‘Trust yourself. Life is short’ by Anya Hindmarch

anya hindmarch,life
You remember the times your parents were happy. It makes you happy. I remember sitting in the back of my father’s E-type Jaguar when I was very little. It was such a beautiful car – grey, with navy blue on the outside. My father was quite pleased with it.


If there’s one thing I would say to my childhood self, it’s trust yourself. Life is short, so take the risks. I always say to my children, go for it. Never be ordinary. Sometimes it’s important to be brave.


Public speaking used to terrify me. Then I got some help on it and was told that fear is the same emotion as excitement. It’s just how you channel it. You can change your brain to many things if you decide you want to. It’s a bit like praying.


Panic is my normal state. It has to be if you are doing something that hasn’t been done before.


I felt sick to my core the day one of my children rang me up and said I had forgotten to pick them up from school. It’s just that I’ve got so many children [five] and the date was wrong in my diary.


The Queen came to London Fashion Week, which was thrilling. She’s sharp, bright-eyed and, in a good way, brilliantly curt. She’s not fluffy. She’s on it.


Kindness is the most important thing in a marriage. It is fundamental. The same goes for being a mother. It’s easy to fly off the handle. Being kind works things out. We have a family WhatsApp group. It’s so sweet watching the banter between the kids. If one of them has an issue, they wrap around each other.


The best ideas I’ve ever had have come from a gut instinct. You have to lean into an idea. Creativity is a real journey. First you love what you’re doing, then you hate it and then you hate yourself. That dip is a tough place to be. It’s about holding your nerve.


Perfection is being round my kitchen table, with friends and family traipsing in, the fire lit, and a big roast chicken and a bottle of red wine. That’s as good as it gets.


If I go near the kitchen, the family panics. I can boil an egg. Anything more than that and things go wrong. Cooking is not my skill set.


I think the afterlife is probably the way it was before I was here, which was pretty nice: no pain, no worries, not missing anyone.


I don’t want the future to rush on. I am quite enjoying now. But I am not afraid of the wrinkle.