It's a decade since Grayson Perry won the most publicised prize in British Art – and he almost thinks he’s been given a new name as a result.
“I’m always referred to as Grayson Perry Turner Prize winner,” he laughs.
Not everyone, of course, wants to be lauded for their enterprise, skills or contribution to society.
Plenty of artists and others have turned down various honours over the years.
“The Turner Prize is a calling card and good people still want it,” he says.
“And the legacy of its reputation depends on good people still wanting it.
“I’ve always been interestefd in it.
“And it’s like The X Factor... people can disappear!”
Grayson, who was made a CBE in 2013 for services to contemporary art, is proud of his work in its many forms – and that he has stayed true to himself.
“I hope I am not a one-shot wonder,” he muses.
“I am more interested in a continuing career.”
He won the Turner Prize for his ceramics but his latest work has been in textiles.
On Friday Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery will become the first Midland venue to display The Vanity of Small Differences, a series of six tapestries inspired following the making of BAFTA award-winning Channel 4 series All in the Best Possible Taste with Grayson Perry.
The tapestries chart the “class journey” made by the fictional Tim Rakewell and include many of the characters, incidents and objects that Grayson encountered as a result of the show.
“I conceived them as a public work that reflected the nature of contemporary Britain,” he says.
“So it’s entirely appropriate that they should go on tour.
“I imagine Birmingham has its fair share of working and middle class citizens and maybe even a few posh people.”
What might disappoint fans, though, is that the artist will not be appearing here in the flesh.
It’s one of the perks of being an artist that your works can appear on your behalf.
“I do enjoy going to galleries where my work is on display,” he admits.
“But it does take about a day-and-a-half to do it,” he reasons.
“Although my main worry is always whether it will look good in a room, you have to let go.
“If I was frightened about every time a piece was badly displayed, life would never be calm.
“On the whole, professional museums get it right and you have to trust them.”
Despite his fears, Grayson also draws pleasure from exhibiting in this way.
“For an artist, that means your work has an afterlife,” he smiles.
“You can’t put on an exhibition without doing anything.
“I don’t worry about posterity one bit.
“And, although I have to ration my energy a bit now, I still hope to have at least another 10 to 15 years in my pomp.
“I can’t believe I used to spend so much time pissing about, but you can’t have regrets.
“I am not a zen guru. I just fret as much as anybody, if not more so.”
Following his TV series, would he love to become a filmmaker?
“Well, I’ve done filmmaking and TV, but could I be an auteur?” says Grayson.
“The trouble with many artists is that they concentrate on the visuals a bit too much.
“Photographers can be quite bad and frightened of meeting a script.
“Being in a studio is all about man hours and back room work, not red carpet glamour. I don’t feel beholden.”
Part of Grayson’s process of feeding his insatiable creativity involves jottings galore.
“I’m an obsessive note taker,” he reveals. “I even do it in the bath. I am relentlessly driving forward to what I am doing next.”
I’m chatting with Grayson after meeting two recent graduates who both decried the Damien Hirst style of celebrity-led art while claiming their lack of financial resources was a creative spur.
Does a man once described as having “succeeded in becoming the anti-Hirst” concur?
“We are all a construction,” says Grayson. “What would anyone do in his position?
“What I would say is ‘don’t diss the brand’.
“Very few people can make even a modest living from art.
“Artists can be idealistic when poor but capable, but to set out in art to try to make money, that’s not a good thing.
“Just look at what makes you happy.”
The cross-dressing transvestite has generated as much comment for his clothing as he has for his art.
He chose an elaborate “mother of the bride” outfit when he collected his CBE from Prince Charles, watched by his wife Phillipa and daughter Flo. But when we chat he is in plain blue overalls and a fleece.
“I’m 53 now,” he says. “And I don’t want to freeze.”
• The Vanity of Small Differences will be in Gallery 20 of the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery from February 14 to May 11. Admission free.
There is an iPhone/iPad app available to download which offers an audio commentary of the exhibition plus additional information about his work.
The app is available only in the App Store, priced £1.99.
