the duns g43

12 JANUARY 2020

THE STYLISH MIDLIFE MANIFESTO LORRAINE CANDY INTERVIEWS GILLIAN ANDERSON DENIM WHAT TO BUY AND HOW TO WEAR IT NIGELLA LAWSON THE JOY OF MESS

My BRUNETTE breakdown EDITOR’S BUYS

The new boot £115; clarks.co.uk

VICTORIA ADAMSON

Still winter cocooning Cable-knit jumper, £42; riverisland.com

Effective and addictive Nars Light Reflecting Setting Powder, £29

Editor-in-chief

I

have been a blonde almost all my adult life, bar a brief pink perm during the 1980s, when I was a teenager growing up in Cornwall.

But in 2010, aged 42, I cut my shoulder-length white-blonde hair into a bob and dyed it black. It is the single worst beauty decision I have made, worse even than a radical eyebrow pluck during the 1990s. There are pictures on the internet (the hair, not the brows) that I never want to see again. They’re hideous. I look ridiculous.

Everyone hated it, and when our Airedale terrier first saw it, he barked at me for a solid 10 minutes. It took me three years to grow it out and get it back to its natural dirty-blonde shade. None of my clothes went with it, and I never got my make-up to work. The fact that it took four hours to get right should have been a clue to the size of the mistake I was making. My hairdresser said my blonde mop was a “dark resister” and told me from the get-go I wouldn’t like it. But I wanted change. I woke up one morning with an itch to scratch, a need I couldn’t put my finger on, so I chose my hair. Idiot.

When Marian Keyes felt the same itch, aged 55, she decided to go for full-length-to-her-bottom “mermaid hair”, which she writes about on page 38. Her decision, though, was the right one. It looks naturally fabulous and has put a zing into her life that she felt was missing.

Hair is such an integral piece of a woman’s identity, more so, I think, than any other aspect of our appearance. When I edited glossy monthlies, research showed that cover lines about hair made for the bestselling issues — above sex and orgasm even. Maybe it is what we use first to identify ourselves and what we feel we have the most power over.

I have friends who have lost their hair as a result of cancer treatment, and for them this is often the cruellest and saddest part of what they are going through. Zoë Irwin, creative director at John Frieda salons, says she always knows something dramatic is happening in a woman’s life when she asks for a radical change to her hair. She’s right.

What was that itch I wanted to scratch 10 years ago? It’s no surprise it was the year I became pregnant with my fourth baby, five years after having my son. I’ve only just looked at the timing and worked it out. When Mabel was born, in May 2011, she was the first of my pale-skinned, blue-eyed offspring to arrive with dark hair. It seems she was the brunette I wanted.

Enjoy the issue, and if you’re one for new intentions, I would recommend Nadia Narain and Katia Narain Phillips’s new online course: A Gentle Revolution (nadiaandkatia.com). We featured the sisters and their bestselling books on self-care in Style, and their simple advice on how to be a happier, calmer you is a sensible take on the wellness trends we are bombarded with at this time of year. @SundayTimesLC

@theststyle

ON THE COVER Gillian Anderson Photograph Luca Campri Styling Maya Zepinic Silk jacquard blouse, £980, and leather trousers, £2,590, Fendi

THE NEW PODCAST with Lorraine Candy and Trish Halpin.

Subscribe at postcardsfrom midlife.com/listen

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF LORRAINE CANDY CREATIVE DIRECTOR SUZANNE SYKES DEPUTY EDITOR LAURA ATKINSON FASHION DIRECTOR JANE McFARLAND BEAUTY DIRECTOR SARAH JOSSEL FEATURES EDITOR LOUISA McGILLICUDDY ENTERTAINMENT EDITOR SCARLETT RUSSELL DIGITAL EDITORIAL DIRECTOR TOM MILLER DIGITAL DIRECTOR ANNA SBUTTONI DIGITAL ASSISTANT ALICE KEMP-HABIB ART DIRECTOR ANDREW BARLOW DESIGNER ABIGAIL ROGERS PICTURE EDITOR CATHERINE PYKETT-COMBES ASSISTANT EDITOR FLEUR BRITTEN ASSOCIATE FASHION DIRECTOR VERITY PARKER FASHION AND MERCHANDISE EDITOR FLOSSIE SAUNDERS ACTING FASHION AND MERCHANDISE EDITOR BEATRIZ DE COSSIO BOOKINGS DIRECTOR AND CREATIVE PRODUCER LEILA HARTLEY FASHION FEATURES ASSISTANT HENRIK LISCHKE FASHION ASSISTANT PHOEBE SCHURINGS BEAUTY EDITOR AVA WELSING-KITCHER BEAUTY ASSISTANT SHEILLA MAMONA CONTRIBUTING BEAUTY EDITOR LAURA KENNEDY EDITORIAL ASSISTANT ROISIN KELLY PRODUCTION EDITOR MATTHEW DAVIS CHIEF SUB-EDITOR SOPHIE FAVELL SENIOR SUB-EDITOR JANE McDONALD

The Sunday Times Style

3

CHARLOTTE EDWARDES Are you a BECKY or an ANGELA?

VICTORIA ADAMSON, GETTY

W

ell, one thing is for sure: when Rebecca Long Bailey and Angela Rayner made their pact about who would run for Labour leader, it would not have been in the chichi surroundings of an Islington restaurant, as the “Granita pact” was for Tony Blair and Gordon Brown.

It might have been over a “brew”, as Rayner calls it, in the kitchen of the south London flat they share four days a week when they are not in their Greater Manchester constituencies.

Or it might have been in the nearby pub. If I were to picture this, Long Bailey would have a soft drink, like her hero, Jeremy Corbyn, and be wearing her solicitor’s uniform of a cowlneck and pearls, while Rayner would be chatting to the locals and would leave her scarf behind at closing.

What I can’t guess is what was said. All I know is that Long Bailey emerged the alpha of the two, Rayner the loyal support. Sure, Long Bailey — or “My Becky”, as John McDonnell calls her — is a carrier of the Corbyn flame.

She is a safe bet, a goody two-shoes, socks pulled up until the elastic snaps. She is cautious and predictable, and rarely gives interviews. One commentator recently said: “Her speeches are like wallpaper.” She looks like the sort of person who might talk to you sensitively about your will.

Rayner, on the other hand, you can’t miss.

She’s a tall, bawdy redhead, the sort of person to belt out Don’t Look Back in Anger during the karaoke at the Mirror party at the Labour conference one year; or to shout at my boyfriend, as she saw him arriving through the car park door at the conference hotel: “Oooh, not what I expected — Robert Peston coming in the back entrance.”

If we want our politicians to have real-life experience then, boy, does she: growing up “feral” in a chaotic home on a council estate in Stockport, with a bipolar, suicidal mother who couldn’t read and who once brought home dog food because she didn’t understand the label.

Rayner left school pregnant at 16. She had lost six friends by 18, to drugs, to joyriding.

I CAN THINK OF COUNTLESS OCCASIONS WHEN I HAVE STEPPED BACK TO ALLOW A FRIEND TO SEIZE AN OPPORTUNITY

One of her three sons was born at 23 weeks, blind. She became a grandmother at 37. In terms of understanding hardship, she is this generation’s Alan Johnson.

And then she says things like “ideology never put food on my table”, which upsets the purists on the hard left, and “my politics are deeply rooted in pragmatism”. And she has even mocked the Oxbridge types, of the sort you found in the leader’s office, for their Che Guevara T-shirts and their “miner’s night” at the student union, saying, “It’s just a game to them.” She is honest, say interviewers, almost to a fault. “I’ll just eat you alive,” she joked to the editor of The Spectator.

So why, in that pub/kitchen negotiation, did Long Bailey emerge on top? According to a friend, Rayner gave way “because Becky wants it more and is more confident. She and Becky are great friends and she could not betray a friend. In effect she was saying two things: friendship and loyalty come first, and her lack of a university degree and less polished performances felt like a disadvantage.”

Loyalty and insecurity, then. But the dilemma of whether to give way to a friend when you both want the same thing is, I think, universal — at work or in any other scenario.

I’m a bit of an Angela in this respect. I can think of countless occasions, including a job application that I subsequently regretted not going for, when I have stepped back to allow a friend to seize an opportunity. Occasionally I’ve also been a Becky. When I look around at them, my friends are a spread of Beckys and Angelas.

And aside from the Blair-Brown “pact” — the kind of contract we see in HBO’s Succession, written in blood, broken as soon as sealed — I don’t think this loyalty is so obviously a male thing, as the Miliband brothers show.

I know of male friends who have come to actual blows over the same girl, but in the case of female friends, mostly one goes alpha, the other bows out.

But that doesn’t mean to say that the one who gives way isn’t the better bet. Too bad that in the Becky and Angela story we may never find out. ▪

@CHEDWARDES The Sunday Times Style

5

MRS MILLS Barometer

By Laura Atkinson

Fashion TV Next in Fashion with Tan and Alexa starts on January 29, and Making the Cut, aka the new Project Runway, is on later this spring. Binge watching, but make it fashion

Kidulthood London’s hippest new hotel opening is Treehouse, where everything is imagined through a child’s eyes: sleeping bag throws and teddy bears in bedrooms for all

Nighty Night Has finally reached the iPlayer! The best way to spend January is with Jill

Scooter glutes Unexpected advantage of all those incidental lunges done by the annoying dad on the school run.

Who’s laughing now, eh?

HEATING UP

Metropolis The cult 1927 film clearly on everyone’s mood board for spring/ summer.

If in doubt, think silver

COOLING DOWN

ILLUSTRATION: FI GREW. NO CORRESPONDENCE CAN BE ENTERED INTO. ALAMY, GETTY, @LOVEFROMREYN, @TANFRANCE, MATTHEW CORRIGAN, REX, TM, WARNER BROS, SIMON BROWN, @DITOJAN

Parenting courses All about grandparenting workshops now, where nana and pops learn how to behave in their ‘new roles’ Glass-blowing Had its moment in the sun. This year it’s competitive flower-arranging, thanks to new Netflix show The Big Flower Fight Two-tone hair It’s like 2003 and All Saints never happened, guys

Highliner When you draw a line of highlighter directly above your lips. Like a sheeny-shiny moustache

Vegetable ice cream Strawberries with hidden carrots or chocolate with hidden cauliflower?

Not on our watch

Answers your questions

BENEFITS OF ASS I read that ass’s milk is good for the skin, getting rid of wrinkles and keeping it soft, which of course must be why Cleopatra bathed in it. Is this true, and should I start using it for my Saturday evening bath time?

EG, Esher There is some evidence to suggest that ass’s milk, which in fact comes from donkeys, does have some benefits for the skin, but it reportedly took 700 donkeys to produce enough milk for Cleopatra to take a dip.

There are some commercially produced creams made from donkey’s milk that you might find more practical to try.

SHEEPISH QUESTION Can I keep a sheep as a pet? I love their woolly coats and like the idea of having one to wander about in the garden. We’ve got a couple of cats and three guinea pigs, so I’m no stranger to animal care.

GF, Norwich You can keep a sheep as a pet, but you’ll need quite a big garden — they eat a lot of grass — and don’t expect it to lie next to you on the sofa in the evenings when you’re watching telly, as they are notoriously difficult to house-train.

MIDLIFE CLICHE One of our friends has been dumped by his wife. His reaction has been to have a continuing series of much younger girlfriends. He’s in his late forties; they are invariably twentysomething. We all know these relationships aren’t going to last, but he is deaf to our expostulations.

Why can’t we make him see what a hideous cliché of midlife crisis he has become?

DF, by email He’s probably perfectly aware of what a cliché he has become, but, honestly, do you think he cares?

GROOMING NOW Do I have to match my lipstick to my nail varnish?

GS, by email Only if you live in Idaho, or 1955. mrs.mills@sunday-times.co.uk The Sunday Times Style

7

WHERE TO BUY

AN INVESTMENT BAG Choose well and get something covetable that will also work for real life, says Jane McFarland

@jane_mcfarland Rollneck, £13; uniqlo.com. Fringed coat, £682, Nanushka; libertylondon.com. Jeans, £85; jigsaw-online.com.

Suede boots, £240; aeyde.com. Leather bag, £395; sjo.online Photograph Trisha Ward

8 The Sunday Times Style

Wardrobe Mistress

SHOP

HAIR AND MAKE-UP: SUMMER DYASON USING IT COSMETICS AND CLOUD NINE. NAILS: JOANNA NEWBOLD AT TERRI MANDUCA USING CHANEL LE VERNIS IN ROUGE NOIR AND CHANEL LE LIFT LA CREME MAIN

THE OUTFIT

Left, from top Teddy coat, £90; zara.com. Ribbed jumper, £45; johnlewis.com. Jeans, £95; levi.com. Leather bag, £445; sjo.online. Loafers, £110; ghbass-eu.com. Middle Check overshirt, £35; marksandspencer.com. Tank top, £30; zara.com.

Jeans, £20; hm.com. Leather bag, £585; ferian.co.uk. Desert boots, £100; clarks.co.uk. Right Puff-sleeve blouse, £30; zara.com. Satin skirt, £89; cosstores.com. Leather tote, £570; innis.london. Mules, £65; topshop.com

WHAT Fashion fads come and go, but a good handbag is for life. I have more than I care to admit to here, yet I only ever rotate between two fairly boring choices: a black top-handle for the office and a tan crossbody for the weekend. Switching between even these two is a bore — a misplaced lip balm here, an absent receipt there. In the spirit of my new year intention to navigate everyday life with new-found ease, it’s time to invest in one bag that does it all.

