When you see a fantastic colour or cut in a magazine, perched up on some famous so-and-so's head, it's tempting to ask your stylist for the same, but DO NOT BE FOOLED. The hair in those fancy photos can be very high maintenance.

I am tired of spending a little bit of money in a lot of pieces because they keep on falling apart.

I never went to college and I was raised in Arkansas so there wasn't a lot of academic language being thrown around my house. We weren't idiots, but I didn't have that access to academic feminism. I had to realize, on my own, that feminism is not just about how far ahead you can get in a job and it isn't about not wearing makeup. It isn't about not watching your waistline. I had to recreate the world entirely.

Reclaiming the word fat was the most empowering step in my progress. I stopped using it for insult or degradation and instead replaced it with truth, because the truth is that I am fat, and that's ok. So now when someone calls me fat, I agree, whereas before I would get embarrassed and emotional.

I certainly know first hand the waste one lady can create through her primping routine, because I am a victim of fashion: to me a day without makeup and a bouffant to match is a day wasted. I love it all - whether it's fancy, cheap or, I'm ashamed to say, even if it's bad for the environment.

When I think about the idea of Rebel Wilson having to go to the Oscars and not having something amazing to wear that's made for her, it drives me mad.

I'm passionate about color. My best friend and I sit and look at Pantone books for fun.