Skirt-wearing lawyer's extra-ordinary life
By
EMILY WATT - The Dominion Post | Saturday, 10 May 2008
Here's something you definitely didn't know about lawyer Rob
Moodie: He's actually a little bit shy.
The man who delights in
shocking the public - who has sauntered along Lambton Quay in an Alice in
Wonderland dress, and who will take on the might of the judiciary and flash his
lace garters at reporters on the way to court - is nervous in social
situations.
"My wife Sue
laughs when I say this," he says.
"I'm quite
comfortable in fronting up to speaking at a gathering of hundreds of people,
but put me in a room with a glass of wine in my hand and ask me to mix and
circulate and I'm looking for the back door."
Outwardly, Dr Moodie is
cocky and courageous, a man who takes on seemingly impossible cases with the
tenacity of a dog with a bone.
He represented his
friend, former police superintendent Alec Waugh, who was reinstated with a $1.5
million payout six years after being forced out of the police, and declared
victory this month in the 14-year battle of Keith and Margaret Berryman after
the High Court quashed a coroner's ruling that they were "mostly" to
blame for a man's death on a bridge to their farm.
Though the judgment was
not all the Berrymans had asked for, Dr Moodie called it a "100 per cent
victory" and is seeking $4.5 million damages.
To his detractors, his
success must be all the more bemusing given his flamboyant technique.
Dr Moodie has tried to
sue the solicitor-general, defied court suppressions and posted a secret
document on the Internet (a move that cost him a $5000 fine and three months'
suspension), clothes his six-foot-plus frame in a dress, and changed his name
by deed poll - first name Miss, last name Alice - in protest against the "old
boys club" of the legal fraternity.
Dr Moodie is kooky, but
you'd be a fool to underestimate him.
"I'm one of those
people that tends to stick at things until it works," he says of his stint
as a millionaire Mexican goat farmer. "And when it works I move on."
His career has not been
one of your typical shrinking violets. He has been a pilot who quit because
flying during peacetime was too boring, a dapper young CIB detective in a
three-piece suit and suede shoes who rose to the ranks of inspector (while
studying law part-time, topping his class and finishing a PhD a year quicker
than expected), a Police Association boss in pearls and a dress, a goat farmer
in Texas and Mexico, and mayor of Manawatu.
Latterly, of course, he
has been a thorn in the side of the judiciary, battling often for free for
issues he believes in.
"Nature, or in
some people's minds, God, provides us with a programming which includes a
reaction against dishonesty and fraud. It's a natural instinct," he says.
"I don't take
people on. I've never done that, ever. I take on issues."
He will turn 70 in
October, but the battles are not over.
"I've got tons of
energy," he says.
He is still fighting
for sacked Radio New Zealand boss Lynne Snowdon and is working on a case,
similar to the Waugh case, that will soon become public. And he's writing a
book entitled Shit Justice.
He is, he says, an
"ordinary heterosexual", married for 25 years, a father of three. The
cross-dressing is something he has always done, something he is very
comfortable with.
"I've always
regarded myself as a bit of a hybrid in a lot of ways.
I'm a normal male,
obviously, but I've got enormous respect for the feminine values. Everybody's
different in their sexuality.
I don't believe it's
just a male or female distinction. It's a continuum from one to the
other."
He muses this may have
stemmed from childhood in Otago.
From the age of seven,
he grew up in the Lookout Pt boys home, a pariah of the local school and
rejected by his family.
He was one of 10
children, but all the sons were sent away and made wards of state when his
father died of tuberculosis. "I came from a family where all of the boys
were not wanted," he says.
During the war he saw
women as the leaders and decision makers, while the men went off to fight. He
still views masculinity as a sort of weakness.
Though the dresses were
commonplace at home, they became a political statement in April 2006 when the
court brought contempt proceedings against him.
"I decided I had
to arm myself so I got myself a pretty dress and changed my name."
He has dropped the
moniker Miss Alice, but Dr Moodie still wears a skirt at times.
Last weekend, he wore
one to Bunnings Warehouse.
At first the young guys
in the store were taken aback, but by the end of the visit, he says, "they
realised it's just an ordinary guy in a skirt".
If so, they would have
been mistaken. Skirt or no, there is not a lot that is ordinary about the shy
Rob Moodie.