My family breed like rabbits

Now she’s chucked out the telly, Kim Wilde’s got time to sunbathe topless, scream the house down, play Mum or camp it up – and generally rabbit on…

Five Star have got to grow up

My family have always supported me in my career and when I look at Five Star, I can see the strength they get from being a family. The youngest, Delroy, isn’t 17 yet – that’s kind of difficult. I was lucky as I strated when I was 19 and we’d pretty much gone through that tacky time. Five Star make really good records and I’m really impressed with them – being Brits and doing it all so classily and with such tremendous energy. But these things do change. They’ve all got to grow up – there’s a transition they have to go through and if that’s denied them, they might rebel. I don’t know whether they’ll survive that but I hope so.

Breaking with the box

I’ve taken the telly out of the living room. I do think everyone should. I’m getting into all sorts of interesting things like reading. I used to put the TV on for the news and end up watching any old thing. So I put the TV in the bedoom – the bedroom’s only good for a couple of things, and watching a television, thank goodness, isn’t one of them!

Your mum loves my dad

My Dad’s career was virtually over when I was born – The Beatles came and saw to that. So I never saw Dad as a rock ‘n’ roll star or a sex symbol. Anyway, who looks at their Dad as a sex symbol? You’d have to be pretty perverted, I can tell you! To me he was simply like – well, just Dad, you know… All the same, I was still known as Marty Wilde’s daughter at school and mums would ask their daughters to get his autograph. Kids would come up and say, “I don’t know who your Dad is, but my mum loves him!” It got tiresome, but I liked the way my dad was young and their dads were old. My Dad was going out and doing a gig when their Dads were thinking about going upstairs to bed.

I want people to hear me when I scream

I think that any girl has to take care, and especially if she lives on her own, like I do. I do have a personal alarm system in my home. And I’ve got the neighbours upstairs, because I live in a block of flats. I did consider living in a house, instead of a flat, because I do like to make a lot of noise. But I realised that I wouldn’t actually feel very safe living in a place where I couldn’t scream out for help and feel certain that someone would hear me!

Painting the frown…

I really like painting my face – it looks much better than it does without it. I take care of my clothes and make-up, though I don’t really think I’m hot at that, I just hope that I’ve got an individual look. I don’t really stand a chance if I go around wearing someone else’s ideas – though I admit at one time I did just that. I guess at the time I didn’t have much faith in who I was. So when a style came along, I jumped into it, in fact, it was good that this happened because it gave me the strength to see the good in what I was anyway. Not that it’s anything wonderful: I wouldn’t ever say that. But it’s always better to just be yourself.

When I went undercover

People don’t often accost me in the street, so I don’t really make much of an effort to disguise myself these days. But I used to be a bit more defensive about it. I used to be very careful, for instance, about giving my telephone number to taxi firms. It kind of verged on paranoia! And it really made me very unhappy. But fortunately, I grew out of that.

A real corker

I’m not a wino, but I do like good wine. It comes from being spoilt over the past five years, eating in so many expensive restaurants – which I don’t especially like – but it has given me a taste for good wine. I can’t stand drinking anything that’s sweet and hasn’t got a ork. The Blue Nun Brigade. I don’t mind cheap wine, but it’s got to have some character. I prefer red. It’s got less additives. I try to have in mind a few examples of most types, so that if I do have to buy it, I know what to get. I hate being lost in the supermarket!

My family are right breeders

Last month Mum found she was pregnant again and, quite honestly, while she’s still having kids, I really don’t need to! I’ve got a five-year-old brother called Marty and a seven-year-old sister called Roxanne. I’ve been like a sort of Mum to them, so I guess that’s stopped me getting broody myself. My Mum doesn’t have an easy time having children though – she went through a hard time when she started again. But she’s incredibly strong, maybe because she used to be a dancer. My brother Ricky, who’s 25, has just had a kid, too. We’re breeding like rabbits! But I’m not in any rush. After all, Mum started having children again when she was 40, so I know I’ve got plenty of time for all that.

I don’t toy with boys

I haven’t got a boyfriend. Not one. I have lots of friends, but I don’t actually have someone that I hang out with all the time. You know, someone who asks me where I’ve been till this time and why do I go out with my girlfriends all the time? Why must I wear those clothes? Why don’t I…? And so on, and on!

Famous, fussed and furious

One thing about my career that I don’t enjoy very much is people’s willingness to pamper me. I always find it vaguely offensive. I noticed it particularly on my first tour when I had bodyguards dogging my every step and almost inciting violence just by standing there, looking tough. It drives me nuts, makes me furious when people make a fuss of me because I’m famous or because I pay them or because I’m a woman. They’re all the bad reasons. You shouldn’t lick up to your boss and you shouldn’t pamper someone just because they’re famous. I don’t respect that. I’d much rather people said what they thought than going ga-ga over me – which they don’t as a rule. But there are some – mostly people who work with me.

Camping around with David Bowie

I went camping last summer, though it wasn’t exactly in a tent. I took a camper van with some girlfriends and a guy ,and we went down to the south of France and had a wonderful time on a campsite. A lot of people express surprise about that. I don’t see why. I wouldn’t find it astonishing to find that David Bowie had been on a campsite. I’d just think, “Great!”. The most embarrassing part, of course, was when I was sunbathing topless and men would walk along going “Oo-la-la, Keem!” and get their cameras out. There must be some very embarrassing photographs of me lurking in some Instamatic cameras somewhere in the depths of the South of France!