Category: Columns

Categories
Uncategorized People Culture Columns Lifestyle Health and Fitness

Diary of a Hernia Diva

“Just like a prayer, I’ll take you there “

Madonna Hernia too

It is not just global superstar diva Madonna who has been diagnosed with a hernia. After an agonising pain in my groin that very nearly brought me to my knees, I too discovered that I had joined the hernia club — a membership I certainly hadn’t applied for.

Suddenly, I was well and truly knocked out of my groove. I went from gym bunny to couch potato almost overnight. There would be no Vogue-ing for me for a while.

So here is one diva’s tale of overcoming the pain, indignity and unexpected challenges that come with having a hernia.

I admit that, at 65, my activity levels sometimes make my 26-year-old nephew groan.

“I’m exhausted just watching you,” he says, shaking his head.

I’m rarely out of the gym or sitting still for very long. Add to that a busy social and work life and people often ask me, “How do you do it?”

Well, unexpectedly, it all ground to a rather spectacular halt.

I was dashing with my nephew to catch the Tube at Victoria station when, completely out of the blue, a pain shot through my groin. It was so sharp and sudden that it felt as though someone had stabbed me.

“What’s wrong?” my nephew asked as I doubled over.

Then, almost as quickly as it had arrived, the pain disappeared.

I was left standing there slightly shaken, but we were due to leave for what promised to be an amazing trip to Spain in just a day’s time, visiting one of my closest friends. Surely a little groin pain wasn’t going to stop me?

Later that day, however, the discomfort returned, accompanied by a strange tiredness. But being me, I decided that a few cocktails, some Spanish sunshine and the sea would have me right as rain. I would still be the soul of the party.

And, of course, I was.

I even managed a divine two-and-a-half-hour walk along the Marbella seafront. Pain or no pain, this diva was not giving in without a fight.

But underneath the bravado, I knew something wasn’t right. And like any self-respecting male diva with access to Google and an overactive imagination, naturally I feared the worst.

Having been registered at the same GP surgery for around 20 years, I rarely seem to see the same doctor twice. Once back in London — and while simultaneously dealing with the stress of the airline losing my luggage — I managed to secure that rarest of modern treasures: an actual GP appointment.

I saw a lovely female doctor. With the problem being in the groin area, it was already slightly embarrassing, but almost immediately she began asking about my sex life.

“What sex life?” I joked.

She didn’t laugh.

“When did you last have intercourse?”

Then came questions about my HIV status and other sexual-health matters.

“I abstain,” I replied, by now becoming slightly irritated.

Every avenue seemed to be explored except the one word that eventually mattered: hernia.

That came almost at the last minute.

The doctor disappeared to seek advice and returned saying that it could indeed be a hernia. More worryingly, if there was any possibility that it was a strangulated hernia — a potentially serious complication — I needed to go to A&E.

“Don’t worry,” I was told. “You just need some blood tests and an ultrasound. Take this letter and they should fast-track you.”

Famous last words.

During the hours that followed, I met four other people who appeared to have fallen for a similar line.

Now, this is absolutely not about knocking the NHS. As God is my witness — and all that Gone with the Wind stuff — I remain incredibly grateful that we have it. But dear God, in this age of technology, surely we have to find a better way of managing A&E departments.

Why should people routinely have to sit for four or five hours waiting? There must be a better system.

I have visited hospitals in countries such as Thailand where, if you knew nothing about the healthcare system beforehand, you might wrongly expect something rather old-fashioned. The reality can be the complete opposite: modern, efficient and surprisingly streamlined.

A London A&E waiting room, meanwhile, can occasionally feel like its own form of theatre.

At one point, I encountered a rather terrifying character who suddenly shouted at me like the male version of Catherine Tate’s Nan:

“What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you’re off for a night out. I’ve never seen such healthy people!”

Charming.

Anyway, around five hours later, the very reason we should celebrate the NHS finally appeared in the form of a doctor.

He was excellent.

After examining me and reading the GP’s letter, he looked slightly puzzled and asked why on earth I had been sent to A&E in the first place. They didn’t even perform the particular ultrasound I needed there.

But his advice proved invaluable.

Rather than potentially waiting weeks for the scan, I decided to pay privately for an ultrasound.

And sure enough, there it was.

A hernia.

Suddenly, the stabbing pain, the discomfort while walking and the strange sensation in my groin all had a name.

Then came one side effect I certainly hadn’t expected — an apparent increase in my male libido.

Now, before anyone rushes off in search of a hernia in the hope of spicing up their love life, I should point out that there doesn’t appear to be medical evidence that a groin hernia actually increases libido. It may simply have been that, with pain, pressure and irritation in an area packed with nerves, I had suddenly become far more aware of that particular region of my anatomy.

