WhyI never let Claudia lookin themirror BY HER MOTHER EVE POLLARD
who says it’s the best thing you can do for your daughters
TO SOME it was eccentric, faintly ridiculous even. I’m sure that to others it was a terrifying prospect. Either way, a minor family revelation has caused quite a furore.
When my daughter Claudia Winkleman, who you will no doubt recognise from the BBC’s Strictly Come Dancing, said last week that she often looked like she ‘slept in a skip’, she went on to explain that there was a very good reason: when she was growing up, we didn’t have any mirrors in the house.
She’s right. Well, nearly. There was, it is true, a mirror above the fireplace in the drawing room. But with a gaggle of children and a kitchenplayroom in the basement, we might as well have cordoned that room off with the sort of red velvet rope they use round Anne Hathaway’s cottage. We rarely used it.
There were certainly no looking glasses, as we used to call them, on the children’s floor – except above the basin for brushing their teeth. And that was for a very good reason of which, even today, I remain very proud.
I firmly believe people would be much better off if they stopped obsessing over their appearance. And that is a particularly important lesson for a little girl.
Claudia, whose birthday we will be gathering to celebrate today, grew up with an understanding of the media, particularly with my job as editor of a national newspaper. But more than anything I wanted to give her a grounding in the real world.
Rather than gazing in the mirror, I encouraged her to look inwards to the qualities that matter in the long term – intelligence, wit and character.
In that regard, I tried to set her the best example I could.
When Claudia was little, I was a busy working mother and had to be hugely organised. I would lay out what everyone was wearing for the next day the night before and that was it. The mornings were a fantastic rush. I didn’t have time for standing in front of mirrors agonising over what to wear.
I would wear make-up for my job because I had to look presentable. But if Claudia ever asked when she could do the same, my reaction was always: ‘You won’t need that until you’re 50!’
At the weekends, when I wasn’t working, I was happy to look like a ragamuffin, without the palaver of make-up and carefully arranged hair. Or if I did go out, I have to confess that I, too, might have looked a bit ‘Alice Cooper’ when young.
As a mum-in-a hurry, my make-up didn’t always get removed before bed. Never tiny or gamine, I took my cue from my idol, Sophia Loren, whose signature look included black-rimmed almond eyes, with lashings of mascara. Even now, if I don’t have plans I prefer to be comfy in slouchy jeans. Claudia is the same. She’ll have her hair blow-dried and straightened for TV work, but if she’s dropping the kids off at school, she’ll be in black jeans and boots, her hair
still wet from the shower and not a scrap of make-up. And I’m glad about that. Life’s too short!
That’s a lesson I too learned at a young age. As a girl I remember debating for hours whether to wear green or blue eye-shadow. Then I discovered that one in 12 men are colour blind anyway and, regardless, I gave up caring because it’s a big world and there’s so much more to it than what boys think of your face.
So when it came to motherhood, I was determined to make sure that Claudia wasn’t primping and preening in front of mirrors.
I still tried to have my glamorous moments, of course. But I never talked to Claudia about what I was planning to wear or how I might do my hair and make-up. This was not because I have ever been confident enough about my looks. I would love to be taller and slimmer. And no, I am not a natural blonde.
But while it’s important to be trim and healthy, I see mothers becoming obsessive about their looks and their weight – and that affects their daughters.
Now this might sound controversial, but if you’re a mum and you’re on a diet, counting the calories, I don’t think you should talk about it in front of your children.
Of course we are all worried about eating too much, but an obsession with calories can set in train a lifelong fixation with their figures that can make girls not only unhappy but, in some cases, also very unwell. With Claudia I was lucky. She was a delight as a little girl, constantly curious about the world around her and a doting sister to her little brother Oliver Lloyd, my son from my second marriage.
Later, as a teen, she started to care more about fashion. She’ll hate me for saying this, but I remember only too well the stage when she would insist, ‘I’m going to wear a denim jacket’ – a look she thought was so cool. Whatever my private thoughts, I never made a big thing of it and we never wasted time shopping for clothes together.
We spent our time doing other things – trips out, walks, meals, reading books. She loved to read and I jumped on that. If she mentioned that she’d enjoyed a book, I’d go out and buy her three more by the he same author and suggest similar ar authors she might like to try.
And she thrived. She had a younger brother and three step- psiblings and she was always s having fun.
In our family, it was crucial to o be able to hold your own in con-- versation around the dinner table, and age was no excuse.
But above all, the quality held in the highest regard was the ability to make others laugh, and Claudia, of course, has this in spades. I love to watchch her as she delivers a witty line ne on live TV with such elan.
Now she is a mother herself, with her own darling daughter. Today. alas, it’s not so simple as just banning mirrors.
The age of the internet has changed things and Claudia has a far tougher job as a mother than I did – raising a daughter in this Instagram generation where celebrities post airbrushed photographs of their seemingly perfect faces and bodies at every given opportunity. An age where every child has a phone and iPad and goodness knows what else available to them.
There are 18-year-old millionaire bloggers and vloggers, posting videos of themselves online about their make-up. Are these the role models we want for our daughters and granddaughters?
There’s also tremendous pressure for girls and boys to succeed at a young age, rather than be allowed to grow into themselves. That’s why I find myself looking back with nostalgia to the more innocent time when Claudia was growing up; girls were girls for longer.
But in one sense, at least, I believe we have seen progress.
I was fortunate in that my own mother was not only a witty woman who knew her own mind but had a job – by no means the norm in those days.
Harvard University recently published research which showed that daughters of women in paid employment were more likely to excel in their careers and have more equal relationships. I’m sure it makes girls look outwards.
They think it perfectly natural to combine career and motherhood. They have been used to dealing with child-minders, au pairs or nannies. They know it can work.
Last week Claudia joked about occasionally looking dishevelled on the red carpet. But I never see that. Because whatever she may see in the mirror, all I see is my brilliant, beautiful daughter.
Happy birthday, darling girl.