‘I’VE GOT MY SPARK BACK’

‘My husband and I support each other massively – that’s why our marriage works most of the time’

Author. Broadcaster. Mum. Mental health advocate. Object of many a grown-up girl crush and giver of real interviews. Fearne Cotton dons plenty of hats. Here, the 37-year-old talks plainly about relishing life’s joys – and refusing to let the dark times define her

Have you ever heard the one about the radiator and the drain? That ruthless but generally accurate theory by which you can categorise a person based on the way they make you feel. Warmed, comforted, enriched or, er, drained. The analogy swam in my head as I descended the stairs of a disused brewery, having just watched Fearne Cotton shoot her first Women’s Health cover. Because she is, emphatically, a radiator. To learn this comes as validation rather than a surprise, because I didn’t expect anything less. After two decades in the public eye, Fearne is nothing short of a British institution – one who’s spent those 20-odd years building a reputation as a friendly, down-to-earth, albeit really fucking cool, girl next door. Rarely does a celebrity shoot cause ructions in the WH office, but there were debates over who would be part of the 17-strong crew to meet Fearne, and tantrums thrown by those who didn’t make the cut. (The fact that Fearne pacified such immature behaviour by sending Whatsapp video messages to those back in the office cemented the fangirling.) Power posing on the building’s rooftop against the murky East London skyline, golden mermaid hair resplendent and supple, powerful body decked out in bright, directional kit, Fearne serves an offbeat superhero vibe. As if a late-60s Woodstock babe timetravelled and ended up in 2018, by way of an Ivy Park concession store. She looks every part the WH cover star. Does she feel it? ‘When you guys asked, I thought… I don’t feel like I’m going to be right for it,’ she says, helping me prise apart two fiddly folding chairs for us to plonk our bums on and chat. ‘Compared with those other women, with six-packs and triceps. But I was like, “Oh, fuck it.” It’s not about that, it’s about all-round stuff. I’m a mum… I do little workouts at home and that’s my thing. That’s my version of health and that’s what I’ll be showing.’

AN OPEN BOOK

Fearne was the team’s undisputed dream woman to front this Mind issue, the second annual Women’s Health edition focusing on mental health. From her self-help books to her podcast Happy Place (the new series of which is coming soon), Fearne’s passion for exploring holistic ways people can feel their best is inspiring – so, too, is the way she discusses her darker moments with consideration and clarity. Having grown accustomed to wearing her heart on her sleeve, it doesn’t take long for Fearne to open up about where her head’s at. ‘I’m good now, but this summer was weird… everything was worrying or annoying,’ she recalls. ‘I had a feeling of being a bit overwhelmed and knowing I wasn’t enjoying the things that I should.’ Periods that can come out of nowhere – and leave with as little notice. ‘Then there was this weird turning point… I hadn’t changed anything… but I just woke up and felt a bit better one day. I had some friends over and my husband [of four years, musician Jesse Wood, 41, son of Rolling Stones rocker Ronnie] said, “Oh my god! Your spark’s back, I can see it!”’ Fearne is, by her own admission, an intense, all-ornothing person. ‘I’m very like my mum in that way,’ she explains. ‘We both oscillate between feeling really quite brilliant and really quite shit and there’s not much middle ground... I’m not going to try to fight that any more.’ But what she will continue to do is put in the work to do the little things that she knows can make a big difference to her overall mood. ‘General wellbeing isn’t about expecting something. It isn’t a god-given right. It takes discipline,’ she explains. ‘I massively fail at it all the time, and don’t feel good. I have good and bad days; good and bad patches.’ When I ask if she realises how self-aware she is, Fearne’s eyes widen. ‘Too selfaware,’ she says. ‘I think you learn to be – because I’ve done 21 years of this job. I’m so grateful that I didn’t have to endure social media when I started,’ she laughs.