Either way, confined increasingly to the sofa, banned from the gym and temporarily deprived of my usual bouncing around, it was reassuring to discover that while the hernia may have slowed me down, it certainly hadn’t switched everything off.

Still looking good — just moving at a slightly more dignified pace.

And unfortunately, my hernia story was only just beginning…

The guilty party

When the Hernia Took Charge

Despite everything, I was still trying to dash around as though nothing had happened.

My hernia, however, had other ideas.

I only had to walk so far before the pain would suddenly kick in and become so intense that I could barely put one foot in front of the other. On one occasion, it became so bad that I found myself clinging to a wall, seriously considering calling an ambulance.

For someone who is normally fiercely independent, constantly on the move and more likely to be found in the gym than lying on the sofa, it was frightening.

Nothing highlighted just how much my life had changed more than a journey home from my pre-operative assessment.

By what felt like a combination of luck, divine intervention and a minor miracle, I had been given a date for surgery. Even more impressively, the staff at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital were carrying out pre-operative assessments on a Sunday.

My assessment was incredibly thorough. Blood tests, an ECG, questions, checks — the lot. Everything seemed fine and, reassured, I headed home.

That was when I realised I had overdone it.

By the time I reached the Underground, the pain was excruciating. I found myself gripping the wall just to stay upright. Two incredibly kind men stopped and asked if they could help me, but there really wasn’t much anybody could do.

I simply had to stop, wait for the pain to ease and somehow get myself home.

The severity of the pain had already made me seek a private surgical opinion. Because the pain seemed disproportionate to what had been described as a relatively small hernia, an MRI was suggested to rule out another cause.

At around £1,300, however, that was simply not within my budget.

Besides, the hernia still needed repairing. My thinking became very simple: deal with what we know is there first. If the pain continued afterwards, then we could investigate something else.

And so, finally, the big day arrived.

Operation Diva

29 September. 7.30am.

Check-in time.

I arrived at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital full of nerves and running on an empty stomach after fasting overnight. Thankfully, I was still allowed clear fluids until two hours beforehand, which meant one thing was non-negotiable: coffee.

And what an excellent black coffee it was, courtesy of Social Impact Coffee inside the hospital. Frankly, at that hour of the morning, facing surgery on no breakfast, it felt medicinal.

Then I met a lovely nurse called Katalina, who told me to take a seat.

Katalina, incidentally, barely seemed to take a break herself for the entire time I was there. She was constantly on the move, looking after everyone, answering questions and somehow remaining cheerful throughout.

At around 8.30am, the anaesthetist appeared carrying his motorcycle helmet.

Very reassuring. Presumably, if anything went wrong, he had a fast getaway vehicle.

He explained the anaesthetic and the drugs I would be given.

My immediate thought was Edina Monsoon in Absolutely Fabulous: “I want every drug going, and I want them now.”

Joking aside, this was probably the moment when my nerves really kicked in.

Before surgery, the anaesthetist has to explain the possible risks and side effects. Of course, it is important that patients know these things, but when you are already nervous and sitting there waiting to be knocked unconscious, hearing a list of everything that could happen is hardly relaxing.

Did you know about redheads and anaesthesia? Research has suggested that people with naturally red hair can respond differently to certain anaesthetics and may sometimes require different amounts.

Who knew being ginger could even complicate being knocked out?

Around 9.30am, one of the surgical team came to see me.

He was wonderfully reassuring.

I raised my concern about whether I should have had the MRI first, particularly because of the amount of pain I had been experiencing. He explained that size does not necessarily determine how painful a hernia will be. Smaller hernias can sometimes cause considerable pain, particularly depending on what is protruding through the defect and the surrounding tissues involved.

That immediately made me feel better. Perhaps the hernia really was responsible for all this pain after all.

Then came the news that tested even my patience.

The room I had been given was mine for the duration of my day stay because my operation was not scheduled until around 3pm.

Three o’clock!

I had checked in at 7.30 in the morning.

By midday, Katalina suddenly appeared with much more promising news.

“You’re next.”

Music to my ears.

I was instructed to change into the glamorous surgical ensemble — gown and compression stockings. Not quite Versace, but needs must.

I thought this meant I was about to be whisked straight into theatre.

It didn’t.

Meanwhile, I had now gone around 17 hours without food and, whether through nerves, my digestive system staging its own protest, or both, I had been to the toilet about five times.

There is nothing quite like impending surgery for discovering bodily functions you didn’t know you had.

Then, finally, at around 3.10pm, a porter appeared.

This was it.

