My style has been nurtured over time. It's more about knowing what doesn't suit you. I love suits and anything sharp, and I know that shape suits me. I don't feel feminine in floaty dresses with spaghetti straps - I feel more like Freddie Mercury in drag.

I've worn a lot of humdingers in my time, but as a model it's my duty - my responsibility - to bring life to any garment. That can be challenging when it comes to high fashion, where the creations can be very eccentric, but I've gained a reputation for being the go-to girl who can pull it off.

I take my mentoring responsibilities very seriously.

It's like recycling: selling old clothes to help make new ones.

I've been cycling ever since I was a kid. I remember taking my cycling proficiency test aged seven - I got to school at 7:30 A.M. to practise, I was so nervous. After that, I always cycled to school.

Rejection is, of course, part of any successful model's career, as ironic as that sounds. It's how you pick yourself up and get on with the job.

I enjoy travelling the world, but nowhere beats Walsall.

The model sanctuary was borne of a complex, political, societal debate. It was proposed to us from various bodies that we give models medicals once a year, and if they didn't pass that medical, there's a chance they'd legally lose their right to work.

Fear has been my biggest friend. Fear of the unknown. Whenever I've been afraid, I've been very self-protective.

I seem to disappoint people a bit. They want the full regalia - but I don't walk around in a corset the whole time.

In my career, which has been fairly two-dimensional, people make decisions based on your persona.

The Model Sanctuary is not about self-indulgence - it's about reminding and allowing them to become self-sufficient human beings. I wanted to alert people to the fact that we're not the victims, but nor are we the villains. We want fair practice and positive, sustainable change, working with the fashion industry, not against it.

As a model, part of my job is to be critiqued physically.

Fashion is intoxicating, and it plays a part in all of our everyday lives. A lot of people use it as a form of escape, of realising a fantasy, and in some ways that becomes an unobtainable norm.

With high fashion, it's a performance. You're trying to interpret a fantasy in a very physical way, and you really are playing a character. I've played men, dead people, famous people, historical icons, and it's no mean feat. It's quite an insular experience even though the crowd is in front of you and there's an expectation.

New York is on a grid system, so it's slightly less challenging logistically, but Londoners are more relaxed in their selling approach. With that intense shopping service in New York, it's easy to get carried away and make a wrong purchase. Here, there's a different flow. You are left to explore, and individuality is key.

The 'Best of British' is a positive thing that's bandied around, but also it's applied pressure to our country in terms of economic growth. I think we've always felt the rest of the world is so much more powerful in terms of being commercially viable, but we can take great pride in our level of creativity.

We won't get economic growth if we don't look after our mothers and the potential of the next generation. They need to be prioritised.

Cycling is a great way to learn about your city. I love being outdoors, especially in good weather, but I'm not a fair weather cyclist. I'm happy to get a red nose in the cold.

When I was at primary school, we had this theory that if you ate an egg, it meant you'd get pregnant and give birth to a chicken or another egg. It was something we dared together. I avoided eggs for years, but now they're my favourite food.

When I was 13 or 14, my parents had a bit of a windfall so bought a lovely new kitchen, but I burnt it down. I was making cheese on toast when flames escaped from the grill. My father stopped the fire with blind panic and excessive water. I was forgiven, but it put me off cooking for years.

As a small child, me and my pals fantasised about one day owning an ice-cream van. To have ice creams on demand would have been a dream come true.

For my last meal, I'd want an Irish breakfast with soda bread and one of my dad's omelettes with three or four eggs.

In my job, I am portrayed as a misfit, a grandiose high fashion lady or an unearthly creature. At home, it's important I can look in the mirror, strip away the disguise and be comfortable with who stares back.

My hair is an untidy bob. I am very dark, but I embellish the roots because I am white in one clump.

I want to show that we all have the right to be ourselves, and I certainly don't want to freeze time.

I am rubbish at the gym. I prefer to exercise by moving around - it doesn't matter whether I am dancing on a Friday night or on my bike getting from A to B.

I love the sun, but we don't get on at all; it doesn't agree with my Celtic tones. I also like nothing better than putting on a big ski jacket and feeling the wind in my face.

The great outdoors is a theme with me; a walking holiday in Scotland is perfect - Culloden and the forests of Aviemore are both favourites.

I've enjoyed many camping holidays with my sister and her children, but we're pretty posh campers.

My job is to sell clothes to very rich women.

When you're physically growing up, you develop emotionally with that.

I would say I live half in New York and half in Claridge's. How decadent! How hysterical!

How awful to be a perfect beauty! How confusing! God. Can you imagine?

I think most of my career has been built on conviction and the personality to carry that image or stride confidently on the catwalk. That was my beginning and, hopefully, my legacy.

I think most models fear growing old, but from a tender age I had always chosen to play someone grown up. I am slowly but surely catching up with the people that I have spent the last decade and a half trying to portray.

I have two curiosity cabinets at home filled with finds from jumble sales, markets and my travels. My favourite piece is a voodoo mask from just outside Cape Town.

I am the world's laziest shopper, but very rarely have I had to take anything back.

I am selective. If I do splash out, it's an investment, and I wear things for years.

In the early days of my modelling career, I think the industry was uncomfortable with how strikingly different I was.

I am concerned about ageism and the loss of beauty - the perception that as you grow older, you 'lose your looks,' which I think is diabolical.

I worry about how accessible cosmetic surgery has become. Of course, if it has genuinely helped people, and their confidence has grown as a result; who am I to form an opinion?

I'm too diplomatic. I tend to edit my mind before I speak - it can be incredibly draining.

Growing up, I had an insane crush on Neil Tennant of the Pet Shop Boys.

It's a very intimate thing to invite someone into your home; there's a lot of trust involved.

As I began to get a deeper understanding of the vital life-saving work Save the Children does, I felt compelled to help in any way I could. This is about safe-keeping, inspiring and empowering a future generation - to facilitate them to make their own lives a little bit better.

It's a big shame that when you have a platform to write about Save the Children, the media interest lies with my moral alignment.

I am aware it's easy and may be fashionable to pose with a slum child, and the irony of getting the media along means that it can come across as disingenuous. But you take these things on board, and you hope you mean it whenever you get stuck into something.

I'm interested in looking for solutions because it's become the case that in fashion you're either a villain or a victim. Look at the industry's very limited remit in terms of body size, for example.

I have previously been a very enthusiastic consumer, and I didn't think about the origins of garments enough.