WHO There are the instantly recognisable classics: they often come with two interlocking Cs and I’ve yet to meet a woman who doesn’t want one. (That’s the Chanel 2.55, of course.) The Fendi Baguette had its moment in pop culture — thank you, SJP — but isn’t a practical choice if you have real-life stuff to do. And the Hermès

Birkin remains the ultimate status symbol for the woman who has it all. Luckily, for the rest of us there is a plethora of less conspicuous yet high-quality, mid-price labels including Ferian, Innis, S Joon (designed in Leeds and produced in the same factory as cult brand Mansur Gavriel) and Wandler.

NEED TO KNOW The key is to invest in a handbag that, unlike other accessory purchases, won’t feel irrelevant in 10 years’ time. That means no obvious logo or branding, or any odd shapes that won’t hold all your stuff. (It will remain hanging on a doorknob, while you drag around several grubby tote bags.) And before you raise your eyebrows at the prices, isn’t the responsible alternative to fast fashion to buy fewer, more expensive pieces that you’ll use for years to come? ▪

The Sunday Times Style

9

WHAT TO WEAR WITH

HEAD-TO-TOE COLOUR Edit Phoebe Schurings Words Henrik Lischke

●PINK Last June, Simon Porte Jacquemus’s fuchsia catwalk went viral.

Now pink is the perfect colour for a spring wardrobe takeover.

Pair with sorbet-toned shoes and earrings.

ADEAM

Earrings, £41, Roxanne Assoulin; net-a-porter.com.

Knot-front shirt, £26; zara.com. Trousers, £235, Staud; net-a-porter.com. Flats, £39; jigsaw-online.com

Stripy shirt, £195; motherofpearl.co.uk. Pearl earrings, £55, Chan Luu; net-a-porter.com. Cropped trousers, £109; whistles.com. Boots, £96; zara.com

10 The Sunday Times Style

JACQUEMUS

●BLUE Navy blue is the easiest way to step into colour.

Go for bold stripes to break up the look.

Style Equation

●TANGERINE Orange overload is less scary than it looks.

Come summer, satsuma shades will make for a delicious holiday wardrobe. Just add a healthy tan.

●GREEN

REX, GETTY

Khaki is a flattering, smart alternative to your usual black that will work for the office, too. Lime accessories add a pop of bright colour.

GABRIELA HEARST

TIBI

Oversized shirt, £69; cosstores.com. Vegan leather trousers, £360, Nanushka; mytheresa.com. Slingbacks, £230; byfar.com

Hoops, £95, Lucy Williams x Missoma; missoma.com.

Boiler suit, £135; arket.com. Bag, £47, Baggu; trouva.com.

Boots, £89; topshop.com

The Sunday Times Style

11

THE NEW BLUE From the sustainable brands to shop to the trends to try and the cuts to suit everyone – Henrik Lischke has your spring denim cheat sheet

THESHAPES SHAPES THE THE BOILER SUIT Looking to save precious time in the morning? The denim boiler suit is your gettingdressed-quick fix. Easy to wear, it works best with heavy-duty boots or a pair of clogs for that 1970s vibe.

Denim boiler suit, £180; lfmarkey.com

THE KICK-FLARE Celine’s 24-strong line-up of flares might have finally rung the death knell for skinnies.

Match with your favourite long-sleeve shirt and ankle boots, or go for Breton stripes if Jane Birkin is your style inspiration.

Flared jeans, £45; riverisland.com

THE 1980s LIFT The latest style from Levi’s are Balloon jeans, which drop in stores next month. This 1980s-inspired design ticks several boxes: curved leg, high waist, tapered leg. Wear with tucked-in knitwear.

Balloon jeans, £95; levi.com

1960s

1970s

1980s

SIX DECADES OF DENIM From the uniform of 1950s teen rebellion to double denim on the red carpet 1950s

12 The Sunday Times Style

1960s

1970s

REX, ALAMY, GETTY, COURTESY OF PEPSI, MARILYN MONROE IN MISFITS/YOUTUBE, JONATHAN PACIULLO

D

enim remains one of the most searchedfor fashion items — according to Lyst, there are 13 jeans searches a second — and yet that perfect pair is as elusive as ever. So what’s new for 2020?

Sustainable denim is top of the agenda, with page views on Lyst for eco-brands almost trebling over the past year.

Designer denim is making a comeback, too, with the likes of Chanel and Balenciaga sending jeans down the SS20 catwalks. And while Céline Dion’s asymmetric Ksenia Schnaider jeans may have broken the internet last June, there are plenty of risk-free options too. The silhouette of the season is Celine’s can’t-gowrong flares. Here is our guide to the denim shapes, names and styles to know.

Style Denim

THETRENDS TRENDS THE

THE CANADIAN TUXEDO (YES, REALLY) It’s almost two decades since Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake did quadruple denim on the red carpet.

But come spring, the Canadian tuxedo will be infiltrating our wardrobes again, as seen at Bottega Veneta, Gucci and Brandon Maxwell. Keep both halves in a similar wash, and give the cowboy hat a hard pass.

GIVENCHY

STELLA McCARTNEY

DAY-OFF DENIM From tie-dye prints at Isabel Marant and Dior to retina-searing denim sets at Balmain and paisley patterns at Etro, print denim is everywhere. It’s best worn with a plain T-shirt — consider this amped-up weekend dressing.

1990s

DIOR 2000s

1990s

2000s

PHILOSOPHY DI LORENZO SERAFINI

HOUSE OF HOLLAND

1990s

ETRO

CUT-OFF SHORTS We aren’t suggesting a pair of bum-skimming Daisy Dukes, rather their more grown-up, gamine sister. Hitting right on or just above the knee and paired with a stripy sweater, these are peak French Riviera.

Wear with strappy sandals or two-tone mary-janes.

BOTTEGA VENETA

BRANDON MAXWELL

SAINT LAURENT

CHANEL

THE ‘MOM’ SKIRT The boho denim skirt of the early Noughties has had a sharp reinvention thanks to Celine and Givenchy. Worn with a blazer, it’s a surprisingly convincing office look. Want something less twee? Tuck in a jumper instead. Either way, long boots should be your footwear of choice.

TRUE BLUE If you’re overwhelmed by the denim colour spectrum, opt for true blue. Look to House of Holland, APC and Philosophy di Lorenzo Serafini for inspiration.

Keep things simple with a crisp shirt. Madonna would approve.

The Sunday Times Style

13

STILL HERE

WARP + WEFT

CIE DENIM @ciedenim WHAT New York-based Cie Denim uses reworked denim only, revamping it into jeans, jackets, tops and bags.

WHY This is not your regular pair of jeans — the “upside down” style is already popular with the A-list. Gigi Hadid’s favourite? The Jessica.

Jessica jeans, £180; ciedenim.com

THE THEBRANDS BRANDSTO TOKNOW KNOW OUTERKNOWN @outerknown WHAT Outerknown, created by the professional surfer Kelly Slater, is now producing jeans in the “world’s cleanest denim facility” as part of its Social Environmental Accountability program.

WHY The jeans are made from 100% organic cotton, and the brand offers free repairs.

Strand high-rise jeans, £123; outerknown.com

DECADE @decade_studio WHAT Made from 100% Better Cotton Initiative certified cotton, Decade’s denim trousers and jackets are hand-produced by a family-run team in Portugal.

WHY Decade jeans are fully repairable and recyclable.

Bonnie jeans, £143; decadestudio.com

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OUTERKNOWN

WARP + WEFT @warpweftworld WHAT Founded in 2016, the American brand Warp + Weft is moving the needle in the denim industry with its focus on inclusivity and sustainability.

WHY With sizes ranging from US 00 to 24 (UK 4-28), Warp + Weft jeans are made for all body shapes.

Production takes place in a partially solar-powered mill.

Skinny jeans, £75; warpweftworld.com

STILL HERE @stillherenewyork WHAT Still Here jeans are vintage-inspired, designed in New York and sustainably produced in Los Angeles.

WHY Each pair features details such as hand-painted stripes and hand-stitched embroidery.

Rainbow Tate cropped jeans, £290, Still Here; net-a-porter.com

Style Denim

FRANK AND OAK

ESSENTIEL ANTWERP @essentielantwerp WHAT For spring/summer, the Belgian brand has teamed up with a sustainable denim manufacturer.

WHY Skirts or jeans in true blue or sorbet hues — both Insta- and eco-friendly.

From January 27. Pink jeans, £150; essentiel-antwerp.com

JOHN LEWIS AND/OR @johnlewisandpartners WHAT John Lewis launched its in-house denim brand And/Or in 2017. Now it is introducing sustainable denim made from organic cotton and recycled polyester.

WHY All And/Or denim will carry an Environmental Impact Measurement grading to promote transparency.

Boyfriend jeans, £89, And/Or; johnlewis.com

JOHN LEWIS AND/OR

HIUT DENIM @hiutdenim WHAT Thanks to the Duchess of Sussex wearing a pair of its organic jeans last year, Hiut has been able to expand its operation in Cardigan, south Wales.

WHY The last time Meghan wore a pair, waiting times went up to three months.

Add to basket now.

Peggy jeans, £195; hiutdenim.co.uk

LEVI’S @levis WHAT What’s better than a classic? A classic with a conscience.

WHY Levi’s new collaboration with Co-op Porto Alegre is made from recycled denim products, with the proceeds supporting the co-operative’s work with refugees and asylum-seekers.

Tote, £40, and pouch, £25, Levi’s x Co-op Porto Alegre; levi.com

FRANK AND OAK @frankandoak WHAT The Canadian label Frank and Oak is committed to product longevity and circularity — using recycled textiles and green techniques.

WHY It uses the hydro-less process of producing denim, which consumes 95% less water than traditional methods.

Nina jeans, £80; frankandoak.com

The Sunday Times Style

15

WHAT DID YOU SAY Everybody’s talking, but increasingly we are too busy, too distracted or too set in our ways to listen to each other.

Now a new book promises to show us how to really tune in.

Charlotte Edwardes, whose job as an interviewer is to pay attention, heeds the call Originally this was supposed to be a piece by both my partner, who works in TV news, and me about listening to each other. Like me, he does interviews, although on a far grander scale, wearing make-up and hairspray and a tie chosen by his “wardrobe mistress” in a studio with 1,000-watt halogen lights beaming down, as his image, alongside whichever politician is seated by the desk next to him, is blasted across the country.

He happily agreed to do his bit, then, not long before the deadline, asked: “What was the piece about?” Listening, I said. “Oh,” he said guiltily, “I haven’t been very good at that recently.” He had noticed, he said, family getting annoyed because he would ask them to repeat even basic things. “I listen hard when gathering news, but then when home I’ll switch off.” It’s not a coincidence that he is a broadcaster, perhaps.

We were to be using as our reference point the book You’re Not Listening by Kate Murphy, a New York Times journalist who explores the extent to which we are losing this most crucial, arguably, of our skills in the modern world, where the onslaught of technology in its myriad forms drowns out the simple art of uninterrupted face-to-face engagement with those around us.

For research Murphy spoke to a range of excellent listeners, among them a CIA chief interrogator, a psychotherapist, a lead negotiator, barmen, a priest.

As a practised interviewer, she was aware of how much the world is listening less. Not only were her subjects pouring out more personal stories — irrelevant, often, to the interview — so grateful were they for an engaged audience, she found herself at dinners thinking: why am I here, when everyone is on their phones? “It has been hilarious when I tell people I have a book coming out,” she says. “They say, ‘What was the title again?’ ”

16 The Sunday Times Style

VICTORIA ADAMSON, JASON LLOYD-EVANS

Style Relationships

Certainly, I’ve also noticed interviewees grateful to be heard.

One man said he was sad when I said goodbye: “This has felt like therapy.” A woman — after talking nonstop for five hours — said that she was astonished at what she had told me.

Indeed, I’ve often been surprised by what people were prepared to admit: the broadcaster Jon Snow told me he thought, fleetingly, about sleeping with every woman he met — “Sex comes into every evaluation of a woman, there is no doubt about it” — while Michael Heseltine revealed that he had choked his mother’s Alsatian unconscious.

In some social situations I’ve restrained my innate curiosity, nervous of that tiresome accusation: “Be careful, she’s a journalist.” But I’ve also had moments of being a terrible listener, usually when I am stressed or obsessing about my own life.

I cringe about it afterwards. My children would argue that when I have been consumed by work, they have struggled to be heard. The net result, inevitably, is not good.

As for my partner, when he is uncommunicative, it’s funny how much I have (correctly) picked up from the unsaid.

Instinct, you might call it. But as Murphy points out, 55% of listening comes from non-verbal cues: picking up information from someone’s emphasis, sighs, murmurs or gestures — such as, say, a hand to the mouth, hunched shoulders, tapping fingers, darting eyes — and even their silences.

Yes, moments of silence: we need to learn to tolerate these, Murphy says. She cites a study that found Japanese businesspeople happily withstood silences for nearly twice as long as Americans: 8.2 seconds versus 4.6 seconds. “People get extremely uncomfortable when there are gaps in conversation,” she writes. But “riding the silence”, as we called the process with one laconic boss, rather than filing it with revealing waffle, is good discipline. A member of Theresa May’s government told me that the former prime minister was prone to long silences in cabinet. Ministers would grip the table to endure these awkward pauses, but they were telling of her state of mind. (Invariably, the minister said, there would be someone who couldn’t withstand them, “usually Boris”.)

Also resonant is Murphy’s assertion that “hearing is not listening”. Companies who teach employees to demonstrate that they’ve heard — either by repeating back or physically leaning in — are missing the essential point: actual engagement. Murphy puts this in a social context, demonstrating the difference between what she calls “the support response” over “the shift response”. An example of “support”, she says, is when you ask someone to elaborate on what they have told you; “shift” is when you answer with a situation that you have been in that is similar.

