On this day...baroness Elsa von Freytag

It was probably the largest thing I ever stole. Unless you count the baron’s heart, but how do you measure such a thing? The title, of course, carried some weight. It was the only thing I took when I left for New York, that and the diamond doorknob from the drawing room. I stitched it like a brooch onto the lapel of my coat.

Mostly I just stole little things - trinkets and knick-knacks from brick-a-brack stores. Nothing worth much. Cheap thrills you might say.

You wouldn’t have thought a urinal would be worth much either. That’s why I let him take the credit. He was with me when I stole it but he’d never admit to its origins. His wife would have wanted to know exactly what he was doing with me in the bathroom of the Cafe du Paris. It wasn’t comfortable, I can tell you that, skirts hoisted around my waist as he pushed me against the wall. Haute couture, he said and I laughed at his little joke. He had a droll sense of humour, I’ll give him that.

If I’d known the world would go mad for it, I might not have been so generous. Forget Dada, they were gaga over it. A porcelain receptacle for men’s urine? Talk about taking the piss! I could run rings round them all. Rusty rings like Enduring Ornament, the first of the ready mades. Not so enduring it seems. No-one remembers me, just Duchamps and his toilet. Still, at least I enjoyed the ride.