As a teenager my passions were art, art, art, art and art. It started at a young age. I could always draw and it was great to have a talent. As a kid you have dreams and you’re supposed to want to be a footballer or whatever, but at 16 you’re scared of the future. A lot of people that age are unsure but curious. I wasn’t encouraged to do art, but it was something I wanted and needed to do. I’m lucky I followed my instincts because a lot of people were thrown off course. I somehow, miraculously – and I do say miraculously – followed my instincts.
I don’t admire my younger self for following his path. I just think of the other people that could have gone on a similar path but didn’t. I was an exception because of hard-headedness and luck. Or hard-headedness and talent. My hard-headedness and a certain innate talent to draw made that luck.
I came from a situation in which equality wasn’t there and found my way to the other side of the minefield. I look back and see what might have been and what occurred through that journey to get to the other side. I mean, I’m not even there yet, to be honest. It is well documented how people were split into different groups at my school [at 13, McQueen was placed in the third tier of students – seen as destined, he says, for “manual labour”]. To say certain people are better than other people? The whole idea of having the worst teachers given to the students that needed the best teachers? Everything about my career was shaped by my childhood – inequality and the gloominess of unfair society was everywhere.
I never saw any people who looked like me who were artists. When I discovered Jean-Michel Basquiat I was grateful to discover someone like that. But at the time, even he wasn’t taken seriously. I would tell my younger self to follow your instincts and go for it. There’s so much trying to pull you down, even gravity sometimes. You have to be tenacious and forceful if necessary.
I got a constant stream of information, interest and fascination through BBC television and radio. When I was 17 The Singing Detective came on. It was so imaginative and triggered my curiosity about moving images. It was one of the first times something so out there came into the mainstream. Television, especially the BBC, was very important to me.
I learned about London through markets. Every Saturday I’d miss Football Focus and have to go to some market with my mother – always because a friend would tell her where you could buy this or that a bit cheaper. I grew up in Shepherd’s Bush, but would go from West London to East London, North London, South London and into town. I remember the traders down in Forest Gate, and Berwick Street market had lots of interesting tailors. One geezer did celebrities’ suits, so a lot of women bought material from that shop. I won’t say I was my mother’s donkey, but she needed someone to hold the bags. That’s what I was: “Hold the bag, hold it good!” But it was amazing and that is how I got to know London. She was absolutely wonderful, my mum.