Without fake tan I have the skin tones of a dead jellyfish.

I think my siblings sometimes have to defend me within their social circles - they are both barristers.

I'm a schizophrenic mix of wannabe glamourpuss and absolute slob, and my style is very much magistrate-meets-barmaid.

I've got this horrible feeling that I'm one of those people who'll always have to flog their guts out to get anywhere.

I wouldn't say I was grumpy. It's more pathological - I have seismic tantrums. I get red in the face and cry at least three times a week, and I have to lie down and have a nap afterwards.

Anyone who has dead straight hair wants curls.

As a five-year-old in Berlin in 1965, I didn't know that funny women existed. It wasn't until I got back to England that I realised women could be funny.