I may be the prat in the hat, that's cool, but I drive an Aston Martin DB5.

I can find every jacket under the sun that I like. But I cannot find trousers cut the way I want them. They're all really tight at the bottom. Nobody does a boot cut on a trouser leg. It drives me crazy.

I have to thank my mum for kicking me out at 16 and making me stand on my own two feet - that's how I got here.

Well, I'm British. I'm proud to be British and I love this country. I'm going nowhere.

I'm not gonna give the British Government the joy of keeping taxing me. They don't tax art. And all my cars are just a collection of art.

I think it is easy for people to build up an image of what I'm about. I consider myself quite a nice chappy really. I'm decent to people, I stay in and listen to Radio 4.

I'm in this absolutely gorgeous manor house with acres of quite beautiful countryside. I've got trout in the river, an organic vegetable garden, I've got my work 40 yards from my home. I don't mind being criticised, but where are they criticising from? Which hut are they criticising me from, exactly?