My mum is bright, ambitious, well read, political and very bolshie: when my dad was conscripted into the Army and posted to Libya, she convinced some general to let her go with him. I don't know how she managed it.

I like to shock people.

In the end, punk inevitably burned itself out and acted as a bridge across which the New Romantics could sashay in their chiffon and glossy hair.

I do say no to lots of things, actually! I know it doesn't look like it. But I have a tendency to a) be rubbish at saying no, and b) be pushed by some kind of Protestant work ethic.

I think self-esteem is fluid. It's not a fixed state, and so some days are better than others.

Even nice things don't make you happy when you're tired.

I must be an anorexic because an anorexic looks in the mirror and sees a fat person.