Unfortunately, there was one more hurdle between me and the operating theatre.

I was on the fifth floor and I have a serious fear of heights. Glass walkways are my idea of hell. Put me on solid ground and I am fine; let me see five floors beneath my feet and suddenly my legs stop cooperating.

The staff arranged a wheelchair.I closed my eyes.

Problem solved.

Or so I thought.

As we crossed a ramp, the wheelchair was pulled rather forcefully and the sudden movement sent an agonising pain through my groin.

By the time I reached the theatre area and was lying there waiting to go under, all fear had temporarily disappeared.

I just wanted the hernia gone.

Lights above me. People moving around. Final checks.

Then the anaesthetic.

And darkness.

“Where Am I?”

Sometime after five o’clock, I began to wake up.

Or at least I think I did.

Everything was hazy. I was extremely disorientated and struggling to work out where I was or what was happening around me.

The operation itself was over.

The surgeon was apparently happy with how things had gone and, surgically, there was no immediate reason why I couldn’t go home.

But the recovery team had other ideas.

I was simply too disorientated.

There followed a conversation between the medical staff about whether I should be discharged or kept in overnight. For a while, it seemed I might still be heading home.

Then the decision was made.

The Hernia Diva was staying the night.

Not quite the glamorous overnight stay I might usually have chosen.

No room service, no champagne, no fluffy bathrobe — but plenty of observations, painkillers and nurses keeping a very close eye on me.

Rain, my nurse, was truly remarkable, and what followed turned into a night to remember.

The man next to me was living with Alzheimer’s and believed there was a conspiracy going on. He thought people were trying to kill and sexually assault him. Adjacent to him was another man in such severe pain that the slightest noise was setting him off, and he began threatening the man with Alzheimer’s.

Then the gentleman with Alzheimer’s went off on a rant about gay sex, despite being heterosexual himself, and eventually the man next to him had simply had enough.

Seemingly, as I nodded off thanks to the magic of morphine, security arrived to remove the gentleman with dementia.

I felt incredibly sorry for him. He was clearly frightened, confused and unwell, but it also seemed that nobody was properly equipped to deal with his level of distress. What he was doing on a general ward in that condition raised some serious questions for me about the NHS and how we care for people living with dementia.

Rain and the rest of the staff were incredible. They even gave me breakfast. However, at certain points during the night, I did wonder whether I was in a hospital or somehow appearing on the set of the prison drama Oz.

Next, the surgeon arrived to discharge me. He was rather non-committal, although everything appeared to have gone well and my discharge papers confirmed that the operation had been completed.

I asked him, “Had there been any complications?”

His reply wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“There are always possibilities. That’s why we tell you about them before and after.”

Well, I was alive.

Then I was given some strong painkillers and told to go downstairs to the pharmacy for the rest of my medication.

Forty-five minutes later, we were still waiting, only to discover that they were over-the-counter medications.

Finally, after a rather bumpy drive home with my adorable friend Remmia, there was only one thing on my mind.

I couldn’t wait to sleep.

And after weeks of pain, worry, cancelled plans, Google searches, hospital visits and wondering whether something else might be wrong, one enormous question remained:

Had the operation actually worked?

I was about to find out….

Categories
Columns Health and Fitness Lifestyle People

STEVEN’S VIEWZ

It’s Called Show Business, Not Show Politics

By Steven Smith

There is an old saying: it’s called show business, not show friends. Perhaps we should now add: it’s not called show politics either.

If you are lucky enough to have been given a gift, or developed a craft that has made you famous, people are paying to see you perform. They have bought a ticket to hear you sing, watch you act, laugh at your comedy or simply be entertained. They have not necessarily paid to hear your political views or be lectured about the causes you support.

Of course, there is a time and place for everything.

If you are performing at a charity event, then absolutely talk about the charity. Fill your boots! You are there to help, raise awareness and, hopefully, raise money. If you are a singer who has written a commercial song highlighting a cause that matters to you, then sing it. Music, theatre, film and art have always been ways of expressing ideas, challenging opinions and starting conversations.

Look at the brilliance of Bob Geldof, Midge Ure and Live Aid. In 1985, some of the biggest names in music came together for an event specifically created to raise money for famine relief in Ethiopia. The cause wasn’t an unexpected lecture halfway through an unrelated evening — it was the reason everyone was there.

But the audience should know what they are buying into.

Performance artists such as David Hoyle, or artists like Marina Abramović, are different. Their work is often provocative, challenging and designed to make a statement. You go in knowing that you may hear an opinion, be confronted by an idea or even have your own beliefs challenged. That’s absolutely fine — it does what it says on the tin. The statement is part of the performance, and the audience knows that before they walk through the door.