Not listening hurts society. Murphy quotes an America-wide survey of students conducted by the Brookings Institution that found that 51% thought it “acceptable” to shout down a speaker because they disagreed with them. Politicians who boast they are not friends with those on the opposite benches do nothing to help understanding, nor does anyone screaming abuse on social media. While some people are born more attuned and sensitive, she says “everyone can learn to be a better listener”.

I’ll be adopting Murphy’s advice. No phones at table will be a new rule, and I will be employing “support” responses everywhere. ▪ @chedwardes

HOW TO BE A GOOD LISTENER IN SMALL TALK Peppering people with appraising and personal questions such as “What do you do for a living?”, “What part of town do you live in?”, “What school did you go to?” or “Are you married?” is interrogating.

It makes people reflexively defensive and will probably shift the conversation into a superficial résumé recitation or self-promoting elevator pitch.

Listening for things you have in common and gradually building a rapport is the way to engage with anyone. Beware, too, of questions that contain hidden assumptions. Instead of “What made you decide to become a sociologist?”, better to ask “How did it happen that you became a sociologist?”

IN RELATIONSHIPS While you might think you’d be more likely to listen to a loved one than a stranger, in fact the opposite is often true. According to the psychologist Judith Coché, people in long-term relationships tend to lose their curiosity about each other. Not necessarily in an unkind way; they just become convinced they know each other better than they do. It’s called the closeness communication bias.

As wonderful as intimacy and familiarity are, they make us complacent. It doesn’t matter how long you have known or how well you think you know people, if you stop listening, you will eventually lose your grasp of who they are and how to relate to them.

IN HARD TIMES Say a friend tells you that he just lost his job.

Responses such as “I’m sorry you lost your job” or “You’ll find another job soon” come off as trite and dismissive. And saying, “You think that’s bad? When I got laid off …” makes it all about you. Being aware of someone’s troubles does not mean you need to fix them. Usually people aren’t looking for solutions from you anyway, they just want a sounding board.

Moreover, you shut people down when you start telling them what they should do or how they should feel. Try to understand what the person is facing and appreciate how it feels. This in itself can lead to solutions. © Kate Murphy 2020. Extracted from You’re Not Listening: What You’re Missing & Why It Matters

by Kate Murphy, published on January 23 (Harvill Secker £16.99)

The Sunday Times Style

17

Do you know how much your partner spends each month? Or what they spend it on? A new survey has found that, when it comes to money, 10% of couples don’t trust their significant other enough to have a joint account. Three households discuss their relationship pay gaps.

By Nicole Mowbray

SEX, LIES

AND JOINT ACCOUNTS THE ENGAGED MILLENNIALS Age Both 28 Location London Relationship status Together for four years, engaged Occupation Advertising (her), actor/waiter (him) Income £63,000 (her £45,000, him £18,000) Debt £3,900 on credit cards (hers) Savings £0 MONTHLY OUTGOINGS Rent £1,300 Bills and utilities £400 Taxis/Uber £400 Socialising £600 Fitness £90 Cigarettes £80 HER Although my boyfriend and I have been engaged for 18 months, a wedding isn’t on the horizon soon — we can’t really afford it. Our priority is to buy a house together, but we haven’t got a deposit saved yet either, which is a cause of arguments.

My boyfriend doesn’t like that I spend my earnings, but he also doesn’t have a job that would enable him to contribute to savings. Our financial inequality means we divide household bills in terms of portions of our salary: I pay two-thirds of our monthly outgoings and he pays the other third.

I know he thinks I’m bad with money — I never have anything left at the end of the month — but as the only one with cash to speak of, I tend to be the person to pop to Sainsbury’s to pick up washing powder, etc. Any trips or festivals that we go on are paid for by me, with no

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questions asked. So I do end up spending a lot more on our joint outgoings than I perhaps get credit for.

HIM My girlfriend and I argue about money a lot. Mainly because I have none, yet I’m still better with what I have than she is — and she earns nearly three times more than me. She is always coming home with Asos packages or & Other Stories bags, instead of saving to buy a house or for our wedding. It’s a real bone of contention.

The credit-card debt on our monthly outgoings is hers because she went to Las Vegas on a friend’s hen do in 2018 and hasn’t started paying it off yet.

I’ve been brought up to save money and not spend unnecessarily, whereas my girlfriend has been brought up able to depend on the Bank of Mum and Dad — I don’t have that safety net. Her being the breadwinner doesn’t bother me in a “flipping the traditional gender roles” way (she has supported me through acting school and I am very grateful to her) — I just wish I earned more, so we could move forward with our lives on a more equal footing.

THE NEWLYWEDS WITH A BABY ON THE WAY Age 34 (her) and 38 (him) Location London Relationship status Married for 18 months, with a baby on the way Occupation Business manager for a travel company (her), sales for a medical tech company (him) Income £140,000 (her £45,000, him £95,000), plus variable bonus in the region of £30,000

Style Relationships Debt £0 Savings £16,000 Investments £20,000 Extras £10,000 a year from renting out second property MONTHLY OUTGOINGS Mortgage £2,500 (two flats, one rented out) Bills and utilities £500 Travel £300 Taxis/Uber £100 Socialising £900 Fitness £100 HER My husband is a bit older than me, so when we first met he already liked “the finer things in life” — eating at nice restaurants, far-flung holidays, designer clothes.

Keeping up with him stretched my finances. When I moved in to his flat, he offered to pay the majority of the bills, while I picked up some of the smaller outgoings.

In the beginning it made me feel inferior, but now I can’t see a way I could ever match what my husband earns.

Financially, it makes sense for me to try and get reduced working hours while the baby is young, as there will be the cost of childcare to consider. It feels old-fashioned, which is infuriating, but it’s the only way we can work it out. My husband will likely have to give me “pin money” when I’m on maternity leave, too, as the remuneration package isn’t generous.

HIM I earn a lot more than my wife, which hasn’t ever been a sore point for me. I never think of her as a “kept woman” — we’re a team. We’ve never fought about money, but I know she would hate to feel dependent on me financially, so I try to be thoughtful with the language I use when we talk about it.

I do feel a huge sense of responsibility to keep a roof over our heads, which sometimes causes me sleepless nights. This feeling also colours my thoughts about shared parental leave. To be honest I haven’t even inquired about it — although I know my wife would like me to — because I need to keep my job as stable as possible, especially with another mouth to feed.

THE MARRIED COUPLE WITH ONE SON Age 46 (her) and 49 (him) Location Rugby, Warwickshire Relationship status Married for four years, with one grown-up son from a previous marriage Occupation Freelance graphic designer (her), lawyer (him) Income £140,000 (her £30,000, him £110,000) Debt £0 Savings £100,000 inheritance, invested (hers)

MARTA BEVACQUA/TRUNK ARCHIVE

MONTHLY OUTGOINGS Mortgage £500 Bills and utilities £700 Travel £150 a week (her), £10,000 a year for Rugby-London trains (him) Socialising £500 Fitness and beauty £250 (her) Golf £100 (him) Pets £100 HER I moved out of London to live with my husband when we met seven years ago. My mum passed away shortly after, and then I was made redundant from my well-paid staff job at a creative agency. I haven’t found another full-time job since then, so now I work on sporadic short-term contracts. It’s pretty hard to budget for this kind of lifestyle.

Consequently I would say I’m terrible with money, and my husband would agree. It’s a big cause of rows between us. I have no savings I can access, and constantly spend much more than I earn, meaning my husband has to supplement my income. He gets annoyed that I still like

to go to a good hairdresser in London to get my colour done, or that I go for a sports massage at the gym every few weeks. I guess that’s the lifestyle I was used to when I worked full-time. I have found it hard to give that up. It’s definitely linked to my self-esteem, which has taken a hit over the past decade.

HIM I wish I could say my wife was good with money, but her financial radar is way off and it’s the biggest cause of discord in our married life. She’s constantly buying items she can’t afford and hiding them from me, then asking to borrow money for things like lunch out with a friend or a trip to the shop for food. I have no idea how much she spends, as her earnings don’t go into a joint account.

I try not to resent it, but covering all the outgoings from my salary means it fast disappears. In the early days of our relationship I paid off her credit-card debt twice, which was nearly £20,000.

Of course I love her to bits, and we can laugh about it from time to time, but it’s a serious issue. We’ve invested her inheritance specifically so she can’t touch it. I would like more equality in our relationship. Last year I even had to loan her the money to buy my own Christmas present. ▪

HOW TO LIVE IN FINANCIAL HARMONY

by Alex Holder, author of Open Up: Why Talking About Money Will Change Your Life Accept everyone is different Money habits are shaped by the age of seven. How our parents spent money, social class and childhood experiences all affect how we manage money as an adult. Understanding that — and bar extremes such as gambling addiction — there’s no right or wrong way to enjoy money. There are positives to being a spender and to being a saver, so don’t expect your partner to manage their money exactly as you do.

Don’t only talk about money when it’s stressful Make sure you have calm conversations about money, rather than only ever arguing about it. Being able to make financial plans together is an important part of being a team. Try setting aside time to discuss money when there isn’t the trigger of something like an unexpected bill or an invitation to a wedding on the other side of the world.

Maintain financial autonomy Ensuring that both people have autonomy over the household finances is paramount. Whether you earn more or less than your partner, both of you should know how much you spend on necessities such as rent, bills, childcare and food. Letting your partner “do all the money stuff” silences you in big decisions such as where to live.

Go Dutch on debt If you’re not married, any debt taken out in your name is your responsibility. Even if breaking up feels like an impossibility, shouldering the relationship’s debt — say, always booking flights on your credit card — is a huge financial burden. Where possible, make sure you are both responsible for any debt you accrue together.

@AlexandreHolder

The Sunday Times Style

19

Do you need reminders to tell your partner that you love them? Or a quiz to reveal how much – or little – you know about each other? As a host of new apps launch to help couples navigate their love life, three writers and their partners try them out

CAN AN APP HELP YOUR RELATIONSHIP? COUPLE GAME (free with in-app purchases) How it works The app pits couples in a quiz to find out how well they know each other.

What it claims A wrong answer is an opportunity to know your partner even better.

RACHEL JOHNSON It was — sigh — my husband’s birthday. Time for something new, if not blue. We agreed to try out a relationship app on the “anything once” principle. Couple Game offers three free quizzes, then you have to pay 99p per quiz. “Shall we go for it and do Sex & Intimacy 1,” I said. “It’s one of the free ones.”

“But we don’t do that,” replied my old-fashioned English husband, lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. “You’re right,” I agreed. “Date Night?”

“We don’t do that either.”

In the end, we did Sex & Intimacy. Questions ranged from “How difficult is it for you to achieve an orgasm?” to “How long should foreplay last?” It was hard to pick an answer as there was no option for “the whole thing should last no more than five minutes, tops”. It

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turned out we didn’t know each other very well, apart from travel preferences, and that we both hate tattoos and bad breath. We laughed a lot (that’s surely worth the bother), but I’m not sure this app works as an intimacy enhancement in settled, long-term relationships.

Ivo “won” the game and suggested as his “prize” a sexual practice that I would never do in the first year of marriage, let alone the 27th.

IVO DAWNAY No doubt they will have an app for shaving soon. That said, Couple Game really takes the biscuit. Here’s a sample question: “What was the first thing you noticed about Rachel?” The choices ran from her eyes to her body to her smile. The true answer was: “She kept persistently ringing me up.” In fact, she was a sort of romantic nuisance caller. Couple Game didn’t offer that option.

However, there were some benefits to the app. For example, I learnt that Rachel wouldn’t mind travelling to an “exotic location” soon — something I am always dying to do. Couple Game is best suited for a very new couple who have just met on Tinder and need fresh “intimacy info” fast, like salary, prospects, real age and height. For the two careful owners of a 26-year-old marriage (a few scratches on the bodywork but, despite the heavy mileage, a reasonably good runner), Couple Game is about as useful as a charge account at Victoria’s Secret.

Style Relationships LIFECOUPLE (free) How it works The app brings gamification to couples counselling, awarding points for good relationship behaviour and sending alerts on the areas that need work.

What it claims It offers solutions to address “any challenges” in your relationship.

LOTTE JEFFS Last Sunday morning, my phone pinged to tell me I had been awarded 100 relationship points by my wife, Jen. I’d been up with our 17-month-old daughter since 6.30am and Jen had been having a four-hour lie-in.

“Quite right,” I said to myself, even if the sentiment came as a “deposit” in my Emotional Bank Account rather than with a kiss. Historically I have always responded pathetically well to star charts, so the positive feedback worked for me. But the app also made me feel anxious, question my worth and miss the way things were. Normally it all feels happy and fair because we communicate like healthy adults. If things are out of balance, we instinctively fix it. We met in 2010 at a work event and were friends before splitting up with our exes; we’ve now been together for nine years and married for three. People think it’s strange that we never argue, but, honestly, we just see the best in each other. Were that not the case, this app could have really messed things up.

Comparing our scores on conflict actually caused an argument. The app features a video called How to Fix a Relationship That Is Falling Apart, which advises laughing regularly to avoid negative chain reactions.

The cringy images made sure of that. This app is not for people like us. It’s reductive and heterocentric, and the no-frills advice — “Leave your partner a sweet Post-it note”, “Make a reservation at a restaurant” — is basic AF.

ADRIAN SAMSON/TRUNK ARCHIVE

JENNY SOUTHAN “Every 34 seconds, a marriage falls to divorce,” the LifeCouple website states, with a digital countdown ominously tick-tocking above it. I was sceptical from the outset. The Relationship Toolkit included “digital gifts”, where you can choose pictures of flowers, luxury cars and beaches to send to your partner, and captions such as “Let’s start dreaming again” and “You are my cuddle honey”. I sent Lotte one of a topless man and woman romping on the floor. She replied with the eye-roll emoji. You can also send admonishing picture messages. There’s one of a psychotic-looking kitten with a caption that reads: “Hope this image shows how upset I am. If it does not, this app allows me to drop a shit storm of others to follow.”

