There comes a point where certain things are becoming my Achilles heel; you know when you start repeating yourself and saying the same anecdotes over and over again you start slowly hating yourself.

I just love vintage. I have far too many vintage dresses.

Obviously there are going to be a lot of skeptics. I only hope I can prove them wrong and give the idea of model-slash-anything a genuine chance.

I'm surrounded by freaks. Am I weirder than the rest of them? Ultimately I've learned to pride myself on being quirky.

I constantly have a devil on my shoulder telling me that what I'm doing is really horrible, and then somehow the lightning strike happens and everything comes together. I've just realized I have to live with that devil on my shoulder a little bit more.

A movie's a movie - you know I'm a massive old film buff - but it's still something to me, music: I can still close my eyes like I was when I was a teenager, and it can still make me weep or make me angry or make me, even if it's bad music, crack up.

As a model I had a lot of success when I was 17 and 18 years old. It was before social media, before the world was what the world is, but even then it was terrifying, to be 18 years old and people knowing who you are, and I was this personality who was completely devoid of who I actually was. It was almost like being a manufactured boy band. You're sort of like a wind up doll; they wind you up and put you on the runway or something like that.