I am in a public profession, so take your pick. It’s all embarrassing.

When I was 19 I worked at a gay bar while I was at drama school in London. One of the guys I worked with was Glaswegian and I learned the dialect from him. The acting teacher at the school said, “Liev, you’ve got the region but you’ve missed the character entirely” because I played Jimmy Boyle in a very camp Glaswegian accent.

In my 20s I was in a show called The Unauthorised Autobiography of Samantha Brown. The actor who played my dad messed up his lines and it made me laugh so hard that I ended up peeing my pants.

Shitting myself in New York last November. I was wearing cream trousers. We were going to see my son Matty and his band, the 1975, at Madison Square Garden, and I was walking through the streets, enjoying the sunshine, pretending I was in some kind of video – throwing my hat into the New York sky like Mary Tyler Moore. I saw a couple of people turn and look at me. Now, although I’m not famous in New York, whenever Matty’s there I do get recognised as his mum, so I’m smiling and waving at them. I went back to the hotel room and bent over to get something out of the suitcase, and my husband said: “Do you realise you’ve shat yourself?”

For bringing positivity to people.

A hand-painted beaded dress from New York. It weighs about 16lb and cost me £4,000, 30 years ago.

Kind, fun and professional.

Like you’ve got no other thought in your head.

We drift off to a beautiful place where we live a better, fuller life than what we’ve left.

I don’t say that I’m perfect but there’s nothing that I deplore.