I started to feel like I was in an episode of Black Mirror.

With no human mediator, LifeCouple quickly started bringing out the worst in us and revealing issues we didn’t know we had.

LOVE NUDGE (free) How it works It encourages couples to send loving “nudges” to each other, and tracks progress by awarding points to the “love tank”.

What it claims It will bring couples closer together so they “really connect”.

FLORA GILL I receive the familiar ping.

“Reminder: SAY ‘I LOVE YOU.’ ” I open WhatsApp and message the boyfriend. “F*** off,” he replies. Adam and I have been together for 10 years, having met and first bonded at university. Now nearly 30, we’re at the age of weddings every weekend and friends being woken by screaming infants, but Adam and I will still happily talk all night and watch crappy telly until dawn.

(Note: the secret to couple bliss is separate duvets.)

I use apps for my transport and my diary, so why not use one to help our relationship? Some of the nudges are nice enough (“make cookies”, “go on a picnic”), but many — “eye contact while talking” and “touch shoulder” — feel awkward to be reminded of. Of the 80 options, only one is sexual: “initiate intimate evening”. Mostly, though, love feels hollow when it’s a servile reaction. When Adam walked across the room and held my face in hands as instructed, I didn’t feel loved, I felt like a chore. “F*** off,” I told him.

ADAM VALLANCE Flora and I met at our college bop. It was an alphabet party, so I went as Adam (Flora thinks this was an excuse to keep my top off) and Flora went as a fish. It made me laugh, and want to make her laugh, too.

My expectations of this app were low, but like all people in a long-term relationship, I agreed to do it on the implicit condition that I am now owed a favour.

The app starts with a survey to reveal your “love language”, ie, whether I care more about having my hand held or my partner doing the dishes. I notice Flora’s lunch still in the sink. Flora is not tidy, in the same way Piers Morgan is not a supermodel. I select all the chore options, and the app tells me my love language is “acts of service”.

After a fortnight of “rest hand on back” and “give compliment” reminders, the app felt redundant, which I guess is a good thing. I can see Love Nudge being helpful for couples who have forgotten to do the little things that let your partner know they’re loved. I don’t need a daily reminder to stare into my partner’s eyes.

What I do need is for Flora to clean her bloody dishes if she expects me to fill up her “love tank” ever again. ▪

The Sunday Times Style

21

The return of

THE

JUNE 2010. In a bland business hotel on the outskirts of Birmingham, hundreds of lesbian and bisexual women were beside themselves with anticipation, waiting for the actresses Kate Moennig and Leisha Hailey to arrive. They had paid £95 for a ticket to The L Word Convention, three days of fervent fandom celebrating the hit show about the glamorous lives of queer women in LA, which ran for six series, from 2004-09, on the US network Showtime. This was their chance to meet its stars. I was there to report on the event, and while a fan of The L Word myself (name a gay woman who wasn’t), the rampant fawning that greeted Moennig, who played sexy heartbreaker Shane, and Hailey, who played goofy but lovable Alice, when they stepped onto a small stage in the hotel’s conference room was terrifying.

There was screaming and crying, and at the meet-and-greet photo op later in the day I saw one woman literally throw herself at their feet. The actresses looked overwhelmed.

In the queer community, they were superstars commanding Madonna-level mania — never mind that Hailey was the only “out” woman in the main cast and Moennig refused to discuss her personal life. The other core cast members were all openly straight. It was the first time I’d ever seen glamorous, sexy, successful gay women depicted on screen, and that was transformative in a way that’s hard to explain to a heterosexual person who takes culture’s constant validation of their lifestyle for granted. Now, after a decade-long hiatus during which gay marriage was legalised in 28 countries, including America and Britain, The L Word is back, renamed for a new decade as The L Word: Generation Q. I still remember the rush of pride and excitement I felt when I first saw the adverts for the original show on the side of London buses. Beautiful women were holding hands and looking suggestively at each other. Being a lesbian seemed really cool, for the first time ever. Until The L Word, which featured incredibly attractive characters living affluent lives in LA, gay women on TV made for grim viewing. They were often miserable, persecuted and killed off before you could get too attached.

Shane (Kate Moennig), Bette (Jennifer Beals) and Alice (Leisha Hailey) are back

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The original show smashed boundaries, inspired feverish adoration and put lesbians centre stage on mainstream TV for the first time.

As a reboot heads to our screens, Lotte Jeffs asks what kind of impact it can have in 

WORD The L Word was fun and fluffy. There were some deaths — poor Dana! — but on the whole it was an upbeat drama, the lesbian Sex and the City. And it was as influential in our community as Carrie and her crew were for straight women in the early Noughties. It spawned cultish devotion; fashion trends (white shirt, blazer, skinny black tie); in-jokes (“who killed Jenny Schecter?”); references (“Betty!” “The chart”); and even haircuts (the “Shane”). If you know, you know.

Carrie Lyell is the editor-in-chief of Diva, the UK’s only newsstand magazine for queer women. “For years we’d foraged for crumbs of representation in other TV programmes and films, so to be given not just a slice, but the whole cake, was quite incredible,” she says. “The show holds a special place in our hearts.”

And what of the new version? Three of the original cast members — Moennig (now happy to talk about being queer), Hailey and Jennifer Beals, who played iconic power lesbian Bette, are joined by a new ensemble of characters, including a Chinese trans gay man, a Latina couple and a masculine-of-centre white lesbian, better reflecting today’s diversity of LGBTQIA+ identities.

I spoke to Beals, perhaps best known outside lesbian culture as the lead in 1980s classic Flashdance, who is also one of the producers of Generation Q, about how much has changed since we last saw Bette on screen. “When we went off air, there were no conversations in pop culture about this

Style Culture

ALAMY, REX, SHUTTERSTOCK, © 2019 SHOWTIME NETWORKS INC

The original L Word, with Mia Kirshner (second left); the death of her character, Jenny Schecter, will finally be resolved

tectonic rerendering of gender identification and sexual orientation,” she says. “Now the language of self is so different. With the introduction of they/them pronouns, the lexicon of beingness in the realm of sexuality is ripping at the seams as it tries to keep up with people’s experience.”

One of the big criticisms of the original show was that it didn’t represent enough LGBTQIA+ diversity. But, back in 2004, there was a limited vocabulary for being a lesbian.

You were either “butch” or “femme”. Like Shane, my icon, I was something in between: boyish swagger, androgynous fashion, partial to a bit of smoky black eyeliner. My girlfriend and I had been refused entry to lesbian bars for looking too feminine. The L Word made us feel seen, as never before. We devoured every episode and bought each series on DVD so we could watch it again and again. But some gay women and trans people felt less well served by the show.

The problem was, without enough gay stories across media, there was an unreasonable pressure on a single piece of work to represent everyone. Now queer voices and narratives are ever more prevalent, creating space for every iteration of otherness to coexist in art and culture. And Generation Q is doing its best to bring together as many of these identities as it can. This time around it also features more queer and trans actors. I ask Beals if this was a deliberate response to disappointment that the original series’ cast was predominantly straight. “When someone comes in to audition,” she says, “it is not your place to ask them if they are gay. It is also illegal.”

I ask Beals why this is the right time to bring back The L Word. “When we went off the air, we expected something to take its place right away,” she says. “Orange Is the New Black occupied some of that space really beautifully, but nothing was a lesbian-centric show. Then, after the 2016 election, we realised we had to do something, because with such a divisive administration the LGBTQ community would be attacked. It was important not only to give the community visibility and therefore agency and a sense of self-worth, but also to give people who are not a part of the community a different lens for viewing LGBTQ issues.”

My life has changed immeasurably since I watched the last episode in 2009. I left a decade-long relationship with one woman, fell in love with another, got married, had a child with her and built a successful career. I went from a Shane to a Bette. The returning characters in the show have equally had a lot of “life” happen to them. Bette is mother to a teenager and running for mayor, Shane has made a ton of money and flies in on a private jet, bedding the air hostess en route, obviously, and Alice is the

host of her own chat show. “We wanted to maintain the aspirational aspect,” Beals says. “It’s more like a rebel yell than a reboot. It’s not just, ‘Let’s have a nostalgic reacquaintance with these old characters.’”

This season opens with a sex scene depicting something I certainly have never seen in such a context on screen before (periods). It’s shocking, but The L Word always was.

The pilot opened with Bette and her “life partner” Tina making a baby with a random man’s sperm. Such a thing felt impossibly daring in 2004; now all my friends are at it.

So, to continue to push boundaries, the new show had to address our last remaining taboos.

Generation Q crams a lot of issues into its first three episodes: from racism to the opioid crisis, Time’s Up to the menopause. It would feel a bit like homework if it wasn’t for the sex and the LA glamour and fabulous trouser suits. It must be said that the show has finally found its fashion sense, or maybe it’s more that, since 2004, we all have.

I wonder if the show will mean as much to young LGBTQIA+ women as it did to my generation. Probably not, because we now live in a world in which lesbian love stories are winning Oscars, supermodels and Hollywood actresses walk the red carpet with their girlfriends, one of the world’s biggest-selling pop stars (Sam Smith) identifies as non-binary, and social media gives a platform to every underrepresented community to tell their own story. But I’ll be eagerly watching and probably rewatching every episode of The L Word: Generation Q with my wife, both of us still secretly swooning over Shane. ▪ @lottejeffs The L Word: Generation Q launches on February 4 on Sky Atlantic and Now TV, with all episodes available on demand

In Generation Q, Bette (Beals) is standing for mayor of LA

The Sunday Times Style

23

SEXISM AND THE START-UP

When Anna Wiener got a job in Silicon Valley aged 25, she hit a wall of misogyny – and the men behind the billion-dollar start-ups were more insecure than she had anticipated. She charts the sexual politics of this new industry Illustration Amrita Marino

T

he men on my team at the start-up wore Australian work boots and flannel and durable, recycled-polyester athletic vests; they drank energy shots in the late afternoon and popped vitamin D in the mornings to stay focused and alert. They sucked on powdered Swedish tobacco, packing it juicily behind their gums. Deep house and EDM leaked from their oversized headphones. After nights spent drinking, they were prone to pounding a viscous liquid jacked up with electrolytes — sold as a remedy for small children with diarrhoea — to flush away their hangovers. I was employee number 20, and the fourth woman.

These men weren’t like the ones I had worked with before. Up until then, I had been living a fragile but agreeable life as an assistant at a small literary agency in Manhattan. But my job was running its course: there was no room to grow, I was on $30,000 (about £23,000) and the voyeuristic thrill of answering someone else’s phone had worn thin. I travelled to San Francisco in the spring of 2013 for an interview for a customer-support position at a data-analytics start-up.

The start-up was doing well — we were always doing well. Our revenue graphs looked like cartoons of revenue graphs. The engineers had built an internal website where we could watch the money come in, in real time. We were hurtling towards a $1bn valuation; an IPO seemed not just inevitable, but imminent.

The message was clear and intoxicating: society valued our contributions and, by extension, us. I was 26 years old and within a year my salary jumped from $65,000 a year to $90,000.

Even so, the enemy of a successful start-up is complacency. To combat this, the CEO — who was 25 years old — liked to instil fear. He was not a formidable physical presence — he had gelled, spiky hair; he was slight; he often

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Style Memoir wore a green jacket indoors, presumably to fight the chill — but he could scare the hell out of us. He spoke in military terms. “We are at war,” he would say, standing in front of us with his arms crossed and his jaw tensed. Across the world, Syria and Iraq and Israel raged. We were at war with competitors, for market share. We would look down at our bottles of kombucha or orange juice and nod along gravely.

Being the only woman on a non-technical team, providing customer support to software developers, was like immersion therapy for internalised misogyny. I liked men — I had a brother, I had a boyfriend.

But men were everywhere: the customers, my teammates, my boss, his boss. I was always fixing things for them, tiptoeing around their vanities, cheering them up.

Affirming, dodging, confiding, collaborating; advocating for their career advancement; ordering them pizza. My job had placed me, a self-identified feminist, in a position of ceaseless, professionalised deference to the male ego.

The account management team brought in a man who spoke in inscrutable jargon and maintained a robust fleet of social media accounts; he had thousands of followers and behaved as if he were an influencer. He was constantly changing his job title on a website where people voluntarily posted their own résumés, giving himself promotions to positions that did not exist. He told us, with some reluctance, that he was in his early forties. Age discrimination was crazy in this industry, he said. Local cosmetic surgeons were making a mint.

The influencer brought a scooter into the office and rolled around barking into a wireless headset about growth hacking: value prop, first-mover advantage, proactive technology, parallelisation. One afternoon, he rolled up to my desk. “I love dating Jewish women,” he said. “You’re so sensual.” How did he know I was Jewish, I wondered. But of course he knew I was Jewish: large aquiline nose, gigantic cartoon eyeballs, eyelashes long enough to smash against the lenses of my glasses. I had the zaftig figure and ample rack characteristic of my sensual Ashkenazi kin. What did he want me to say, I wondered — thanks? Jewish people really value education, I mumbled.

I brought up the comment with my manager during one of our perambulating one-on-one check-ins. I wasn’t trying to get anyone in trouble, I said, as we walked past a sandwich shop effusing the artificial scent of bread, and the comment was not in and of itself so offensive — but I had to think about the influencer’s sexual proclivities in the middle of my workday, and I wanted not to do that. I felt guilty even mentioning it: my

manager didn’t want to think about his team member’s sexual proclivities either. He seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry that happened,” he said, staring at the sidewalk. “But you know him. That’s just who he is.”

