I had to choreograph dancing cows for a commercial. I had to superimpose footage of dancing legs – some were mine – on to the cow. It was bonkers.

When Rufus first came out, it was all white guys and myself, but then the band changed and Tony Maiden, Bobby Watson and Andre Fischer came in. This guy booked us for a gig in Illinois, based on our original album cover, and when we got there he said that there were too many black people in the band. He actually put some white guys on the stage with us.

I was what I call a “nut lifter” in a factory in Enfield. I had to get nuts and bolts from the production line into big tins.

I lived in Cape Town, and I was spotted on the street and signed up by a modelling agency. I did about three shoots before I realised I hate having my photograph taken and I like food.

Realising I was never going to make it big in professional swing dance.

I’ve never read any Proust.

I’d probably take out a lot of my 20s, when I was rude, annoying and a brat.

A sense of optimism.

Anybody who works in frontline mental health services for the NHS.

I have a deep-rooted fear of being in trouble. I once tried to sneak into the back of a photography exhibition with my husband when one of our kids was in a pushchair. We’d arrived late and he suggested we go in through the gift shop and see the last room. As we poked our heads round the door, the security guard noticed us. I shouted, “That man’s trying to get in!”, then ran away.