David Hoyle performance artist you go knowing that you will hear is views ie it is what is on the tin.

If an artist intends to turn a concert into a political platform, particularly on an issue that has little or nothing to do with the performance, I believe the audience has a right to decide whether they want to be there. Their views may be the complete opposite of the person on stage, or they may simply want an evening of entertainment without politics entering the room.

There is also nothing wrong with a performer deciding that politics matters more to them than show business. Glenda Jackson is a perfect example of someone who made that choice openly.

Jackson was one of Britain’s most acclaimed actors and a two-time Academy Award winner. In the early 1990s, she stepped away from acting and entered politics, becoming the Labour MP for Hampstead and Highgate in 1992. She remained an MP for 23 years, including serving as a government minister, before leaving Parliament in 2015 and returning to acting.

Whatever your political views, there is something refreshingly straightforward about that decision. She wanted to enter politics, so she stood for Parliament. She did not expect audiences buying theatre or cinema tickets to elect her.

Perhaps one of my favourite show-business stories involves the late, great Dolly Parton and Julia Roberts while filming Steel Magnolias. The cast were shooting in the sweltering Louisiana heat and everyone was complaining — except Dolly. Roberts, amazed that Dolly wasn’t joining in despite the wig, heavy clothes and heat, asked her why.

Dolly’s response was wonderfully simple: “When I was a little girl, I wanted to be famous and I wanted to be rich, and now I’m both those things. I’m not going to complain about it.”

What a fabulous attitude.

There are thousands of extraordinarily talented actors, singers and performers who would give anything for the opportunity to stand on that stage, walk onto that film set or hear an audience applaud them. Perhaps sometimes, amid the fame, money and attention, it is worth remembering just how fortunate you are to have made it there in the first place.

As Dolly understood better than most: enjoy the privilege, do the job — and put on the show.

The recent palaver surrounding the legendary Dame Maureen Lipman also got me thinking. Two actors withdrew from Right Before I Go following her casting, citing disagreement with views she had publicly expressed.

Now, goodness knows, over the years I have worked with people who held views I found horrible. I’ve lost count. But maturity surely means accepting that you can work alongside someone without agreeing with everything they think.

Sometimes you can even change someone’s mind — or they might make you reconsider something yourself.

It’s show business, not show friends. And if you are fortunate enough to be earning your living as an actor, let alone working alongside somebody with decades of experience and talent, perhaps there is something to be gained from the experience even when you disagree with them.

As I like to say: eat it up, buttercup.

Celebrities, like everybody else, have every right to hold strong political opinions. Fame does not take away your freedom of speech. Equally, buying a ticket to see someone perform does not mean an audience has agreed with everything that performer believes.

I wouldn’t expect The Phantom of the Opera to suddenly stop halfway through so the cast could share their political views. Nor would I expect A Midsummer Night’s Dream to grind to a halt for a political speech unrelated to Shakespeare’s play. In much the same way, I don’t expect my plumber or hairdresser to stop halfway through their work to give me a lecture on their politics.

There is another side to this that troubles me: our increasing inability to tolerate people whose opinions oppose our own.

I am a huge advocate of allowing people into my life whose views are different from mine. Sometimes friendship, affection and respect are built on far more than agreeing about politics. As long as somebody isn’t permanently standing on their soapbox preaching at me, I’m perfectly happy to have a lively debate.

What I find far more troubling is the idea of simply cancelling or silencing people with whom we disagree.

There is an old saying: keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. I would adapt that slightly: keep listening to the people you disagree with.

How on earth are we supposed to understand what is happening in society if we refuse to hear opinions we dislike? Silencing an opinion doesn’t necessarily make that opinion disappear. It can simply mean we stop hearing it. Then, suddenly, we are shocked when a movement, idea or political force gains ground that we never saw coming.

Listening is not the same as agreeing.

Social media has also changed the relationship between celebrities and the public. Stars now have direct access to millions of followers and can express their views whenever they wish. If someone wants to campaign, protest or support a cause online, people can choose whether to follow, engage, debate — or simply scroll straight past.

A live performance feels different because the audience has paid to be there.

Please campaign, march, raise money, support charities and speak passionately about the things that matter to you. Debate with people who disagree with you rather than automatically shutting them out. And if politics becomes your true calling, perhaps follow Glenda Jackson’s example and enter politics yourself.

But when the lights go down and the curtain goes up, sometimes we simply want the show.

