I 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 More
