Free Madonna by Andrew Morton

wear tampons, viewing this form of sanitary protection as virtually equivalent to sexual intercourse, and so to be used only after marriage. If true, these are serious charges, but others seem to have been prompted simply by the usual gripes of adolescence. When Joan made identical dresses for the three elder girls using the same McCall’s pattern and the same bolt of material she had bought at the local Kmart, Madonna resented the lack of individuality. Certainly Mrs Ciccone hotly disputes her stepdaughter’s more serious claims, incredulous at the idea that she would hit her, or have been so blinkered about sanitary protection. This was, after all, the same woman who had tried to teach Madonna the facts of life one day as they stood by the kitchen sink, only to watch the girl run from the room in horror.
    Conversely, what is not in doubt is that whenever her stepmother or father suggested anything, Madonna would complain or disobey almost as a matter of principle. It was an attitude that could lead to some preposterous situations. For instance, even though she had an obvious flair for performing, Madonna railed against taking piano lessons, years later telling Neil Tennant how she preferred to hide in a ditch near the teacher’s home rather than attend the sessions. For a young woman who would, a few short years later, spend hour after painstaking hour learning to play the guitar and the drums, this was a remarkable example of cutting off your creative nose to spite your parental face.
    Eventually she switched to dance classes, learning tap, jazz, ballroom dancing and baton twirling, thereby not only ensuring her place on the Adams High cheerleading squad, but also forming the basis of her future career. Virtually every Saturday she was at dance class, or taking part in local dance contests. Perhaps ironically, and whether Madonna would like to acknowledge it or not, her ‘Wicked Stepmother’ was with her every dance step of the way, encouraging her, praising her successes, and consoling her in her disappointments. Joan took her to lessons, and was in the audience when Madonna took part in competitions. ‘For all the grief she put up with, Mrs Ciccone was a real cheerleader for Madonna,’ recalls Ruth Dupack Young. ‘She was desperate to be a dancer and if she didn’t win a competition she was very disappointed. Mrs Ciccone was always there to lift her spirits.’ Nor could Ruth resist adding her own tribute to Joan: ‘She is a good person who never let anyone forget Madonna’s mother. When visitors came to the house she would show them pictures of Tony’s first wife. She was very open about it.’
    That, however, is not Madonna’s recollection of her stepmother, whatever the difference between the truth and her own concept of reality. ‘I never think of my stepmother as my mother. Just as a woman who raised me, a dominant female in my life,’ she once said. ‘I went through adolescence kind of ignoring her … I always consider myself an absolutely motherless child and I’m sure that has something to do with my openness.’
    At times, this simmering kitchen-sink drama would spill over on to the public stage, as happened during one of Madonna’s early dance routines. In 1970 she graduated from Saint Andrew’s to West Junior High public school. For weeks Madonna, by then thirteen, and her fellow classmates had been practicing their routines for a talent contest in front of an audience of parents and faculty. While Ruth Dupack and another friend, Nancy Baron, choreographed a gymnastics routine, Madonna rehearsed a solo dance number in which she came on stage dressed as a private eye. Wearing a long trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat she danced to the theme music from Secret Agent, a popular TV show. Her three-minute routine ended dramatically with the sound of gunshots ripping through the auditorium.
    All went as planned during rehearsals, with Madonna’s drama teacher suitably impressed by the inventive