What happened at Grazia? Would you do OnlyFans? Are you single?

In which I answer anonymous questions because I am a monstrous egotist.

A few weeks ago I had an evening alone and rather than sitting with my internal monologue, I did something called NGL. It’s an app, probably for teenagers, where people can ask you anonymous questions, which is obviously a very bad idea, but when has that ever stopped anyone from doing anything?

I started replying on Twitter but then the questions got increasingly sexual and I didn’t really know how to answer them, but some of them were pleasingly personal and quite interesting, and I’m a little thin on inspiration for structuring my thoughts because I had a filling this morning and half my face is completely numb, so I thought I’d answer them here.

There were quite a lot about my sex life, my body and my sexual history which I’ve skipped over because I don’t think we need to discuss when I last had an orgasm or if I’ve got sensitive nipples.

What happened at Grazia?

If I had been asking me NGL questions, this is the one I’d ask, because if you don’t know me but you follow me on Twitter you’d have been me cheerfully sharing Grazia content one day, and then not working there over night, and if you like gossip, it’s actually a really good story.

It’s quite a long story, but the top line goes like this: It was a bad fit from the outset. On the day I arrived I’d had a miscarriage a couple of weeks earlier and someone had (totally accidentally) left a load of pregnancy books on my desk. I went to the loo and cried, and it never really got much better. No-one really knew what my job was supposed to be, they’d inflated the job title to attract a better standard of applicant and I’d taken the job because I liked the prestige of the brand, and because I was feeling a bit lost in my career, not because I wanted to work in an office. I was told I was there to spice things up, bring new ideas, help work on a revamp. I didn’t realise that companies often say this, and that it doesn’t actually mean it’s going to happen.

I perpetually felt like an annoyance because no-one wanted me to do any of the things I was good at, and I’m sure they’d tell you that I could be a pain in the arse. Weeks and weeks of no-one thinking I could get anything right started to take a proper toll on my mental health. I’d always beens spoiled, ever editor I’d ever worked for had been inspiring and supportive and brilliant, and now I didn’t understand how to excel, in fact I couldn’t even find a way to tread water. Anyway, after six miserable months where the only bright spot was the people I managed (all of whom were wildly talented and truly lovely) I negotiated to become a contributing editor instead. Which felt like the perfect compromise.

I then wrote a freelance piece for the Telegraph about the death of Caroline Flack, which Grazia felt constituted reputational damage. They emailed me telling me not to come into the office the next day, I didn’t check my email on a non-working day so cheerfully arrived the next morning, and had to be told to leave, which remains the most shaming moment of my life.

After that I had a nervous breakdown. I’d been massively successful for my whole twenties, and now I couldn’t stay pregnant, couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t get anything right. Then the pandemic hit, and I sort of retreated into my shell and hated myself for eighteen months. Eventually I started therapy, got pregnant, and then my marriage fell apart, which put the whole into perspective.

Would you ever do OnlyFans?

I was genuinely very surprised that about 40% of the messages I got were asking me to do OnlyFans (some of them were enquiries about whether I would, others were requests for me to do so) because I don’t see myself as someone people would want to pay money to see naked.

The short answer is no, I wouldn’t, because I think my life is set up in quite a different way, there’s still a huge stigma around that kind of work, and taking great nudes requires photography skill that I lack. I sort of wish I had the balls to do it, I have nothing but respect for anyone who does, but at least for now I’m selling my emotions via substack instead of my tits via Onlyfans.

Are you single?

I’m getting divorced, and (a fairly recent development) I have a boyfriend.

What’s one regret you have about marriage?

It’s a really tricky butterfly effect question, because my marriage created my daughter, and I wouldn’t change anything which might change her. If you discount that, I’m still not really sure. I don’t think I did it all perfectly, but I think I honestly consistently made the best choice I was able to make in any given moment. I certainly always really, really tried. And while sometimes I could be a colossal bitch, I think I was usually justified in that.

Did you know your marriage would fail when you got married?

I’d probably argue that my marriage didn’t fail, it ended. But no, of course I wouldn’t. In retrospect sure, I ignored red flags, but I was happy a lot of the time back then, and I was 24 when I got engaged and hadn’t dated much, so I was naive and optimistic and believed it would last for life.

Would you actually sell feet pics?

See above.

Would you sell nudes?

See above.

Have you written about any of your lesbian experiences?

Honestly no, I only tend to write about the dramatic parts of my life, and all the women I’ve been involved with have been very low drama.

Who are the rudest famous people you’ve encountered through your work?

This is so great, and I love it. I’ve worked with a couple of very right wing commentators who I’d be keen not to work with again, but other than that I think almost everyone has been lovely. I’m always surprised by how cooly professional Holly Willoughby is. Not rude, just very different from her onscreen vibe.

Fancy waking up naked together one morning?

I’m fascinated by the logic of sending this anonymously.

What brings you joy?

What a lovely question. Writing. Selling something I’ve written. Feeling like I have my shit together. Walking through pretty parts of London with really loud music on my airpods. Having a house which is largely fairly clean and perpetually full of people. Watching my daughter become more and more of a person. Cooking for everyone and anyone I love. Being really deeply cringey and earnest and a bit much.

What does it feel like to be you at the moment?

Also such a lovely question. It feels like a lot, but in both very good and very bad ways. Sometimes I look around my house and I want to scream because no matter how hard I work on keeping it pristine, it’s always a fucking tip by the end of the day, and the futility of it all kills me. I feel constantly terrified about money, about being able to support myself and my child. I love my career more than I can convey in words (ironically) and I’m perpetually terrified I’ll have to stop doing it in order to make more money, but I’m not sure I’d even be qualified to do anything else.

But there’s also a mad amount of joy, that I have a child who lights up when she sees me, who is more brilliant every day, that I’m raising her surrounded by all these funny, clever, loving adults, that my house is a sort of common room for all my friends and family and that I never go 48 hours without someone dropping in for a glass of wine or a brownie. That I have days where I bake with my daughter and then put her to bed and disappear into central London to snog my boyfriend in a gallery and drink wine and flirt over dinner.

Sometimes it feels like I’m living two lives at the same time, devoted mother and housewife in the day, slutty neo-Bridget Jones at night. And obviously, I have a small child, so I’m really fucking tired.

Have you ever been to Japan?

No, I have not been to Japan. If this is the Japanese tourist board, yes I am willing to go.

I very much hope that there was enough gossip in here to make it worth reading.