Sometimes I can't believe I'm going to be 60. I always say there's no point moaning about getting older, when there's nothing you can do about it. But still, I do find it quite funny. I look at that number, 60, and I think, 'Really? Me?'

For me, getting older doesn't mean throwing away a favourite-coloured lipstick or a fabulous pair of boots; instead, it's about harnessing all the great things I have learnt over the years about what does and doesn't suit me, and enjoying the way in which cleverly selected outfits can enhance the nice bits.

Christianity, like most religions, works with fear. Sins can be confessed and you are ‘Clean again’ and can start to sin again without thinking about your old sins. We believe that people should ask themselves why they sinned. They should show some responsibility.

I’ve never really had a waist. Even when I was at my slimmest, my silhouette was very straight up, straight down. But I have learnt how to give myself a bit of waist by optical illusion. For this, bring on the belts.

You won’t often find me in a pair of killer heels: my heel height doesn’t rise above two and a half inches, as I would just fall over!

I love flat shoes, more so than heels. One of my obsessions is men’s co-respondent lace-ups.

I eat healthily because that’s the way I prefer to eat, and I’m sure it helps keep the weight off.

The trick is to find the style that is right for you. When it comes to trying new clothes, my advice is not to take it too seriously – it’s all about having fun.

Fluted sleeves or any sleeve that flares out before coming in again at the wrist are very feminine and a great way to distract from the dreaded ‘bingo wings.’

What happened to me in the Sixties was so major and so worldwide and so huge, there’s no way I can repeat it. But in a way, I had nothing to do with it, it just took me over. It was bizarre, it was weird, and I had no control over it. I don’t think anyone could have planned what happened to me.