S

exism, misogyny and objectification did not define the workplace, but they were everywhere. Like wallpaper; like air. From time to time the women in the office would go out to a nearby wine bar with fake fireplaces and plates of sweating charcuterie, and try to drink it out.

I enjoyed these outings, even if they bore the metallic taste of duty — less a support network than a mutual acknowledgment.

Other women I knew who worked in male-dominated offices all had unique coping strategies. Some took it as an opportunity to educate and course-correct.

Some liked to scare and shame their colleagues for unabashed sexism. Others enjoyed the power play of workplace flirtation. One friend told me she regularly made fun of her CEO for having a gigantic dick, which she had discovered after sleeping with him. “Just inhabit your sexual power,” she advised. “And use it to f *** with them.”

If I had any sexual power, I didn’t want to inhabit it in the office. I just wanted to keep up. I wanted the men on my team to think I was smart and in control, and never to imagine me naked. I wanted them to see me as an equal — I cared less about being accepted by men sexually than I did about being accepted, full stop. I wanted to avoid, at all costs, being the feminist killjoy.

As my annual review rolled around, I found myself on the fence about whether or not to bring up the running list of casual hostilities towards women that added texture to the workplace. Over email, I told my mother about the colleague with the smartwatch app that was just an animated gif of a woman’s breasts bouncing in perpetuity, and the comments I’d fielded about my weight, my lips, my clothing, my sex life. I told her about the list the influencer kept, ranking the most bangable women in the office.

It was tricky: I liked my co-workers, and I did my best to dish it back. I felt very protective of the CEO — or, at least, of my idea of him. At the age when I was getting drunk with friends on bottles of three-dollar merlot and stumbling into concerts, he was worrying about headcount, reading up on unit economics.

He was surrounded by people who were crushing it. Kingmakers. People who did not like to admit defeat.

All these boys, wandering around, nimble and paranoid and prone to extremes, pushing against the world until they found the parts that would bend to them. I assumed they had people to impress, parents to please, siblings to rival, rivals to beat. When the CEO’s family came to visit, he quickly toured them around the office. Your parents must be really proud of you, I said, as he came back to our cluster to answer emails. I knew that sentimentality was not his preferred emotional register. But I couldn’t help it — I felt a deep compassion towards him. I was proud of him, though I kept that to myself. The CEO only shrugged. “Maybe,” he said.

For a long time I harboured the belief that there was a yearning at the heart of entrepreneurial ambition, a tender dimension that no one wanted to acknowledge. Some spiritual aspect beneath the in-office yoga classes and meditation apps and selective stoicism and circular thought-leading. I assumed their true desires were relatable: community, or intimacy, to simply be loved and understood. I knew that building systems, and getting them to work, offered its own deep satisfaction, but I assumed everyone wanted more.

Later, I would mourn these conceits. Not only because this version of the future was constitutionally impossible — such arbitrary and unaccountable power was, after all, the problem — but also because I was looking for stories; I should have seen a system.

The young men of Silicon Valley were doing fine. They loved their industry, loved their work, loved solving problems. They had no qualms. They were builders by nature, or so they believed. They saw markets in everything, and only opportunities. They had inexorable faith in their own ideas and their own potential. They were ecstatic about the future. They had power, wealth and control. The person with the yearning was me. ▪ © Anna Wiener 2020. Extracted from Uncanny Valley: A Memoir by Anna Wiener, which is published on January 23 (HarperCollins £16.99)

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A MAGNIFICENT SECOND ACT Golden Globe winner, activist, mother of three: Gillian Anderson makes midlife look easy – and now she is reprising her role as the outrageous sex therapist Jean in Sex Education.

Lorraine Candy meets a woman in her prime Photographs Luca Campri Styling Maya Zepinic

26 The Sunday Times Style

THIS PAGE SHIRT, £720, THE ROW. BLAZER, £1,150, AND TROUSERS, £725, STELLA McCARTNEY OPPOSITE SHIRT, £99, BOSS

The Sunday Times Style

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THIS PAGE RIBBED JUMPER, £990, NINA RICCI. WOOL COAT, £1,030, ISABEL MARANT OPPOSITE POLONECK, £165, JOHN SMEDLEY. GABARDINE COAT, £2,125, PRADA

28 The Sunday Times Style

Style Interview

T

here is a moment in the second series of Netflix’s Sex Education when Gillian Anderson’s character, Jean, sighs a deep resigned sigh as she is lying in bed one morning and spots the messy pile of small change her latest lover, Jakob, has left on her bedside table.

It’s my favourite moment of this uplifting show about the tangled love lives of British secondary school teens that manages to appeal to both parents and adolescents alike. Anderson plays the outrageously inappropriate sex therapist Jean Milburn, a stylish, confident single mother.

The sight of those coins will resonate with any woman of Anderson’s age and stage of life (she is 51), whatever kind of relationship they are in.

These pennies, a symbol of how untidy life gets and the constant imposing presence of someone else even when they aren’t in the room, represent for Jean the gradual realisation that the excitement of a new love soon becomes tempered by the boring bits.

For those of us who have been married a while, the coins are perhaps the equivalent of the dull domesticity of picking up the shirt always dropped on the floor or the wet towels you always end up refolding after your teens have left them near but not on the bathroom radiator. Anderson and I chat about this a lot when we meet to talk about the second series of Sex Education, given that we are both working mothers in our early fifties.

The actress, who is most recognised for her role as Scully in The X-Files, is twice divorced and has three children, Piper, 25, Oscar, 13, Felix, 11, all of whom live with her in London. Her partner of three years is the playwright, screenwriter and creator of The Crown, Peter Morgan, himself a father of five.

In person Anderson is chatty and witty, aloof and friendly at the same time, a peculiarly feline trait that I often encounter in driven, confident women who have reached midlife. Tell me about Jakob and the coins, I say, what is it like starting a new relationship in your forties, compared with your twenties?

“It’s very different,” she says. “I think you are more fully formed, especially if you have taken time out of previous relationships to find yourself.

“Early on after the break-up of my last relationship and before my current one, somebody encouraged me to write a list of needs and wants in a future partner.

Needs are non-negotiable. If you go on a date with someone and realise they won’t meet, say, three of those needs, then they are not the person for you. It may last as a relationship, but it won’t make you happy. Wants are easier, not more frivolous per se, but easier to deliver.

Doing this made it clear to me going forward who would be good for me in a relationship.

“And there is a new creativity nowadays to what a relationship should look like, too. For instance, my partner and I don’t live together. If we did, that would be the end of us. It works so well as it is, it feels so special when we do come together. And when I am with my kids, I can be completely there for them. It’s exciting. We choose when to be together. There is nothing locking us in, nothing that brings up that fear of ‘Oh gosh, I can’t leave because

what will happen to the house, how will we separate?’.

I start to miss the person I want to be with, which is a lovely feeling. And it is so huge for me to be able to see a pair of trousers left lying on the floor at my partner’s house and to step over them and not feel it is my job to do something about it!”

I’ve never interviewed a celebrity who, even though she is wearing heels (little pointy white boots) is still shorter than me (I’m barely 5ft 2in), but Anderson is tiny. This is only important to note, I think, because her roles since Dana Scully have been so big and so powerful: Blanche in A Street Car Named Desire and Margo Channing in All About Eve on stage; Lady Mountbatten in the film Viceroy’s House; Stella Gibson in The Fall; and now Jean Milburn.

I wonder if she is perhaps filed under “tricky, unpredictable, charismatic, spiky, intelligent and fearless woman” in the casting director’s directory of suitable roles. After all, her next part is going to be Margaret Thatcher (in The Crown). And when she arrives for our chat in the closed Chinese restaurant of a central London hotel, she apologises for the sticky mess in

The Sunday Times Style

29

Style Interview

her hair caused by wearing the Iron Lady’s wig the previous day. Her nails are manicured pale pink like Thatcher’s too.

“She had a condition that meant two fingers of each hand would curl around — Reagan had it too — so it affected her gestures and she would wear lots of rings and bracelets to distract. But she kept her nails long, which is how I have to keep them now,” Anderson says. She is fascinated by Thatcher, concluding, after studying her childhood, that “nobody ever existed like her. She was unique.”

Anderson might be unique herself, and despite giving many interviews (three last year), I see that she has been smart and managed to remain a bit of an enigma. When I listen back to the tape, she is very good at general talk, but not so hot on specifics.

She spent her early years in north London with her American parents before going back to Michigan for high school. She was a teenage punk plagued by panic attacks that have continued to trouble her over the years, particularly during her intense work schedule on The X-Files. She went into therapy at 14, then became world famous at 25, and had her first child at 26 (the same age her parents had her, before going on to have her two siblings 12 years later). She split up with her first husband three years after that.

In 2011 she endured the death of her brother, Aaron, aged 30, from a brain tumour, which she rarely discusses.

She is an impressive activist, campaigning for a variety of issues including women’s rights in Afghanistan, Burma, South Africa, Uganda and South America.

There are 10 charities she has worked with listed on her website, and in 2017 she co-wrote We: A Manifesto for Women Everywhere, a well-received book of advice for women. She has also designed two small fashion collections for Winser London, which include some gorgeous silky blouses. I found I had three in my wardrobe without knowing they were hers.

She is a Bafta nominee and Golden Globe winner, and Neil Gaiman, who cast her in the TV series of his book American Gods, said: “She is in this strange place where everything exists in the shadow of Scully, yet she is bigger and better than that.”

When I listen to her 2003 Desert Island Discs, though, she tells a darker story. In between Radiohead and Jeff Buckley, she talks of troubled mental health that she has worked ferociously hard to improve. She has been in therapy for more than 30 years.

Anderson tells me she has been teetotal since her early twenties and despite some mild probing on my part is reluctant to elaborate on exactly why. I understand. She has soon-to-be teenage children who don’t need to know about any of the “dangerous things” she has done, as she described them to Sue Lawley.

I’m fascinated by Anderson and can see why she was the perfect person to cast as the quirky, funny therapist

30 The Sunday Times Style

‘After the break-up of my last relationship, somebody encouraged me to write a list of needs and wants in a future partner.

Needs are non-negotiable’

RIBBED JUMPER, £990, NINA RICCI. WOOL COAT, £1,030, ISABEL MARANT. BELT, £760, DIOR

Style Interview Jean in Sex Education, which really hits its stride in the second series. While still a comedy at heart, the subject matter tackled by its fantastic young cast is revelatory.

Sex Education is one of the first productions to hire an intimacy director to make the young actors feel comfortable and process what they were doing, often naked in front of multiple cameras, to be happy and authentic about what they did and feel they had input.

Anal sex, drugs, masturbation, STDs and nudity feature graphically in this show, which I would advise all parents and teens to watch, though not at the same time — only Jean would do that. When I interview Anderson I have yet to see the finale, but Jean’s journey is that of many women in the middle of their lives after divorce with teenage children.

“There’s a grief, isn’t there?” Anderson says as we discuss the menopause. “I haven’t quite got to the place where I don’t have my eggs, but your body is going to mourn that, isn’t it? I remember the very last time I breastfed and it was heartbreaking. I wept and wept through it.

“And I know people who describe particularly difficult periods at home without realising they are describing their mothers going through the menopause.

“We’re all at the point where we’re kicking off just as our teenage children are kicking off. I was looking at some home videos of Piper when she was three and wondering where all my patience came from in my twenties. I have forgotten that version of me.”

She says she doesn’t feel quite ready for her two boys to become teenagers, but sometimes Jean slips into their conversations at home.

“I find myself saying something embarrassing at the dinner table and I don’t know if it is me or if Jean has given me the licence to say that. Maybe I have always been that way, though. Some of what she shares is too much information. I wouldn’t share it, even with my eldest in her twenties. But my son came home after having a sex education class and I completely clammed up. I couldn’t bring myself to continue the conversation.

I just let it die. I really don’t know why.”

Over the years Anderson has tried to schedule her roles to fit in with her children, but like many of us who have devoted much of our time to careers, she still lives with nagging doubts about doing the right thing.

How did you deal with a small child while filming back-to-back episodes of The X-Files for 16 hours a day, I ask, especially when you decided to go it alone as a mum. “I missed her, really so much. Those moments when you see a small child in the street when you are apart from yours and the conversation just drops, it’s hard. She was on a plane a lot when she was six and we moved production to the West Coast. I justified that, I mean it was selfish on my part. I just could not imagine being away from her for long periods of time.

“I became obsessed with schedules, and I still am because of that time. I would plan and colour-code everything, make a series of propositions about schedules so I could see her, and the show would either reject or accept them.

32 The Sunday Times Style

‘I could have worked less, had a smaller life and been more present as a parent. I could have chosen that … but why would you?’

“With the boys the longest I have been away from them was during the two X-Files movies, but again I would be travelling constantly to see them.”

I ask her if she regrets working so hard. “Not yet,” she says. “I have a feeling that will come. I definitely feel like on a level I do regret Piper flying back [to her dad, when she was six] as an unaccompanied minor.” We sit in silence for a bit, mulling over the thought.

“But there’s another version of my life where I could have worked less, had a smaller life and been more present as a parent. I could have chosen that, that could happen.

But sometimes it feels like why would you, if you keep getting work as an actor, doing things you dreamt of doing and being offered incredible roles at this age, while paying the bills, and you still get to see them a huge percentage of the time and they witness a mother enjoying her work?”

She has talked to her daughter about it, but says Piper is not yet at the place where the lightbulb goes on and she realises Mum was still up at 6am the days she faced 16 hours of work to be with her, or those days we all have when we are still on the edge of the sports pitch, despite the demands of a job.

