Sometimes, when Steve Barclay is standing in a queue waiting for a plane, he finds people staring at him.
That's when he realises his hands are clasped, his elbows are out, and his lips are puckered and pursed.
He is thinking about his part, as pantomime dame in the upcoming production of Aladdin.
The transformation of this very 'blokey' bloke into the gorgeously grotesque Widow Twankey is something
that requires more than just a few tasteless costumes and a wig. An invitation to be Steve's dresser while he gets into role gives me the opportunity to see how the change takes place. Steve  ( alias Widow Twankey ) is just lathering up for a shave when I arrive. Squat and grey haired, with squashed up features, he could pass for a builder as  he crouches in front of the mirror in his vest and baggy jeans. As he scrapes at the bristles, he tells me the shave has to be close enough to last the day. No dame wants to remove his slap between performances.

The rest of the cast may go out for tea between the matinee and evening shows but the dame is on his own unless he takes off his make - up. That's why some of the pros really make the dressing room their home for the day.

In the old days you would sometimes do three shows, these  days its normally two  shows - a matinee and an evening.Steve has been involved in pantomime since the age of 16, when he made his stage debut at Luton Library Theatre as the wolf in Red Riding Hood. A comedian first and foremost, he played the part in return for a six minute spot out of his wolf's skin. Since then he has worked his way through the repertoire, playing Buttons, and  Wishee Washee, Idle Jack, eventually taking on the role of pantomime dame.

The transformation of this very 'blokey' bloke into the gorgeously grotesque Widow Twankey is something that requires more than just a few tasteless costumes and a wig. An invitation to be Steve's dresser while he gets into role gives me the opportunity to see how the change takes place.

" I’m a bloke in a frock," he says. Its not a drag act. Admittedly there is  an element of camp, but if its too camp it becomes something else, and not traditional pantomime. I’m a man, but I’m wearing a dress. That's the joke. That's how its been since the days of Drury Lane." He hasn't applied any make-up yet, or donned any costume yet, but  Widow Twankey is in the room.
He explains how the characterisation starts at the feet, how he can get into the role by just altering the way he moves.
Demonstrating a frisky little skip, he bustles across the dressing room.

"When I get a script I'm thinking about the laugh I'll get when I move my head like this, "he says demonstrating an elaborate double - take. " The script isn't as important as people think - they are mostly the same it's how you work them that matters."
Putting on the slap is the first part of the physical process that turns Steve into Twankey. A liberal application of  Nivea follows the shave, then grabbing a sponge, he applies ' pancake ' make - up at lightening speed. The result is frighteningly orange.
A stick of eyebrow soap flattens down Steve's bushy male eyebrows, leaving the way clear for

The thick pencil he uses to follow the natural contours of his " rubber" face, giving the dame a permanently surprised look. Clown - style arcs of bright blue fill out the eye sockets, followed by a touch of red for the nose, red apple cheeks, and a couple of red spots either side of the nose - a trick to bring out the brightness of the eyes.
"The best slaps are the quick slaps," he tells me. " The secret is not to overwork it. I've got the whole thing down to about half an hour on a good day."
Steve has also picked up advice from his wife, who taught him about eye make-up hygiene ( he once gave himself styes using old infected eye pencils) and the importance of moisturising.

The costumes are Steve's own, and he takes great pride in them. In some pantos, the dame can have lots of costume changes. Today he is wearing his opening frock', the one in which he first appears and establishes his character. The bobbles on it were hand sewn by his lovely wife Tracy.
Firstly the stripey tights go on invisible to the audience but Steve knows they are there, and that's what matters. On his feet go a lurid pair of hand painted winkle pickers.
Vast bloomers and a float-out skirt follow, with a stupendous bra to create the buxom look essential for the dame.
The wig that completes the look is a surreal affair, made by Steve himself.
Steve has written his own 'Dame song' and has made his own panto props including this year an exploding washing machine!
"Pantomime is our children's initiation into live theatre. That's why you owe it to them to give it your all, and keep the magic alive," says Steve, smoothing his lipstick with a practiced smack of the lips.
"The dressing room gets you in the mood. You can see the lights around the mirrors, you can hear the audience babble through the monitors. That's when you get that tingle. You need to feel that tingle every performance." He casts one final appraising glance in the mirror. “Now its showtime!”