There is no rule in the pink-triangle guide to coming out that you must wear a rainbow flag cap and organise a full band parade.

There is no shame like poor shame. It can make you warm and charming, bitter and resentful, all at once.

A few years back, when my style was "punk grandma", I picked up an amazing pair of sandals - orthopaedic ones, with really thick soles. I've given them away to a friend now, because these days my look is more "1980s substitute teacher gone wild."

Do I ever think Gossip will be really massive in America? No, I don't think it'll happen - and that's fine. It's kind of nice because I get to experience everything at once. I get to come home and it not be weird, like in Paris or something. It is nice to be completely anonymous.

I know what I want! And I just go for it.

Why wear pants when you can wear a muumuu?

Thanks to capitalism, the importance placed on beauty has never been so manipulated. We are the guinea pigs force-fed ads that tell us how pathetic we are: that we will never be loved, happy or valuable unless we have the body, the face, the hair, even the personality that will apparently be ours, if only we buy their products.