But Anderson is an all-or-nothing personality. She tells me she is either on a healthy eating plan, meditating and working out or hiding like a hermit at home eating chocolate. She has been plagued by frozen shoulders all her life, leading to months of pain-filled insomnia and cortisone injections.

“My default position is sedentary,” she tells me when I ask about her meditating and yoga right now. “I like being in bed in my PJs. When I’m working, like right now, I seem to exist mostly on chocolate. Then I go through a stage when I feel dreadful and I review it all and start a food plan, torture myself counting shots of milk and all that.

“In the cycle of all or nothing, I am in the nothing phase right now. It has gone on for quite some time, but I think I am better to be around. I was having lunch with my daughter and we were just, you know, eating, not asking for stuff without oils or sugar, and she said, ‘It’s so much better when you are not in that place.’ ” I’ve enjoyed my hour with Anderson; she is likeable and thoughtful. I sort of hope we’ll meet again one day.

It’s unlikely she’ll read the interview; she has said before that she rarely does. So what do I think as I walk away from her? I’m impressed by her curious nature and, obviously, her sense of style, a blueprint for us all at this stage of life, but mostly I’m inspired by her strong sense of self. It has obviously taken quite a bit of work for her to get there, but from what I can see, it has been worth it. ▪ @GillianA Sex Education series 2 is available on Netflix from Friday

BLAZER, £2,720, THE ROW. TROUSERS, £760, ALEXANDER McQUEEN HAIR JAMES ROWE AT BRYANT ARTISTS MAKE-UP MARY GREENWELL AT PREMIER HAIR AND MAKE-UP NAILS SAFFRON GODDARD AT SAINT LUKE USING SISLEY HAND CARE

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...is the #BeautyBOSS

T

hese are the beauty products to use while exercising.

Who added “Go to gym in new year” to their list of resolutions? Me too. Who hasn’t gone to the gym yet? Me too. One survey found that 75% of women are put off going to the gym because of their appearance. When I saw that figure, I related. My skincare (and food) diet went out of the window in December, and as a result I’m feeling sluggish and my complexion is up in arms: dry patches, dullness, blemishes, the works. The last thing I feel like is squeezing into Lycra and standing next to smug matchadrinking gymfluencers.

I don’t subscribe to the assumption that January must mean gym time, but if you are up for it, here is how to avoid skin issues while working up a sweat. First things first, can you wear make-up to the gym? Yes, but you need to be careful with what you choose. “Trapping grease, sweat, dirt and dead skin cells under a layer of make-up can cause clogged pores and inflammation, which may ultimately lead to breakouts,” says the consultant dermatologist Justine Kluk.

The key term to look out for is “noncomedogenic”, as that means a product is less likely to clog up skin. A new brand to watch is Skin in Motion. The range is masterminded by the make-up artist Gia Mills and is designed for gym folk. You’ll see “exercise friendly skinwear” stamped on the packaging, with key words such as “sweatproof ” and “breathable”. Work It Tinted Moisturiser (1 £25) gives skin a veil of warmth and glow, rather than full-on coverage.

Oh, and the Lift It Waterproof Mascara (2 £20) is a keeper. There’s no caking or clumpiness, and it will see you through that spin class you’re trying to talk yourself out of.

On the subject of eye make-up, if the thought of venturing out in public without eyeliner gives you the heebie-jeebies, try SportFX Finish Liner (3 £10). I’ve yet to find anything that lasts quite like it. In fact, whether it’s exercise or just an all-day look you’re after, I can confirm this one is going nowhere. And for brows, it has to be L’Oréal Paris Brow Artist Micro Tattoo Eyebrow Definer (5 £10). The pronged pen gives a believable, budge-proof brow shape.

A few helpful all-rounder skincare tips: when it comes to treating skin pre-gym, Kluk suggests going easy on active ingredients right before you sweat. “Using acids might sting or burn the skin during a workout if applied just beforehand.” Across the board, experts also recommend skipping face oils and heavy creams before a workout, as they can block and clog. Check out new BareMinerals Poreless OilFree Moisturizer, which is non-comedogenic and lightweight (4 £31).

And, by the way, it’s not only the face we need to consider. “There’s also the issue of body acne,” says Kluk. “I remove sweaty gym clothes as soon as possible and shower at the gym where I can. Body acne can be aggravated if you don’t do this.” Try CeraVe SA Smoothing Cleanser (6 £12), as it’s designed to tackle breakouts without drying. Next up? Book the spin class.

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4 5

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SARAH’S SECRETS

ROBERT HARPER

I’m not one to jump on silly words like “Veganuary”, but people are often surprised when I tell them these three make-up brands are 100% vegan.

MILK MAKEUP Vegan Milk Moisturizer, £35 They say: it’s got desert, fig, oat and argan milk. We say: it’s a hydrating drink of water (or milk) for your complexion.

ELF Liquid Glitter Eyeshadow, £5 You only need to swipe this across lids once for a touch of January sparkle.

Tweet or Instagram your beauty questions

COVER FX Rose Gold Bar Highlighting Palette, £34 Swirl a powder brush across all three shades and dust onto cheekbones and brow bones for a 24/7 ring-light effect.

@SARAHJOSSEL The Sunday Times Style

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Introducing the new podcast

Postcards from Midlife with Lorraine Candy and Trish Halpin Tackling everything from hormones, sex, relationships, fashion, beauty, the menopause and mental health through to the conundrum of parenting teenagers

SUBSCRIBE and LISTEN at postcardsfrommidlife.com/listen

36 The Sunday Times Style

The devil wears ROUGE

Bright red polish is chic and classic – and this one is the greatest of them all

VICTORIA ADAMSON

R

ed nail polish, like red lipstick, sounds a simple enough concept on paper, but is in fact extraordinarily complicated in practice.

There is one for everybody, but finding it can take years or even (and I say this without exaggeration) decades. I’m sorted on the lipstick front, but the nails situation has never been entirely satisfactory — until now.

This is because, in my experience, light brown skin, which should in theory work with any kind of red, is actually a tricky proposition in this context. In brief, this is because there are loads of shades of red that make the creases in my fingers — the bit where they bend — look dusty, and by extension make my hands look slightly dirty. Isn’t it weird? But it’s true. Dozens of reds that look amazing on very white skin or very black skin look not quite right on olive to brown to dark brown skin.

I suppose it depends on the effect you’re going for. In my case, I’m going for short and chic, but historically it has rarely turned out that way, so I had given up. But then, the other day, I was given a voucher to a website called Masterclass (masterclass.com). This is a really interesting idea. It has people at the top of their game giving, yes, masterclasses in their particular field. So there is Margaret Atwood teaching creative writing, David Sedaris doing storytelling and humour, Billy Collins lecturing on poetry, Werner Herzog talking about filmmaking, and so on. I chose to watch Saint Bobbi of Brown teaching a four-hour-long make-up masterclass. I recommend it most heartily, even though it costs £85.

Anyway, I was absolutely mesmerised by her hands. Eventually she told a story about the model Yasmin Le Bon turning up to a shoot years ago wearing jeans, a white T-shirt and perfect short red nails. This struck her (Bobbi)

IT’S RED NAIL PERFECTION – CHEERING, WHOLESOME AND UTTERLY FLATTERING TO ALL SKIN TONES

as unbelievably cool and chic, so she resolved there and then to always have short red nails, which indeed she does. I couldn’t take my eyes off them, because they are still unbelievably cool and chic.

The shade in question was a really bright, clear red, a clean, zingy, fresh red, a tomato red, of the kind that is incredibly difficult to find, even though there are hundreds, if not thousands, of reds on the market. So I decided to track one down. I faffed about for a bit, but then I remembered that YSL nail polish — properly called La Laque Couture — is brilliant, because it lasts for a freakishly long time, even if you do a lot of things with your hands. And bingo! It’s the first shade, no 1, aka Rouge Pop Art. If you’re buying online, the little circle of colour that appears next to it is much darker than the reality, so ignore it. The actual product is red nails perfection, assuming that what you want is what I have been describing — a red that is cheering, wholesome, utterly flattering to all skin tones and a triumph on my brown skin. It’s not too dark, it’s not too orange — it’s the business. It’s never leaving my nails ever again. ▪

TRY

THIS

YVES SAINT LAURENT LA LAQUE COUTURE NAIL POLISH IN 1 ROUGE POP ART, £21.50

@INDIAKNIGHT The Sunday Times Style

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Forget the midlife chop beloved of many women in their fifties. When Marian Keyes turned 55, there was only one thing she wanted – flowing, full-length mermaid extensions. She describes her new hair love affair

I

woke up on the morning of my 55th birthday and decided to get hair extensions. Not just the modest, discreet ones that add volume (they seem to be just about acceptable for a woman of my years), but full-on, waist-length, mermaidstyle, unmissable ropes of hair.

I’d been toying with the idea for years, in the way I’d been toying with the idea of going trekking in Nepal or learning to speak Russian. In other words, something extremely unlikely to ever actually happen.

But the night before my birthday, my husband had sat me down for a “we’re not as young as we used to be” chat. He grasped my shoulders and said with fervour: “If there’s anything you want to do with your life, any unfulfilled ambition, any place you want to visit, now is the time to do it. Thank you for listening to my Ted talk.”

So I went to sleep and when I woke the following day, I knew exactly what I would do with my short and precious days — get hair extensions. (My husband, by contrast, had decided to climb Mount Kilimanjaro.

I sensed I may have disappointed him.)

My hair and I are in a deeply enmeshed co-dependent relationship. I both love it and fear it. I depend upon it; it knows this and takes pleasure in f ****** with me (frizz, contrariness and so on). The nub of the issue is that my head is a disproportionately small size (I’m very ashamed of this), so I rely on my hair to add “head” volume. Also, hopefully, distracting glamour. But once it reaches my shoulders it simply downs tools and refuses to go any further. No matter how many bottles of selenium supplements I’ve swallowed over the years, my hair loiters

38 The Sunday Times Style

LONG HAIR DON’T CARE Photograph Ambra Vernuccio

PHOTOGRAPH OF MARIAN: KEVIN DUTTON. MAKE-UP: ALEXANDRA GOLSHAHI USING BECCA AND BUMBLE AND BUMBLE

Style Beauty

sullenly at the cut-off spot, then splits and splits again until it resembles bare branches in the dead of winter. (Yet it still kills me to get it trimmed.)

When I was a child, any woman celebrating her 40th birthday topped off her festivities with the mandatory trip to the hairdresser. She took the chair, squared her shoulders and uttered those rite-of-passage words, “Give me the Cauliflower Helmet Head, Tracey!”

Mercifully, that no longer happens. But there’s still an expectation that at a certain age, women should opt for a “more manageable” bob or a chic short back and sides.

Women have been commodified and objectified since for ever, but frankly, it’s nobody’s business what we do or don’t do with our hair or our face or our bodies.

That unspoken patriarchal rulebook that decrees what is and isn’t appropriate can get in the sea.

I salute anyone who, one day, looks in the mirror at her long, coloured hair and decides, “I can no longer be arsed! Two full years of my life have been spent blow-drying my hair. I’m getting the whole lot lobbed off and I’m embracing the grey!”

I would love to have that confidence, that defiance, but the small head, you know …

Another aspect of the public ownership of women’s appearance is the suspicion roused by the over-forties who still have their long hair. Unkind rumours circulate: that in 1981 she was told she looked like Stevie Nicks and never got over it; that she spends more time than is healthy with her cats; that she once had sex with a session drummer from Jethro Tull; that she has an abnormally small head.

Nonetheless, my mind was made up. But I had no idea how to go about getting extensions. All I knew was that the hair needed to be ethically sourced. A friend directed me to Hershesons in London, to Jordan Mooney, who uses Great Lengths, which is 100% ethical — from India, where the hair is voluntarily donated, a fair price is paid and the money goes back to the local communities to support charitable causes.

I’d expected a long consultation, followed by a second visit after extensions the correct colour and length were sourced. But no!

From some mysterious backroom, Jordan produced oodles of them. My gateway was tape extensions, whereby “slices” of hair are attached by some special, extra-strength hair sticky tape.

HAIR EXTENSIONS BRANDS TO TRY FOR ALL HAIR TYPES Gold Fever Luxury Hair; goldfever.com Great Lengths; greatlengthshair.co.uk Easilocks; easilocks.com WHERE TO GO (PRICE ON CONSULTATION) Hershesons, London — full head from £1,500; hershesons.com Bradley King, Harrods, London — full head from about £700; harrods.com Reuben Wood, Manchester — full head from £950; reubenwood.co.uk Crear Hair & Beauty Studio, Cardiff — full head from £320; wearecrear.co.uk

BEFORE AFTER

Marian Keyes had a full head of 40cm bond extensions at Hershesons Berners Street

In an hour and a half, I was transformed.

Suddenly my hair was long and swingy and fabulous. And light. That was the biggest surprise, the lack of weight. And I loved it beyond words. I felt amazing — glamorous and beautiful. I wore it piled on my head in an impressive bun, gathered into a magnificently swingy ponytail, or long and loose.

Several productive hours were lost, as I sat in front of my mirror, swishing back and forth and marvelling at how normal the size of my head looked.

Not everyone shared my delight. Hairdressers feared me, the way vampires fear garlic. If I booked a blow-dry and neglected to mention that I was now sporting a yard of hair, my arrival frequently saw panicked scenes.

Home maintenance, though, was easier than when I was dealing with just my own wayward, frizz-prone barnet. The hair in the extensions has been chemically treated to make it compliant and obedient, so the overall effect is smoother and shinier.

The only caveats were no conditioner, oil or hot hairdryers near the extra-strength sticky tape. Also, brushing near the roots had to be done with care.

I enjoyed several months of mermaid hair and it’s only in retrospect that I see that it was too long for me. I’m short (5ft) and with my waist-length extensions, I looked like a mobile wigwam made of hair. I was Cousin Itt with lipstick. But I regret nothing.