WITH A LITTLE HELP

The ‘secret’ to Fearne’s longevity as a TV personality-turned-dj-turned-author isn’t really a secret at all: she loves her work. More so now, as growing older and becoming her own boss has helped reduce the weight of others’ feedback, which historically had the power to inflate or dissolve her confidence. So has a new-found sense of purpose. ‘If people don’t like my books or my podcasts, that’s fine because I’ve also had letters, emails and people on the street telling me they’ve enjoyed what I’ve done.’ Right on cue, the instincts of a woman who’s used to having her words picked apart kicks in. ‘That’s not me ego-boosting. That, to me, says this is what I’m meant to be doing. I’m meant to be having these conversations so that other people might feel a tiny bit better. That, for me, is everything now.’ Fearne first shared her own past experiences of depression in February 2017, when she released her debut memoir-cumself-help title, Happy. ‘I didn’t know how I would feel about being so open because, for the first 18 or 19 years of my career, I hadn’t said anything,’ she admits. ‘But then you realise [talking about your mental health] is the most connecting thing ever.’ As she becomes more excited, more passionate, her face becomes more expressive and her hands gesticulate wildly. ‘It stops people feeling alienated – who wants to feel shit and lonely? You’d rather feel shit and know that lots of other people find the same things difficult,’ Well, quite. The finer details of that dark period remain private. ‘I don’t really talk about the time and when it was,’ she says simply. ‘Just because there was a lot of shit going on and I’ve got triggers around all of it, so I just keep it really loose.’ What she is happy to share is how she climbed out of that ‘horrific’ year. ‘I was at work doing something and I was crying on the phone and [a close friend] was like, “Right, I’ve booked you an appointment with my

‘I’m like my mum – we both oscillate between feeling brilliant and really quite shit’

doctor.”’ Said friend went with her to the appointment that same day, where the private psychiatrist swiftly diagnosed depression and prescribed medication, which Fearne took for the next five months. ‘I’m forever thankful that she had the guts to do it, because it’s not an easy thing to do.’

REALITY BITES

While Fearne doesn’t shy away from noting the darkness that has plagued her at times – and still can – these days, her life revolves around action and brightness. Take her morning routine: ‘It’s “Muuuuuuum!” at 6am every day, on the nose. After that, I’ll make a really strong coffee… then I drink, like, a litre of water,’ she explains. Then it’s time for a ‘boring’ breakfast en famille; porridge or an omelette, washed down with a fatigue-fighting green juice, on the advice of a yoga teacher pal. Once all four children – Arthur, 16, and Lola, 13, (Jesse’s children from his first marriage); Rex, five, and three-year-old Honey – are ready, it’s school/nursery run time. Fearne’s ardent Instagram followers will be well acquainted with her youngest two, although because she has made the conscious decision never to show their faces, Rex is known by his blond mop and drawings of dinosaurs and Honey by her shock of curly red hair. When Fearne works from home, which is increasingly often now that the days of regular radio and TV shifts are behind her, she lunches on chickpeas, kale and tofu and snacks on nut-buttered oatcakes. Once the kids return from school and are fed, watered and put to bed, she or Jesse ‘hastily’ make something for the other: garlicky vegetables with salmon on a good day, a bowl of cereal for him and a dippy egg for her on a ‘really bad’ one. Then it’s to the sofa. ‘We chat shit for a bit. Or, we argue, watch a box set and go to bed.’ The combination of young children and recurring insomnia means sleep can be scarce, so Fearne aims to be settled with a book (see her favourites over the page) by 9pm. Yoga has become as synonymous with Fearne as bright colours and band T-shirts (which, incidentally, tends to be her asana aesthetic), but she’s open to other exercises to hone her body as well as steady her mind. An average day might be ‘either a 5k run, 45 minutes of yoga at home or a 20-minute HIIT workout on the internet’. Her motivation to sweat through the latter? Her neighbour, Joe Wicks aka The Body Coach. ‘I’ll text him a picture of me and Jesse doing a workout and he’s like, “Go, guys! Ride that rush!”’ she laughs. Fearne’s workouts are more likely to occur in scrabbled time than scheduled sessions, but on a good week – like those leading up to our shoot – she’ll fit in five or six. One of the (I imagine precious few) downsides of relocating to the idyllic London suburb of Richmond is that yoga classes with Zephyr Wildman (the American who turned the previously adrenaline-chasing, thrill-seeking yoga sceptic Fearne on to mat-time in the first place) aren’t local and therefore occur less often. But now, several years into her practice, yoga is so intrinsic to Fearne’s everyday life, she’s even at it on holiday. ‘When we went to Ibiza this summer, we’d do yoga every other day,’ she says. I call to mind a recent, uncharacteristically ‘best life’ Instagram post in which a swimwear-clad Fearne and Jesse gaze into each other’s eyes on the beach at sunset. Ibiza is where they met, right? ‘Yeah, it’s our special place,’ she says, breaking into a laugh. ‘Gross! Look away! I often drop in the fact that we hate each other, and I think that balances it out.’

