TALES FROM BELLA'S WORLD...

This is a photograph of me and my dad. I wish it wasn’t so blurry, but it is immediately recognisably me and him. Funny to think of dad in a yellow jumper. I...

Today I received a letter – a rare occurrence. This one arrived in a pale grey envelope with elegant spidery handwriting. It reminded me of being at school and the intense relationships between...

My early memories of getting to know my father took place mostly in restaurants. As a tiny child I remember mum taking my sister Esther and I to meet him in Marine Ices...

When I was a child and living in Marrakech, my sister Esther and I entertained ourselves with obsessions about certain words. We settled on Hideous and Kinky as the favourites. We would chant them,...

I have always found that clothes in films are the key to bringing a character, especially a heroine, into the focus of thought provoking fascination. People’s gestures and actions, the small details of how they...

‘Where do you get your ideas from?’ The screen in my mind shows a desert. An uninterrupted undulating horizon of nothingness. The question of where do I get my ideas prompts the fear...

Once, when I was in Paris for work in the late 90’s, I arranged to have breakfast with my friend Christian Louboutin. We ambled down the Rue de Rivoli and wandered into a smart-looking...

In 1999 I did my last catwalk show. I had shown every season since soon after I launched my label, always up for nights in a row before the shows. It was such...

When I reached the age of 25 I gave up alcohol and drugs and I have stayed that way ever since. Without these stimulants to regulate my thoughts and feelings, I turned to...

Here is a picture of my mother Bernardine, my sister Esther, and me. We had just returned from living in Morocco for two years. Even though we were ‘home’ everything was hard to...

I only have one photograph of my mother and father together. This image is from when dad had taken my mother to the South of France, I think a few months after I...

I don't remember when I started to be someone who was late for things but it became a signature, a horrible one, which I both dreaded as inevitable, and on some level relished. It is ironic...

Here I am striking a pose in a room full of Nan Goldin prints at the Victoria and Albert museum. This room is part of an amazing selection of Sir Elton John and...