Yes, these are my legs, if you’re wondering.
I don’t come from a design background originally. I did sciences at Cambridge first of all. Despite the fact that all through school I was outstanding at anything in the Arts and especially in writing, for some reason wrapped up in the antique rationale of English education, I was pushed into medicine and ended up taking Genetics.
So ever since I’ve had rather an iconoclastic career, if you could call it that, largely devoted to trying to press home the idea that I’m not actually a technical person at all but an artist. Along the way I did a Ph.D. in Theoretical Electronics – I’ve always been curious as to just why I can’t shine at technical subjects and finally did with this – and worked in London as a Fashion Photographer in the decade that didn’t seem that inspired at the time but has come to be seen as the Roaring Eighties. I finally did do an M.A. in Architecture and Urban Studies alongside the Interior Design M.A. in the same department just a few years ago.
And now I’ve become a total fashion victim, crazy about escarpins (heels) above all, and about everything from kaftans to snoods, and mad about denim. And I’m typing this in crazily long flamenco red nails! If you like people who are a bit mad, you’ll like me.
Colour is central to everything I do. Strong, hot, Italianate, Renaissance colour. The intrinsic passion in red and black, blue and gold, soft pinks and vivid apple greens. The power and impact of colour are unparalleled, and one of the misfortunes of living in England is that, almost uniquely in the world, our light is always grey. The image appearing here shows one of those classic combinations, vividly rendered in the exquisite beauty of old glass lit from behind. I took this picture many years ago and it still thrills me.