‘General wellbeing isn’t about expecting something – it takes discipline’

HOME TRUTHS

While Jesse and Fearne’s 2011 meeting could be likened to a fairy tale (she was newly single and on a girls’ holiday, he was single, too, their eyes met and the rest is history), at points during their subsequent relationship, they’ve dealt with heavy stuff – their own and one another’s. ‘I think it was quite apparent to him at the time that things were really bad for me, but I’d never said the word depression until I saw a doctor, so, I guess I came home from that and we had a chat,’ Fearne says. ‘He’s sober and has been for five years, and has had a very tricky life in lots of complicated ways… he lost his mum [Ronnie Wood’s first wife, Krissy, in 2005] and she was kind of his main family member,’ she adds. ‘I think we both support each other massively and that’s why our marriage works most of the time… obviously there will be blazing rows like every other couple… there’s no formula that we have.’ Family clearly matters to Fearne. ‘My kids and stepkids are my main focus – these are siblings who are going to grow up as a four,’ she says, radiating happiness. ‘I’ve asked them recently, the older ones, do you feel like half-siblings or siblings? They said, “Siblings! They’re my brother and sister.”’ Growing up, Fearne’s own family dynamic was more ‘2.4’. Her parents, Lin and Mick, are ‘brilliant’, popping over regularly on the weekends. Even with a Rolling Stone in the extended family, Fearne maintains their get-togethers are unremarkable. ‘We might have weird jobs, but nothing weird happens.’ Just an epic veggie shepherd’s pie flanked by an equally grand array of healthy sharing platters. Fearne is evidently determined to do her best at work and at home. But for this time-poor perfectionist, surely something has to give? ‘My social life has gone down the shitter,’ she concedes, shaking her head. ‘I used to see my friends every day, but I just can’t fit it in right now. If I did I’d be burnt out because my work life is so busy. So, I think you do have to lose something.’ Meet-ups with her core group of school friends – mostly working mums – may only occur biannually, but she’s not worried. ‘My girlfriends aren’t going anywhere,’ she says. Then there’s the fact that she’s lived it up XXL for the lion’s share of her adult life. ‘I absolutely did my twenties,’ she smiles. ‘I remember one day I went to Radio 1, flew to Vegas straight after, went out partying with Paris Hilton until 5am, puked, got a flight home, went back to radio,’ she recalls. ‘So I can park it.’ For now, at least. I bring up a line from Happy – ‘I will never be one of those people who has no regrets’ – and ask if this is still the case? ‘I’ve got loads of regrets,’ she says. ‘I don’t understand how you can’t.’ Would she share one with me? ‘You know what? No, because they’re only regrets because they’re that painful to think about. Either decisions made, actions, words spoken… they’re things I can’t find peace with at all,’ she explains. ‘There’s a handful, let’s say, of things that I would do very differently and, when I make peace with them, I’ll probably write a book about them – but I’m not there yet.’ Warm, frank, generous with her story, yet unafraid to politely assert her own boundaries; anyone else want to be a little more Fearne? Quiet: Learning To Silence The Chatter And Believing That You’re Good Enough by Fearne Cotton will be published in hardback on 13 December (£20, Orion Spring)