Born in London, Vanessa Feltz, 62, is a journalist and broadcaster. She became a household name hosting The Big Breakfast, and later the talkshow Vanessa, which went on to become The Vanessa Show. The LBC presenter has two daughters with her former husband, Michael Kurer – Allegra, a lawyer, and Saskia, a therapist for children. Her memoir, Vanessa Bares All, is out now.
Vanessa
This photograph was the beginning of everything. We were celebrating the commission of Vanessa on the roof of ITV – it was the start of an amazing adventure; one I had never expected.
In England in the 90s, the only place to get bigger clothes was Evans. As they didn’t have especially smart or bright clothes, the American company that co-produced the show sent me a suit for free. I teamed it with huge pieces of jewellery – the type of thing Joan Collins would take off before she answered a phone call on Dynasty.
I thought I looked large, but also pretty, and I was pleased that I was with my girls. The matching outfits were a thing at the time – Fergie was doing it with Beatrice and Eugenie, and we only did it for the best occasions.
I haven’t worn a suit like that since I stopped doing the Vanessa Show in 1999. Within minutes of the show ending, my husband left. It was as if he thought: “Right, there’s no point sticking around any longer.” For the first time in my life, I was so devastated I couldn’t eat. I lost the most prodigious amount of weight, so I gave all my TV suits to Oxfam. They had to send a truck because there were dozens: seven royal blue, 17 turquoise, 12 pink, 20 beige. For a brief moment, I was slim, and would wear PVC trousers, or other ill-advised garments I’d never fitted into previously. My weight continued to yo‑yo after that, but I never wore another suit.
When it came to talking to Allegra and Saskia about their bodies, I tried to do the exact opposite of what my mother did. I didn’t want them to feel as if they were sweet, fragrant babies who grew into smelly, spotty, oily, unattractive adolescents. I didn’t do nostalgia for “how lovely they used to be” when they were 10. I tried to greet each stage of their development with real enthusiasm, because I really did like them, whatever stage they were at.
After the end of the Vanessa Show, my career crumbled away. My Daily Express column kept the wolf from the door. Then, in December 2002, I heard from BBC Radio London’s boss, asking if I might fancy doing holiday cover for one of the hosts. Did I fancy it? I’d have paid for the privilege. I couldn’t wait.
Around that time, I was good pals with Russell Brand. We hit it off immediately and he asked to co-host my Radio London show. He was funny and clever, and I was mesmerised by the way he broadcast.
I liked him. I still do, in a strange way. But there was a side to him that I didn’t feel comfortable with. So when he said he wanted to “have it off” with both my daughters [on Brand’s 2006 talkshow 1 Leicester Square], I couldn’t pretend that was hilarious. There was a jeering audience of people, roaring in approval. I thought it was revolting. Anything to do with me, I might have laughed, but my daughters? Forget that.
My girls are now mothers themselves, and have incredibly busy lives, but I am always there for them. I’ve got four amazingly gorgeous grandchildren and recently took them to Seville. For not one single second did I relax – I watched them like a hawk – but fortunately nothing bad happened. We just stayed up late and had four ice-creams a day. Being a grandmother is an enormous privilege, especially as my mum died at 57.
Allegra and Saskia are terrific women – decent, generous people who I loved before they were even born. While I certainly don’t claim to be the perfect mother, and I have made plenty of mistakes, there is no question that I adore them.
Allegra
It was unusual for us to have our photos taken, but this was a landmark moment for Mum’s career; the beginning of her rise to fame. Mum made a huge effort to dress us beautifully. Often matching, not necessarily pink or frilly, but pretty, delicate dresses. We loved it.
Growing up, Mum was glamorous at all times. She was hands-on and very loving, moving her work commitments around to prioritise us. She could have spent a lot of nights in a luxurious hotel after shooting, but always made it back for bedtime. On the weekends, she didn’t do much housework; she played instead and was always reading to us. When Saskia arrived, Mum put a lot of care into how I would feel – she came home straight after the birth so I wouldn’t have to be away from her.
Mum is an incredible raconteur who lights up every room. I haven’t inherited that, but my sister really has. I hope I’ve inherited the ability to put my children before anything else. To love them unconditionally, with the same passion and generosity she has for us.
Mum’s break-up [with long-term partner Ben Ofoedu amid allegations of cheating] has been incredibly difficult for all of us – extremely painful and triggering following our father’s infidelity. To see my mum’s suffering has been awful but, just like before, we pulled together as a trio.
Saskia
When Mum became famous it was very exciting. It felt like every minute we were doing something crazy – such as travelling in a helicopter with Bob Geldof’s family to see the Muppet Treasure Island movie.
There were times when I got a bit confused about Mum’s fame. We’d go shopping and people would start crying when they saw her. Others would stop her to sign something they had just bought. I couldn’t understand why someone would want an M&S pie with my mum’s name on it.
Mum has always loved a party, and would find any chance to throw one. Even now, she’s an absolute laugh. She’ll read something in the local paper about a knitting show in a church and say: “Come on! It’ll be amazing!” That kind of enthusiasm is infectious. My sister is just as kind, but has a calmer energy. Allegra is an exceptional person and a brilliant sister – she would brush my hair, make sure my food was cut up properly, and always look out for me.
Mum has endured so much. The most amazing thing is that she never made it our problem. When she was worried about work, or the divorce, she focused on making life bright and beautiful for us. [With Ofoedu], we were interrupted on a family holiday by information that came through my social media, information we just couldn’t ignore. It was shocking because we had been a unit, a family, for such a long time. It blindsided all of us. But we got the kids through it, we got ourselves through it, and we’ve got our mum through it.
Mum is incredibly humble. She doesn’t think of herself as a particularly big deal, but she is – she has been carving her own way for 30 years. I’m so proud of her and my sister. They’re amazing women, and I’m lucky to be in their team.
Vanessa Bares All by Vanessa Feltz (Transworld Publishers Ltd, £22). To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