Six weeks is how long they’re supposed to last (but they can be reused up to four times).

Sure enough, almost to the day, the first one fell out. I’ll be honest, it felt like a death.

I hot-footed it back to Jordan for an upgrade, this time “bonds”: the extra-strong sticky tape was dispensed with and the extensions glued in using heat. This session took longer, perhaps three hours, but the end result was even better. Because the point of contact is much smaller, the hair swings and behaves even more like real hair. I love them! These ones last for four months.

On my most recent visit, I got shorter, or less mermaid-long, extensions than the first time. It’s still thick and long and beautiful, but I no longer look like a triangular wig in high heels.

I’ve no plans to return to my own hair any time soon. ▪ @MarianKeyes Grown Ups by Marian Keyes is published on February 6 and is available to order now (Michael Joseph £20)

The Sunday Times Style

39

GET IN THE

There are more books, apps and podcasts on period politics than ever before. Could a new wellness guide on how to harness the power of your cycle for success be worth a try? Gabby Edlin tests it I am obsessed with periods. Yours, mine, Susan’s next door. Moreover, I am so obsessed with the inequalities that surround menstruation that I founded a charity in 2016 — Bloody Good Period — getting period products to those who can’t afford them, alongside campaigning to normalise menstruation and providing menstrual and gynae education. I have more than a dozen period- and vagina-based books sitting in front of me on my bookshelf at home — a fact I proudly display to anyone who walks through my door — as well as another shelf in the office.

And joining the crew is In the Flo by Alisa Vitti, which is out at the end of the month. Vitti is a US-based functional nutritionist, women’s hormone expert and self-confessed “total geek when it comes to hormonal biochemistry”. In

40 The Sunday Times Style

the Flo aims to help the reader revolutionise their life by unlocking their hormonal advantage. Vitti puts forward a model for “female-centred living” based on the four phases of the menstrual cycle: follicular, ovulatory, luteal and menstrual. “With some simple lifestyle tweaks, you can tap into the natural power source of your cycle to biohack your way to better health and fitness, enhance your productivity, master time management and enjoy greater success in every area of your life,” she says.

Periods are, apparently, enjoying their moment in the sun, as though menstruation is not the very foundation of human existence. Our WhatsApps now feature Mooncup chat; #freeperiods activism fills our Instagram feeds, alongside sponsored ads from start-ups such as Thinx; and more than 100m women monitor their cycles on their phones. Vitti’s book is the latest in a flurry of earth-mother,

Style Wellness love-your-flow life guides from authors and practitioners such as Maisie Hill (Period Power) and Alexandra Pope and Sjanie Hugo Wurlitzer, co-founders of the Red School, with their 2017 book Wild Power. There has been a welcome murmuring of a political-with-a-small-p discourse on menstruation, too, such as Emma Barnett’s brilliant taboo-busting Period, released last summer.

Like any good period activist, I have been tracking my own cycle for the past year and a half. Every day I tell an app on my phone how I’m feeling (tired, often tired), whether or not I’m craving sugar, and the consistency of my discharge or menstrual blood. (Fun fact: in 2013 Vitti made TV history on the Dr Oz Show in America by using a variety of juices and fruits — mashed-up blueberries, strawberry jam, cranberry juice, prune juice — to show the various colours and consistency of menstrual blood and what it means for your hormonal health.)

The science about cycle-based living is not quite there yet. Sally King, a leading UK research specialist on menstrual health and founder of Menstrual Matters, feels uneasy about any emphasis on the regulation of menstrual cycles. “While the average cycle length is about 28 days, it is not the norm. Healthy cycles can be anything from 21 to 40-plus days in length, and this usually varies

SABINE VILLIARD/TRUNK ARCHIVE, JESS SCHAMROTH

HOW TO HARNESS YOUR CYCLE FOR WORKPLACE SUCCESS PHASE ONE: FOLLICULAR Duration: 7–10 days Cyclical strengths: creativity and planning Phase 1 of your cycle begins directly after your bleed ends. Oestrogen levels begin to rise to initiate the renewal of your uterine lining, so that it can host an egg in an ideal environment later on in the cycle. As oestrogen rises, it boosts the brain’s working memory capability — the ability to handle complex processing tasks, according to research in Frontiers in Science. Analysis and evaluation are dominant desires now.

That’s why you should schedule your most mentally challenging assignments for this week. Hormonal levels during this phase also spark creativity, making this the ideal time to focus on new projects at work, starting a new business, or going after new clients.

Engage in brainstorming sessions with your co-workers to take advantage of the boost in your cognitive creativity.

PHASE TWO: OVULATORY Duration: 3–4 days Cyclical strengths: communication and collaboration A dramatic rise in oestrogen followed by a rise in luteinising hormone (LH) stimulates one follicle to mature fully and be released into one of the fallopian tubes. Surging

by plus or minus two to four days each cycle,” she says. “By reinforcing the idea that the ‘normal’ menstrual cycle lasts 28 days, or can perhaps be regulated into such, we are teaching women and girls yet another reason to try and make themselves ‘fit’.”

Vitti’s book may come across as woo-woo to many, but I can get on board with her overarching sense of frustration at the lack of body literacy that still exists in 2020. At present, it is not compulsory to teach children about menstruation, but from this September, thanks to the hard fight of activists, it will sit alongside mental health and LGBT education. Things are changing, slowly.

So, would I recommend you get “into the flo”? After a couple of weeks living under Vitti’s guidance, the aspect I find most useful is the self-kindness she presses constantly on readers. It’s something all of us, menstruating or not, could do with a bit of. Ultimately, I do not want to “hack” my cycle; I want to be able to live in a world where this is not necessary, because no one raises their eyebrow while I’m mainlining paracetamol in the office, sitting on three hot-water bottles. As with many tomes that promise to change your life, in reality it’s probably common sense, healthy eating and a strong dose of patriarchy-focused rage that are actually required to do so. ▪ @bloodygood__

oestrogen increases synaptic connections, which can boost mental sharpness, creativity and communication skills, according to a study in the Journal of Comparative Neurology. Connecting with others is at the heart of this phase.

This is the time to have important talks with your team, boss and clients. If you’re planning to ask for a promotion or a raise, do it during your ovulatory phase. Emotionally, you feel outgoing, upbeat and revitalised.

Tap into this energy by arranging lunches, meetings and networking for this time.

PHASE 3: LUTEAL Duration: 10–14 days Cyclical strengths: completion, nurturing and tending The corpus luteum (the follicle from which the egg was released) grows inside the ovary, sparking the production of progesterone, which is at its highest point.

Oestrogen levels continue to rise and promote additional padding of the uterine lining. The particular ratio of oestrogen to progesterone in this phase makes you notice things around you that you didn’t see before.

As a result, your brain begins to prioritise detail-driven responsibilities you may have ignored all month, such as putting together your quarterly report. You’ll also have a natural desire to wrap up projects. On the social side, try slowing down your

networking and outside meetings, so you won’t feel needlessly exhausted and have time to do what feels most pleasurable to you in this phase — getting your work done.

PHASE 4: MENSTRUAL Duration: 3–7 days Cyclical strengths: evaluation, analysis and intuition As hormone levels quickly decline to their lowest concentrations, the communication between the right and left hemispheres of your brain is more powerful than at any other time. Analysis and evaluation are dominant desires now.

This is an ideal time for reflection.

Schedule time for analysis and think strategically about where you want to go in terms of the big picture of your life. Because of the way your hemispheres are firing back and forth during your period, you’re also most likely to receive clear intuitive gut messages during this phase. Ask yourself how you performed in the previous month. Did you feel energetic and happy about your work, or overwhelmed and underappreciated? Is your career headed in the right direction and, if not, what are some steps you can take to veer it toward your overall goals? © Alisa Vitti 2020. Extracted from In the Flo: A 28-Day Plan Working with Your Monthly Cycle to Do More and Stress Less by Alisa Vitti, published on January 23 (HQ £16.99)

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From a wearable AI stress-buster to algae-based supplements, here’s how you’ll be staying fit and healthy this year, says Jessica Salter MICRO HIIT No time to exercise? Well, no more excuses. We should all be practising micro HIIT throughout the day. It’s welcome news: now those short bursts of HIIT (high-intensity interval training), followed by short rests, can be even shorter. “Use every opportunity to add one, two, three minutes of HIIT to your day,” says Dr Pamela Peeke of the University of Maryland, who is a member of the Equinox gym health advisory board.

This “healthy stress” triggers autophagy, which stimulates stem-cell regeneration. Equinox recommends a blast of HIIT first thing, instead of your usual Insta scroll. It could be a sprint, some Tabata or, if you can get to Harvey Nichols Knightsbridge, a micro-burst on a Car.o.l machine, an AI-powered stationary bike (carolfitai.com). “It needs to be performed at an all-out pace,” says Ratna Singh, founder of Car.o.l.

“Working out at this intensity can only be sustained for a very short period of time, literally a few seconds.”

FITNESS RETREATS If you find your fitness levels flagging after a week or two away, help is at hand. Now you can holiday with your gym buddies at a range of new retreats. Rhian Stephenson, the Psycle CEO, is offering four- and seven-day retreats in a luxury villa in the foothills of the Pyrenees (artah.co), featuring vigorous hikes and yoga, while the boxing gym BXR has launched a new retreat in Crete (bxrlondon.com), with hiking, paddleboarding, yoga and, of course, boxing. Equinox has launched active exploration holidays (equinox.com), with bike rides through the Hudson Valley, New York State, and Third Space is offering yoga and HIIT in Crete (thirdspace.london). “We drink and socialise all year. Combined with long work hours and stress, it can all get too tiring,” says Stephenson.

“If the opportunity to go somewhere beautiful and come back feeling and looking fantastic presents itself, it’s difficult to pass it up.”

42 The Sunday Times Style

STRESS-BUSTING WEARABLES We’re used to tracking sleep, steps and even menstrual cycles, but now there are wearables to help us fight stress. Apollo, which launches this month, is the first clinically validated wearable that helps your body to adapt to stress (£280; apolloneuro.com). It uses AI to deliver frequencies of vibration that activate touch receptors in the skin, which, the brand claims, returns the body to a state of calm in a few minutes. “Chronic daily stress can have a profound disruptive effect on our bodies, resulting in insomnia, anxiety, depression, chronic pain,

cognitive dysfunction and cardiovascular problems,” says Dr David Rabin, co-inventor and co-founder of Apollo Neuroscience.

It is also claimed to be the only technology that improves heart-rate variability and, says Rabin, “it accelerates recovery from stress so you can feel energised and focused, and sleep better”.

NEXT-GEN GUT SUPPLEMENTS It’s official: we’re obsessed with our guts. The global probiotics market is projected to reach £59bn by 2025, according to Grand View Research,

rock your BODY

Style Fitness

and there are some impressive female-led brands devoted to next-gen research. The wellness brand Inessa is launching what it claims is the most clinically researched probiotic. The company is the brainchild of nutritionist Aliza Marogy, who was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, a chronic autoimmune condition, in 2001.

The formulation is a unique blend of probiotic strains and is clinically proven to support health for IBS and IBD patients, along with Saccharomyces bouladii, a yeast praised for its protective effects against gastrointestinal upsets (£39 for 30 capsules; inessawellness.com).

Meanwhile, the microbiome company Seed has launched its Daily Synbiotic (£40 for a 30-day supply, subscription service; seed.com), a probiotic with gut-improving results supported by peer-reviewed scientific research. No wonder investors include Cameron Diaz, Jessica Biel and Karlie Kloss.

nick aldridge, riccardo tinelli

PILATES FOR YOUR FACE If you have a weekly appointment with your Pilates mat, then get ready, because your face wants to get in on the toning action, too. “We all know the anti-ageing benefits of exercising for your body and mind. Well, it’s the same for your face,” says Pilates teacher Carme Farré. She has created FaceToned, an app that takes you through a series of exercises for facial muscles (£20 a month; facetoned.com). “This increases muscle tone and volume, so the skin becomes tauter, reducing wrinkles and helping slow down the ageing process,” she says. Apparently, just 10 minutes of facial Pilates, four times a week, will leave you with increased definition and looking younger.

SKYRUNNING Supercharge your weekly jog with a skyrun. “To me, skyrunning is freedom,” says Georgia Tindley, a British skyrunner. “It is an escape from the humdrum of everyday life into an exhilarating world.” Plus, the fitness benefits are huge: it builds

strength, improves form and boosts your speed. You’ll need a mountain to do it, though: the International Skyrunning Federation describes it as running in mountains above 2,000 metres altitude, and 5% of the race must have an incline of 30%.

It’s huge internationally, with 200 races worldwide and about 50,000 participants from 65 countries, and is on the rise in the UK. “Every year I notice increasing numbers of Brits at races,” Tindley says. “And more women are getting involved too.”

TECHNIQUE MATTERS January is when everyone hits the gym, but a study by Nuffield Health has found that more than half of us don’t know what we’re doing. “If you’re not sure how to do the exercises correctly, then you risk injury,” says Jayne Robinson from Frame. The solution is to swot up before you beef up. Frame is launching a series of Movement Clinic workshops (as well as a new gym outside London this year), to teach the correct techniques for exercises such as squats, lifts and push-ups that you can then take anywhere, from a Pilates class to the

gym floor. “There are lots of shiny new trends,” Robinson says, “but it’s important to get the fundamentals right first.”

