your preferences in design, clothing, or even how you see spaces and objects today.
On religion.
I upset the Vicar of Ovingham, who was invigilating the common entrance exam, when I told him, after the Scripture paper, that it was ‘all just stories,’ history bowdlerised. That Jesus had existed, but god or gods did not, except in our minds.
I felt I was just beginning to hone my skills, which would later exhaust Jehovah’s Witnesses if they had the temerity to knock on our door. After a few cruel exchanges, in which I hoped I converted them to atheism, or agnosticism at best, I’d be more blunt and state from the start that I was a passionate believer in no religion or god or gods in any shape or form. I would argue for no longer than 27 minutes and 30 seconds, looking at my watch for dramatic effect and to set the timer. Starting… by which point the leading Jehovah’s Witness, invariably male, would turn his back while she handed me a leaflet with a clichéd watercolour of Jesus healing the sick and mentioned something about our lovely garden— which I had long abandoned to a rewilded and overrun haven for wildlife.
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