Paulina Porizkova

I think I had my first anxiety attack at the age of 10. Then it sort of varied between being so bad that I barely dared to go out to periods where it almost vanished. It's sort of like an ebb and flow thing.

Words are my life.

I've always hated modeling. It's superficial and fake, and I hate to have to care about what I look like. I get a pimple and freak. The whole business is all about selling beautiful girls' faces and bodies, so how can there be anything intelligent or nice about that except for the girl who makes money?

I used to think the word 'feminist' reeked of insecurity. A woman who needed to state that she was equal to a man might as well be shouting that she was smart or brave. If you were, you wouldn't need to say it.

I'm doing modeling to stay alive. I don't enjoy my work. I don't find it creative. You don't need brains, and there are no heavy qualifications. All it takes is not to be shy and to dare to make a fool of yourself. But I shouldn't complain, because I am privileged enough to be overpaid.

My boyfriend thinks I lost my true calling to be a librarian.

Now, I don't actually know the exact cut-off age where beautiful ceases and 'must have-once-been-beautiful' begins. It's true it's not forty-five. I can still get attention when I try really hard, even if it's greatly reduced.

I discovered when I was young that I was not like everyone else, and that was great, because it's the people who are different who bring about change and new things.

From Kevyn Aucoin, I learned about the power of eyebrows. He was an eyebrow freak, and rightly so because there's nothing in your face that changes you more. You can quite visibly lift your eye with a higher-placed eyebrow, or if you thicken or thin it.

Nothing ages as poorly as a beautiful woman's ego.

I have worked every day since the age of fifteen, supporting not only myself, but also helping a sizable family when needed.

When I model I pretty much go blank. You can't think too much or it doesn't work.