ALGAE Seaweed is already revered as a superfood, both on our plates and in our face creams: the global seaweed market is forecast to reach £18bn by 2024, according to analysts Mordor Intelligence. Now the cleanliving set is using algae oil instead of fish oil for their omega-3 hit (Together Omega 3, £14 for 30 gels; togetherhealth.co.uk). Not only is it vegan, but studies also show that algae oil is as beneficial for the brain and heart as fish oil. “Algae is one of the most abundant organisms on the planet and contains useful amounts of DHA and EPA omega fatty acids, the highly absorbable forms of omega-3 fatty acids linked to brain and heart health that are found in fish,” says nutritionist Lola Ross.

She adds that using algae oil can help to reduce overfishing and the destruction of coral reefs. Healthgiving and planet-saving — what’s not to love? ▪ @jes_salter

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Style Leading Women

What SHE SAID YOUR WORK DILEMMA ANSWERED

BY A SUCCESSFUL FEMALE LEADER

I run a business and we’re going through rocky times. How do I keep everyone motivated and positive? Victoria, 38

LINDA NYLIND

DAME JAYNE-ANNE GADHIA The CEO of Salesforce UKI was named leader of the year at the 2018 Lloyds Bank National Business Awards. The 58-year-old lives in London with her husband and 17-year-old daughter

ROCKY TIMES ARE RELATIVELY NORMAL TO ME. It can even be a positive experience — my career took off when I was asked to sort out another part of the business that was in trouble. I was in my early thirties and in middle management at Norwich Union, when the CEO called and said: “I need you to sort this out.” It was the first time I’d taken on such a huge project. As well as recruiting 144 people with no notice, I had to run a team at head office to manage the situation, and we literally worked 24/7, sleeping under the desks every night for three weeks. It was highly stressful, but we solved the problem and created long-lasting friendships.

A crisis can be a powerful motivator. You see the best people rise to the top and solve it. They’re driven by something more than just the everyday business outcome — maybe pride, belief, responsibility. A crisis can bring the ability to go the extra mile, as well as solutions and insights that wouldn’t otherwise have occurred, so you can come out stronger than in steady times.

Not everybody copes, though. When I was at RBS during the financial crisis, many employees took sick leave with stress-related issues. I have found that people who can deal with ambiguity tend to fare better. In our complex world, business ambiguity is here to stay. If you need clarity with what’s happening tomorrow, you’re going to struggle. It’s about developing resilience, and thinking, “I’m going to learn from this; it’s going to give to me, rather than just take.” When I interview people, I’m always more interested in how they overcame hardship than their stellar paths to success, because that is the human condition — so make the most of it.

It’s important to unite the team behind the problem, so in any crisis I’d have a physical team meeting every day. That ensures that everybody knows the overall progress, any individual problems, and how they can contribute.

Communication is key to keeping up morale. It can be easy for leaders to forget to update the broader team, and then people invent their own dramas.

Being transparent with absolutely everybody helps people to feel trusted and part of the solution, then they don’t get so down about the problem. I have also always written a Friday memo, so everybody knows what I — and the business — have been up to that week. Openness can sometimes be difficult in a listed company, though it is not as hard as some people make it out to be.

It is important for a leader to be cool-headed at times of crisis. Many years ago I was known to be emotional in business, because it meant so much to me, but I was inspired by hearing that Stella Rimington, the former head of MI5, depersonalises everything. All these problems are not actually about me; they’re simply things that I have to deal with. Being less emotional means I have more clarity of response. With good leadership, good people and hard work, things always work out in the end. Someone once said to me, “Everything is all right in the end, and if it’s not all right, it’s not the end.” ▪ @gadhiaj As told to Fleur Britten

Do you need a career question answered? Ask @TheSTStyle using the hashtag #STYLELeadingWomen

The Sunday Times Style

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2

1

3 ZIGZAG 1 Vase, £15; habitat.co.uk.

2 Mug, £9; zarahome.com.

3 Lampshade, £115; abodeliving.co.uk.

4 Tall basket, £50; oliverbonas.com. 5 Cushion, £59; conranshop.co.uk.

6 Rug, £75; next.co.uk

POOKY

6 5

4

STYLISH LIVING

DUNELM

3

1

2

WICKER

6

1 Lampshade, £125; thewhitecompany.com.

2 Basket, £25; ikea.co.uk.

3 Carafe, £42; conranshop.co.uk.

4 Round shelf unit, £95, Madam Stoltz; trouva.com.

5 Low chair, £200; hm.com. 6 Mirror, £25; habitat.co.uk

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5

HABITAT

Style Interiors 2

1

3 4

5 ABSTRACT 1 Mobile, £140, Volta; conranshop.co.uk. 2 Tray, £25; conranshop.co.uk.

3 Cushion, £59, Ferm Living; trouva.com.

4 Platter, £20; made.com.

5 Cushion, £14; dunelm.com. 6 Framed print, £50, Inaluxe; johnlewis.com

6

The trends to try now in your home

1

CONTRAST TRIM

3

1 Napkin, £15; conranshop.co.uk.

2 Ceiling lampshade, £130, and 3 pasta bowl, £12; habitat.co.uk. 4 Jug, £28; trouva.com. 5 Vase, £12; ikea.co.uk. 6 Basket, £18; zarahome.com Edit Flossie Saunders

MATILDA GOAD

2

4

6

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AQUARIUS January 20 – February 18 Ordinarily, you’ve a knack for observing events around you and knowing when to get involved versus those matters that really are others’ to deal with. Currently, however, it’s tricky, mostly because you’re being asked for advice.

For now, busy yourself elsewhere. Besides, you’ve decisions of your own to make.

What’s happening this week? Our astrologer Shelley von Strunckel reveals what the stars have in store for you

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500420* Year to come, ring: 09016 095250*

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500414* Year to come, ring: 09016 095244*

PISCES

VIRGO

February 19 – March 19 Only weeks ago, both circumstances and your own plans were clear. Since then things have been turned upside down, although, bizarrely, it’s for the best. Still, you’d like decisions to be made. They will be, but not just yet. For now, take each day as it comes.

August 22 – September 21 As a Virgo, you’re often the first to spot hard facts that others hope aren’t true.

That’s the case now, except these involve your life and could lead to changes as thrilling as they are unexpected. However, you must be patient. The full details are unlikely to surface for months.

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500421* Year to come, ring: 09016 095251*

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500415* Year to come, ring: 09016 095245*

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500410* Year to come, ring: 09016 095240*

TAURUS April 19 – May 19 Since late December, you’ve achieved a lot, but it’s been in situations as dull as, ultimately, they’ll prove rewarding. However, all this is about to change. Why? Tomorrow, your ruler, Venus, moves from accenting life’s duties and obligations to decisions involving its joys and pleasures.

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500411* Year to come, ring: 09016 095241*

LIBRA

DOLCE & GABBANA

ARIES March 20 – April 18 No Aries likes being backed into a corner.

However, there’s no avoiding the tricky situations indicated by the current powerful planetary set-up. The good news is that with your ruler, Mars, in the inquisitive Sagittarius, what you learn and who you meet promises to be thrilling — if not life-changing.

JASON LLOYD-EVANS

LEO July 22 – August 21 The events triggered by the current incredibly powerful planetary activity is shaking things up for everyone, but especially for you.

Complain if you must, but be aware that what seems most unfair will, within weeks, reveal itself as a golden opportunity — nothing less.

For now, explore absolutely everything.

CAPRICORN

December 21 – January 19 Initially, the mix of emotional ups and downs and sudden changes triggered by the recent eclipses and unsettling planetary activity will seem overwhelming. That’s as it should be.

This is about breakthroughs as unexpected as they are timely. Out of character as waiting and watching is, it’s the best option.

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500419* Year to come, ring: 09016 095249*

September 22 – October 21 For ages you’ve known you’d have to tackle a range of tricky issues, some personal, others involving complex matters.

Tomorrow your ruler, Venus, moves to accent these. While, at the moment, there’s no rush, the more you do now, the less complicated it will be later.

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500416* Year to come, ring: 09016 095246*

SCORPIO October 22 – November 20 Judging by the link between the practical Saturn and your ruler, Pluto, it’s time to discuss and deal with certain persistent concerns.

This may seem worrying, if not scary, at least initially. Taking that first step revolutionises your perspective on these and, quite possibly, the actual situations in question.

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500417* Year to come, ring: 09016 095247*

GEMINI

CANCER

SAGITTARIUS

May 20 – June 19 While the practical, business or financial matters you’ve dealt with recently were crucial and you learnt a lot in the process, that doesn’t mean it was fun. Tempted to put off the rest? Don’t. With your ruler, Mercury, shifting to accent other matters on Thursday, it’s now or never.

June 20 – July 21 The twists and turns triggered by last Friday’s Cancer eclipsed Full Moon aren’t just powerful, you’ll be feeling the aftershocks for weeks. For now, explore everything, since what’s least expected, or appealing, could be a stunning breakthrough — if in disguise.

Final decisions? They can and should wait.

November 21 – December 20 As a fire sign and somebody who thrives on the unexpected, you’ll glide through the sudden events triggered by the recent pair of eclipses, on December 26 and last Friday.

Move swiftly, even if this means making decisions on others’ behalf. It avoids endless debates and you can discuss details later.

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500412* Year to come, ring: 09016 095242*

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500413* Year to come, ring: 09016 095243*

For more details from Shelley: 09066 500418* Year to come, ring: 09016 095248*

*Calls cost 65p per minute, plus your telephone company’s network access charge. Maximum call duration: 6 minutes. Over-18s only. You must have the bill payer’s permission. These services are for entertainment only. Service provider: Spoke, 0333 202 3390. Have a personal consultation with an astrologer! Call 0906 400 1003 now or text SHELLEY (space) followed by your burning question to 82229. Calls cost £1.50 per minute, plus your telephone company’s network access charge. Calls are recorded for your protection. You must be over 18. Maximum call duration: 19 minutes. Each text message received costs £1.50. You will receive two response messages per question. Total cost: £3. Standard operator rates apply for all messages you send. Service available 8am-10pm, seven days a week. Available only in the UK. Service provider: Spoke, 0333 202 3392 (9am-5pm, Mon-Fri). This service is regulated by Phone-paid Services Authority

To learn more about astrology and order your personal chart, visit shelleyvonstrunckel.com

@vonStrunckel The Sunday Times Style

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Style Voice

NIGELLA LAWSON OUR COLUMNIST IS A SELF-CONFESSED MESS MAGNET – BUT SHE HAS LEARNT TO EMBRACE RATHER THAN FIGHT THE CHAOS

‘Wherever I go in my house, clutter just seems to build up. I don’t do it on purpose: I just seem to manifest it’

@NIGELLALAWSON

50 The Sunday Times Style

JASON HETHERINGTON

I

am sorry to start off on what might sound like a morbid note, but I’m rather warming to the Swedish notion of dostadning, or “death cleaning”, in which you start sloughing off the piles of tat that you unthinkingly acquire over the years, so as not to be a burden to your children after you’ve keeled over. (Ever since I read Anne Tyler’s 2015 novel A Spool of Blue Thread, I haven’t been able to buy anything without thinking that all I’m doing is adding to the mess my children will one day have to sort out.) I can’t claim, though, that I have them uppermost in my mind as I survey the clutter all around me: I just cannot bear the stuffocation.

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a decluttering column; I have learnt to accept much about myself, not all of it entirely desirable, and one of those things is that I am messy. Actually, it goes further than that: I am a mess magnet. Wherever I go in my house, clutter just seems to build up. I don’t do it on purpose: I just seem to manifest it. And unlike many messy people, who don’t notice or mind, I hate mess. But I don’t see myself ever getting rid of it in some cleansing and cathartic way, as I know it will just spring up afresh. Besides, the notion of going through everything fills me with existential dread: it’s not the tidying so much as the torrent of decisions that will be forced on me. I can’t even make my mind up to throw away an empty mustard jar (and I have about 20 on a kitchen window sill already) without feeling tortured.

My mess, I should assure you, is of a relatively innocent kind. Most of it is books: I have piles of them everywhere, and however many I give to charity, the piles never seem to diminish. But it is also true that if I put anything down — on a kitchen surface, a bedside table, or my desk — and leave it there for more than two days, it tends to stay there for life. It becomes its place.

When I was discussing writing this column with Lorraine Candy, Style’s editorin-chief, I sent her a photograph of my kitchen island, with its Manhattan skyline of stoveside bottles. She first responded by saying how anxious it made her feel, and then followed up with a panicked plea: “Can you at least put the condiments in a cupboard today or I may need therapy.” Reader, I didn’t. I couldn’t. There’s not a centimetre of room in any of my cupboards.

I am fully, if not shamefully, aware that to complain about having just too many things everywhere stinks of privilege, but I sometimes think that my messy amassing — messmassing? — of stuff is due to some atavistic refugee mentality (combined with the legacy of a mother who grew up with rationing), which means that I am riven with a fear of running out of something I’ll need. Proliferation seems to me an enormously comforting luxury. It’s not enough for me to have a couple of rolls of loo paper in the bathroom: I need a huge basket of them, and that basket comforts me more than I can say. But sometimes a mere basket is not enough: I don’t keep logs for my fire in one, but have two walls (one in the sitting room, one in my bedroom) loaded with them. Actually, I should tell you that there is something very calming about piles of logs everywhere. It’s the best thing about Switzerland.

I do, I have to say, start every year with a resolution to tidy everything up, and to live in spartan, minimalist serenity, but it’s time I knew myself. I don’t mind cleaning, but I cannot tidy up. I’m trying to see a positive in it; after all, no one wants to start the year with failure. I remember my tutor at university telling me that he thought my messiness was the healthiest thing about me. Once you organise yourself, he said, you could be really dangerous. (Look, I’m trying to see this as a compliment.) Actually, I do see myself as organised, but if I had to choose between an organised mind or an organised desk, I’d go for the former. And life is messy — may as well embrace it. ▪