Irma is one of the leading authors coming to the Island’s inaugural literary festival, Connections: Jersey Festival of Words 2015, at which she will be discussing her memoirs.
A journalist and writer, she has also been the professional agony aunt at Cosmopolitan magazine for the last 43 years and has only recently put down her problem-solving pen.
‘I stopped because Cosmo, like most magazines, is mainly online now and the communication with the reader is very different,’ said Irma.
‘It’s all by emails nowadays, and that’s not the same – they have no patina. In the old days the colour of ink, the underlining, the stationery and the fact that they were sometimes tear-stained – all of those were clues. I’m not being mystical or airy-fairy, but I got to be quite a graphologist after I’d read a few million letters!’
‘The letters were frequently long, and you’d be amazed how often at the end of it a young woman would say, you don’t need to answer this, I see it so much clearer now!
‘I often recommend that people do that – put away the machines and take out a pen and write it all down. Write down what you’re thinking and it’s amazing how sometimes it works out.’
Irma, who was born in New Jersey in 1935, the oldest of nine children, was a true child of the 60s, growing up in Greenwich Village and graduating from Columbia University – before becoming a waitress for two years. It was then that she set off on her vagabond years, travelling around Europe and eventually settling in London.
‘I left America and went to live in Paris because I was in love with the bohemian life there,’ she said. ‘I’d gone to Paris before on a school holiday – much to my parents’ disapproval. I was teaching English at the Berlitz School and being bohemian as much as one could be.’
Times were hard and money was tight, but to Irma it was beautiful. Even in Paris, however, she stood out from the crowd with her alternative lifestyle.
‘I was one of the people who wore jeans way before it was fashionable. When I started wearing them, you could only buy them in men’s shops. It was considered very outré, very bohemian.
‘I also remember when a Parisian woman stopped in front of me when I was wearing a black coat. She slammed her foot down on the pavement and said, “Black is not worn during the day!” And I thought, I’m not sure I want to live here any more. Paris was like a lot of first loves – a bit of a disappointment in the long run.’
Later, having lived on a 12-metre yacht and sailed the Med and beyond, Irma parted company with her lover and found herself in London’s Soho.
‘I was so surprised to find a bohemian area in London,’ she said. ‘I got work with a PR company, one of whose clients was Paul Raymond. I didn’t know who he was, but oh my goodness did I find out! Paul wanted a magazine like Playboy that had just appeared in England and he wanted to give it a run for its money, so he started a magazine called King.’
On her first assignment, Irma went to interview some ladies who, to her surprise, turned out to be strippers at the infamous Raymond Revuebar.
‘I was shocked! But one of the things I realised was that the women who did that kind of work had great contempt for the audience. This was before women had any sort of social power. And boy, did they have power when they stripped off for all the blokes!’
It was during that time that Irma decided she wanted a baby, and her artist boyfriend at the time (who is still a good friend) obliged. Some time later, and with a young son to support, the single mum received an offer to be agony aunt for Cosmopolitan. ‘I thought I’d do it for a year or so!’ she said.
She now divides her time between her London flat and Wimereux, north of Boulogne, where she continues to write. Her latest book, My Life In Agony, she describes as ‘part memoir and partly about the agony-aunting trade’.
‘Agony aunts are not therapists and we’re not counsellors, but we can – and I often did – refer people for counselling. I think mainly we’re strangers who listen and then respond, but never – if we’re good at our job – never with the word “should” because that means I say so, but with “could”.
‘One thing I did learn is that often the solution is next to the problem, and that’s where the sufferer is going to find it.’
Serendipity
Irma may have started in the business over four decades ago, but she says that the things that trouble people are much the same these days.
‘Basically, over time the problems haven’t changed because the main thing is essentially a failure of self-esteem – that’s the big thing. Giving advice begins with genuine and profound curiosity. I’ve always been a bit of a loner and curious about the people around me. I mean, I’m the only person I know who loves to get to airports and train stations early, not because I’m afraid of missing the train, but because I love watching the other passengers. I’ve been a people watcher since dot.
‘And it’s a funny thing, but quite often common sense eludes people totally, especially when they are in love. And later, with lots of experience, that can become wisdom,’ she said.
So who did the agony aunt turn to with her own problems? ‘I’ll tell you the truth – I didn’t. If I had a practical problem, I’d go to the practical person,
like the doctor or the lawyer. But wheI had an emotional problem I would go – I still do – for long walks alone, no mobile phone, nothing.
‘I’d just let the feeling work its way through me and eventually I came to – not a solution, but time has changed the nature of the problem. My heart was almost constantly in love or broken for a solid decade of my life. I began to learn how important it is to step back and remove yourself from the problem for a while.’
And looking back, what advice would Irma give to her rebellious, 1960s free-spirited, roving reporter, single mother younger self? ‘Just keep on trucking, honey!’
AGONY aunt Irma Kurtz is one of the top names coming to the Island’s inaugural literary festival, Connections: Jersey Festival of Words 2015.
As Cosmopolitan’s professional agony aunt for the last 40 years, she has dealt with the most intimate problems of generations of readers. At the Opera House on Friday 2 October you can hear her discuss her memoir My Life in Agony, a meditation on the subjects which concern and confuse us.
Tickets cost £12 and to book, call the Opera House on 511115 or go to jerseyfestivalofwords.org. However, we have three pairs of tickets to give away in our competition. To enter, simply answer this question:
Irma Kurtz has written for which magazine for 40 years?
