We women continue to swallow this line that it's unladylike or even proof of being a lesbian if you wear flat shoes like Doc Martens. I'm prepared to put up with that accusation, because at least my feet aren't killing me and I don't look like a bandy ostrich.

I tend to think the world is a bit of a miserable place, so anyone who can add to people's optimistic, cheerful side is doing a good job, which is what I hope I'm doing.

I cannot abide anyone treating another human being like a piece of dirt, whatever the context.

I like men. They are hugely entertaining, but they have a lot of shortcomings and you just have to bear those in mind.

My mum taught me to knit when I was a child, and I turn to it, for some weird reason, when I'm feeling depressed.

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.

When I got married, the Sun ran the headline: "Here comes the bride, all fat and wide." Luckily, it was a few days after the wedding - but it was still hideous to read at a great romantic moment.