Coleen McLoughlin - Welcome to My World

My mum would tell you that when I was a kid and it came to clothes I was an absolute nightmare. All I ever asked for on birthdays or for Christmas would be clothes or shoes, and I would cry and cry until she bought me what I wanted. I was never into Barbies like other girls, I just wanted a good wardrobe! One year it was a black velvet jumper-dress with gold sequins. I must have been about seven years old.

My mum said she would never put me in black. She didn’t think a child should wear black. She’ll tell you that I screamed and screamed, wanting this special dress for Christmas, until eventually I got what I wanted.

Afterwards, my mum, who was probably tired of my screaming by then, bought me these tights and little black boots to complete the outfit. Very disco! I think it’d be very in now!

My obsession didn’t even stop at clothes. At seven years old I started wearing glasses, and I loved them. The optometrist came to school one day to check everyone’s eyes, and when I failed my mum thought I’d done so on purpose! ‘Do you want to wear glasses, Coleen?’ she asked me, thinking I’d made it up to be trendy. I hadn’t. I was short-sighted. I might not have wanted glasses to start with, but once I had them there was no stopping me. The first pair I ever bought had multicoloured frames, and from then on I made them my own thing, a way of individualizing my uniform. I always remember a pair of Moschino glasses I owned which had question marks on the arms. They were great but I’ve got to confess, some of the glasses I wore were bad! These days I wear lenses.

In my early teens I went through a stage when all I wanted to wear were tracksuits. My mum was never really happy about that, she always preferred it when I dressed like a girl. But that was the trend around Liverpool for girls my age – Lacoste tracksuits and nice white trainers. My friends and I used to go out and hang around the shops; in its own way it was our fashion statement. That was part of me, going through those stages every young girl does when she’s finding her own style.

My mum and dad always said that while we were at school they would provide for us, so we could devote our time to

There are many reasons to get on your mobile and call the fashion police, but here are some pet hates of mine that should be avoided at all costs:

1. Very short skirts with high heels

Unless your name happens to be Beyoncé and you are singing a little song called Crazy in Love you have no excuse. It’s not sexy.

2. Visible thongs above trousers’ waistbands

The modern-day female equivalent of the builder’s bum. Very unattractive.

3. Seeing double

If you are appearing on Strictly Come Dancing then fine, but otherwise girlfriends and boyfriends should not be seen out wearing matching outfits. Unless they’re around six years old, in which case it’s officially cute.

4. Cleavage overload

Message to all those girls who take their fashion tips from men’s magazines: keep them hidden and keep them guessin’.

5. Silly hats

Equestrian helmets and Pierrot clown cones may be good for fancy dress, but never mistake eccentricity for individuality.

schoolwork and exams. During the summer holidays, I used to go with my Auntie Pat and Auntie Shelagh to clean the chalets at Pontins – the money was good and I’m sure we used to clean more chalets than anyone else! – but when I was sixteen I found myself a Saturday job in New Look in Liverpool.

It was simply that I needed more money to buy clothes for myself. Not only that, but I’d just started seeing Wayne, and his birthday was coming up in October. Then it would be Christmas, so I really wanted to earn some extra money to buy him presents. I worked at New Look on Saturdays, and in the run-up to Christmas I’d work late-night Thursdays. Dad used to come and pick me up afterwards because he never liked the idea of me catching the bus home at that time of night.

Because I was interested in fashion it was a great job, and I used to get fifty per cent off all the clothes. My contract meant I had to buy New Look clothes to work in the shop, which I was more than happy about because they used to have a nice designer range by Luella at the time. I really enjoyed the independence the job brought me, and having my own money coming into my bank account. And Wayne got his birthday presents – an Armani cardigan and a pair of wireless headphones.

A couple of years ago, GMTV ’s fashion expert, Caryn Franklin, wrote a kind article in the Daily Mirror about me entitled ‘The Making of Coleen’, saying how I’d made ‘the transition from schoolgirl to sophisticate with ease’. I don’t know about ease, but it’s been fun. The last few years have seen me grow up, and so has my style and fashion sense. It’s been a fashion journey that, for better or worse, has taken place in the public eye. As for that first photograph of me, well, if I’d have known I was going to be in the newspapers then maybe, looking back, I might have restyled a few things. For starters, I think I’d have gone for flat ballet shoes with white socks, not the navy ones I was wearing. And I would’ve had my hair different – a loose ponytail rather than the tight pony I wore at the time. And I’d be wearing a smarter, tailored jacket. The three-quarter-length hooded puffa jacket would be history. That would be the first thing to go!

Before I go any further, maybe I should tell you a little bit about my background. There are six of us in my family: my mum Colette, dad Tony, oldest brother Joe, who’s nineteen, then Anthony, who’s eighteen, and our little eight-year-old sister, Rosie. You might have seen Rosie on the TV programme I made with Sir Trevor McDonald highlighting the problems of caring for disabled children, a subject close to my heart. Ever since she was born, Rosie has suffered from a rare genetic disorder caller Rett syndrome, which means she needs twenty-four-hour care. We’ve always had foster children coming to live with us in the house, and Rosie came to us as a two-year-old. We loved her so much we didn’t want to let her leave, and my mum and dad adopted her. We’re a really close family. Wayne has always spent a lot of time round my mum and dad’s house and he has become close to us too.

I was born in Oxford Street Hospital, in Liverpool’s city centre, on 3 April 1986. Coleen means ‘girl’ in Gaelic, it is to Ireland what Sheila is to Australia. I’m not actually named after anyone, but my dad has Irish roots and his granddad came from County Mayo.

My mum was just eighteen when she married my twenty-one-year-old dad, yet it took them seven years of trying to have a baby, and fertility treatment, before I eventually came along. Then, when I finally appeared on the scene, I nearly died.

My earliest memory is of being in hospital with my mum sitting by the bed crying. I was four years old when I caught chicken pox and I was ill for days and not getting any better. Then one night my mum tried to get me out of bed and I couldn’t walk properly, I just kept falling over all the time. They called the doctor and as soon as he saw my condition he sent me down to Alder Hey Children’s Hospital in Liverpool. There they immediately diagnosed me as having encephalitis (inflammation of the brain) caused by the chicken pox. I was put on all kinds of drips and stuff, and at one point the doctors told my mum and dad that I might not pull through – that I might have only forty-eight hours to live. I’ve still got those memories of all the family coming to visit me and me crying my head off. Eventually, I came out the other side, but I had to learn how to walk all over again. Now I’m in the fortunate position of being able to help others by being an ambassador and fundraiser for the hospital that did so much to help me.