The Life And Work Of Tuppy Owens

Yesterday afternoon, I attended a book launch at a club called Heaven -  Heaven for people of a certain sexual orientation, but not for me.

Tomorrow will be the eightieth birthday of Tuppy Owens. I bought a signed copy of her memoirs which she co-wrote with Emma Buckett. I get two mentions therein, sort of.

On page 231 is a reference for my obituary of Ted Goodman while on the following page is the catalogue entry for NCROPA (which I wrote) on the website of the Modern Records Centre.

The book also contains a photograph of Owens with Goodman and David Webb. This is a new one on me and I must ask Emma Buckett for a larger copy in due course.

Tuppy Owens in 1993.

Emma is over forty but looks a good deal younger. She is in a wheelchair because she suffers from a terrible condition called Friedreich attaxia. She takes an incredible combination of drugs every day.

Tuppy doesn’t look her age either. I have seen her in the flesh only once before – in the late 80s or early 90s – for literally three or four minutes. We spoke that time but not Sunday. She is suffering from dementia so may not have realised who I am in any case, although she was quite coherent here. She messaged me in 2016, effusing praise for the work Ted and I had done, although having met Avedon Carol, I cannot agree with her claim that Feminists Against Censorship are manhaters.

The memoirs of Tuppy Owens is called The Sex Lady On The Hill and sells for a modest £10. It has no index, which is slightly disappointing, the odd grammatical error, and an unusual method of referencing, but it is an easy read so these minor flaws can be overlooked. It isn’t on Amazon yet but should be soon.

So who is Tuppy Owens? She was born Rosalind Mary Owens on November 12, 1944 into a family in which there was no taboo about sex. At that time, sex was a four letter word for many people. However much we may complain today about censorship, the sexual censorship at that time and for decades afterwards was a wonder to behold. Mere sexual swear words were taboo as demonstrated in dramatic fashion on December 1, 1976 when members of a now well-known and notorious punk band swore profusely on live TV edged on by a drunken presenter.

Although initially destined for a career in environmentalism, she soon switched to working with and for human animals, in especially the field of sex.  Her work with the Sex Maniacs Ball, the Sexual Freedom Coalition and the Erotic Awards may sound frivolous, but these activities tend to overshadow something that is anything but.

Her magnum opus is an organisation she founded in 1979 that is broadly speaking a support network for the disabled – disabled in the broadest sense of the word: The Outsiders Club which became a charity, The Outsiders Trust, two years later. Unlike many charities, it operates on a shoestring and has no paid staff. According to papers filed with the Charity Commission, last year it had an income of £17, 373 and spent only £6,060.   

As an obvious extrovert she is far from an outsider herself, although she has never married and is childless, though frankly I’m not sure having three abortions is anything to boast about.

Personal flaws aside, she is and will remain an important figure in breaking down taboos about sex, especially on the part of the disabled, who are just as entitled to enjoy the sins of the flesh as everyone else.