Kim Wilde

Date: 1 January 1983
Published in: [unknown] (France)
Written by:

Portrait of an artist on being human, with broken sticks, busy recording her next album.

I love

  • Chaka Khan. It’s the best funk around.
  • Jazz-dance
  • Being surrounded by friends
  • Sunny days when there is nothing to do
  • Italian cuisine
  • Beautiful skin
  • Writing. Letters, songs, words, music.
  • People who love me
  • Mirrors. It makes rooms bigger. I have my bathroom full with them.
  • Iced drinks when I’m thirsty
  • The Preraphaelites, my favourite painters
  • Blue. Electric, translucid, screaming. It’s my colour
  • Teapots with bright colours
  • Being at home, completely private.
  • Riding around London on bicycle.
  • Skiing.
  • My perfume ‘Eau de Calandre’, by Paco Rabanne.
  • Doing business
  • Tommy Cooper, a magician who failed half of the time. He died live on television. An institution in England.

I hate

  • Nouvelle cuisine
  • People who push me, on television or elsewhere.
  • To be made up when it is beautiful. Ugh!
  • Being jealous. (It happens to me.)
  • Faded flowers
  • That song by Audrey Landers, ‘Manuel Goodbye’!
  • Gaining weight
  • Having to be careful all the time.
  • Arthur Scargill, the spokesperson for minors.
  • Wallpaper of bad taste.
  • Bad pictures of me. I hate them.
  • People who do not care about small details.
  • Those who say ‘I bet you have a cramp in your hand’ when I sign an autograph for them.
  • Taxi drivers who make large detours to get more money.
  • Duty to make diplomatic missions.
  • Going to doctors or dentists.
  • Meeting people whom I don’t want to talk with when I stroll down the street.
  • Ask me about my dad and the influence he could have had on my career. It makes me crazy. I can bite.
  • Vulgarity
  • Being bothered by my neighbours because the music is too loud.