I typed "lingerie stores" into Naver Maps. Apparently, I was ten minutes from a pair of crisp white knickers. Forty minutes later, I was wandering around in circles in Louis Vuitton. Up the escalator again. Prada pants, anyone?
The concierge sent me to Venus on the eighth floor. Love, attraction and desire flashed in front of my eyes. The problem was that Venus specialised in padded matching sets. Padding-wise, I'm doing fine on my own, thanks.
Read MoreI once boarded an EasyJet flight in an orange cotton shirt dress. I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out what happened next. Let’s just say I was accidentally promoted to cabin crew.
Some of my biggest fashion faux pas have occurred either en route to or in Paris. You arrive with one of those ridiculous carry-on suitcases, when all you really want is your entire wardrobe, a stylist, a blow-dry, and a small dog.
Read MoreI’ve been walking the streets thinking about writing about Dame Tracey Emin, and it’s giving me anxiety. Taking on Britain’s greatest female artist is no small task. So I’ve decided to follow in Tracey’s footsteps and be brave.
Read MoreI walked out of the school gates and there was my new stepdad shouting my name. He was waving out of the top of one of those campervans with the striped fabric push-up roof. I googled it later - a dormobile. I can’t remember whether it was a VW or not. I was fourteen years old at the time.
Read MoreI walked down the stairs, and there he was, the artist, let’s call him Mr P — bouncing across the stage, zipped up in a sleeping bag painted to look like poop. It was absurd, hilarious, and, somehow, completely serious.
Read MoreWho in their right mind rocks up in Milan, doesn't check any kind of ticketing situation, and just bowls up at The Last Supper? I walked towards her. They say the devil wears Prada. Take it from me; she wasn't wearing Prada. My devil wore a tight nylon security uniform with red eyeshadow and a truncheon.
Read MoreWhen I asked my parents if they would like something to eat, my Mum piped up, "We'ŗe not hungry." Do you think she had him fitted with a gastroscope? (A gastroscope is a tube with a camera and a light at the end, allowing doctors and wives to view the inside of the digestive tract.) She might have him on Ozempic. Who knows.
Read MoreI rushed into the newsagent on Holloway Road North London, I said to the guy working there "Do you think I am Indian?" his eyes glazed over, he had a romantic look in his eye, "Madam I would love to see you in a sarai."
Read MoreI have never been one for planning. I'm the winging-it spontaneous type. It turns out that as well as a social diary, a work calendar, a birthday book or whatever we now need a friggin art calendar.
Read MoreBeing born in the 1970's my boys would say "it's a vibe." From waist-length long hair and floppy hats to free love and inner peace. I carry that "vibe" in my heart and soul. Think Chloe and Aveda (expensive, I know) and a relaxed demeanour. That's moi. In my dreams anyways.
Read MoreNew York, what can I say?! The best city in the goddam world, right? You got this NYC. My love for New York is real.
When the boys were little we stayed at the Gansevoort Hotel in the meet-packing district. I left the boys playing with one of those floaty footballs you know the ones that are virtually see-through in the rooftop pool whilst I took a whizz (is that a wee? Dash might be a better word) around The Whitney. Looking back, that was irresponsible or should I say dumb? (not the first time for either).
Read More"Hands up this is a robbery" is the only way to describe the Museu Banksy in Lisbon. I paid my 12 euros at the desk and asked the lady what pieces I should look out for. "We don't have any original Banksy pieces, they are all reproductions" I was out of there and in there all at the same time.
Read MoreEveryone is talking about Venice right now. I realised I often talk about places I travel to but never my home. It is much harder writing about your city. So, let's think about London for just a moment.
The reason I love London is that you can be anyone you want to be. It sounds so simple. It is special. It's magical. It's freedom. It's all-inclusive. London is a sprawling multicultural metropolis. Music and madness. Unique food combinations. Artists. You name it's here. And most importantly, it brings love for one another.
Read MoreI am lucky to have beautiful people in my life. Friends that make me laugh so hard it hurts. Lovers, old and new, check that I got home ok. And people that hold my hand and walk the world. A meeting of minds is treasure for eternity.
Not many places in the world can make my heart sink at the suggestion of a trip away with a special friend. But Marrakech? Marrakech the hot, hectic maze of madness? Instead of drifting around Stockholm's Nordiska Kompaniet and swimming in the tranquil lakes of Gnesta, we would be in Jemaa el-Fna Square with snakes and beating drums.
Read MoreIt was my second day at The Body Shop when the receptionist called my phone and said, "Anita is in reception for you." From that moment on I knew something wasn’t quite right.
To the beautiful, talented, broken creative people that work at The Body Shop, this piece is dedicated to you…
Read MoreOverexcited and in love with this city I have just spent 48 hours wide awake pacing my bedroom floor in a small hotel on Calle Del Prado, Madrid. I can sleep for England (not with England) well, maybe one or two of them. It turns out I was high. High on Spanish 500mg migraine tablets. I was even thinking of walking to the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza at 2.30am, now that's dedication for you!
Read MoreI couldn't decide whether to title this blog post "The Art of Getting Lost" or "Get Lost." There is a shop on Essex Road in Islington called "Get Stuffed." When I was a junior art director in advertising my copywriter and I used to call them weekly to hear the guy say: "Get Stuffed' when he answered the phone. He had a rising inflection. We giggled, "No, you get stuffed." Childish, I know. It is one of the reasons I thought this blog should be titled "Get Lost."
Read MoreTen minutes with Remi Rough.
Read MoreThis morning my 74-year-old Mum drove to London at 6 am to take Oreo my beloved poodle (he needs walking three times a day) she stood in the pouring rain as he ran to her. It's an image I'll never forget. We need him here. He calms us, heals us and makes us laugh. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd fall in love with a poodle.
Read MoreI'm actually feeling very positive at the moment, as usual. Lockdown has been a strange time but I think we're heading in the right direction now and it makes me happy. I've been very busy during the last few months in my studio and it's been a very productive time for me which always makes me feel better.
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