Steven Smith
Steven’s Viewz

listen to Steven on Gateway radio

https://www.gateway978.com/?s=Steven+Smith+

Categories
Columns Culture Lifestyle People

Bloom After Dark – Starting Again at 50

By Aless Bester, with reflections from Anna Kennedy OBE

Photo of Aless and Anna Kennedy OBE by David Biddlecombe

“I accidentally created a fashion label by starting again at 50!”

For Alessandra Bester, the journey to London Fashion Week began in a way she could never have predicted.

An artist and mum to her son Ethan, a young man with autism and bipolar disorder who requires full-time care, Alessandra has spent much of her life balancing creativity with the demands of caring for someone she loves.

“We are a great team,” she says simply.

Yet it was Ethan who, quite unexpectedly, helped inspire what would become an extraordinary new chapter in his mum’s life.

Alessandra originally bought a 3D pen for him, but she wasn’t happy with the materials supplied with it. Looking for something more environmentally friendly and easier to work with, she began experimenting herself.

That search opened up an entirely new creative world.

Fascinated by what could be achieved with the pen, Alessandra started exploring its possibilities. What began as experimentation soon developed into something far more ambitious.

After sharing one of her handmade necklaces on Instagram, she was invited to include her work in Aether Magazine’s 10th anniversary London Fashion Week show.

There was no looking back.

Working around Ethan’s needs, Alessandra began drawing and creating outfits whenever she had the opportunity. The flexibility of the 3D pen proved perfect for her circumstances: she could pick it up when she had time and put it down the moment Ethan needed her.

Slowly, painstakingly and piece by piece, an entire collection began to emerge.

Bloom After Dark

The resulting collection, “Bloom After Dark,” is a striking series of sculptural, moving garments hand-drawn entirely using a 3D pen.

But this is about much more than fashion.

At its heart, “Bloom After Dark” is a story of resilience, liberation and renewal after periods of profound darkness. Each garment challenges traditional ideas about how clothes should be made, what fashion can represent and even how it can be experienced.

The collection takes inspiration from real people — their personalities, individuality, characteristics and neurodiversity.

Using a 3D pen and bio-flexible material, Alessandra effectively draws directly into space, creating textiles, garments and accessories entirely by hand.

Perhaps what makes her work even more remarkable is that her approach has not come through traditional fashion education. Instead, it has developed through curiosity, experimentation and life experience, together with the freedom of not feeling restricted by established fashion rules.

That freedom sits at the heart of “Bloom After Dark”.

Alessandra wants us to look at clothing and accessories differently. Rather than simply asking what something is supposed to be, she encourages us to imagine what else it could become.

An accessory might be worn, interpreted and styled completely differently from one person to another. In turn, its life can be extended, encouraging individuality and creativity while questioning our increasingly disposable culture.

Beginning this journey at 50 is also an important part of Alessandra’s story.

It is a powerful reminder that experience, imagination and creativity do not suddenly come with an expiry date. Sometimes the most exciting chapter of our lives can begin when we least expect it.

Anna Kennedy OBE Shares Her Reflections

“I was honoured to be a special guest at Alessandra’s ‘Bloom After Dark’ fashion show.

“I have known Aless for more than ten years. We originally connected when she spoke to me about some of the difficulties she was experiencing around her son Ethan’s education.

“Over the years, I have interviewed Aless several times, including on Women’s Radio, Gateway Radio and Sky TV’s The Chrissy B Show. Our conversations have covered many subjects close to both our hearts — autism, education, allergies, nutrition and, of course, our sons.

“I remember Aless telling me about the company she had created at the time, Nono Cocoa, and I was proud to support what she was doing.

“So, to be there years later watching her first fashion show was quite something. I was absolutely blown away by her creativity and everything she had achieved.

“What also meant a great deal to me was seeing the people modelling her designs. Six of the models are autistic, while Annelie, who has Down syndrome, is part of Drag Syndrome. For me, that made the evening even more special.

“I have watched Aless go through different chapters of her life over the years, always with Ethan at the heart of everything she does. Now, at 50, she has started another chapter — and what a chapter it is.

“As a mam myself, I know only too well how much of our lives can be shaped around the needs of our sons. Sometimes our own ideas and dreams have to fit into whatever spaces we can find.

“That is why Aless’s story really struck a chord with me. She found something she could create around Ethan’s needs, picked up that 3D pen and simply kept going.

“And now her work has reached London Fashion Week.

“I was incredibly proud to be there supporting Aless and Ethan and watching ‘Bloom After Dark’ come to life.

“Sometimes life takes us down roads we never expected. And sometimes starting again at 50 can be the beginning of something quite extraordinary.”

Anna Kennedy OBE
Founder and Chair, Anna Kennedy Online

https://by-spoton.com/?fbclid=IwVERDUAUabFJwZG9mBWV4dG4DYWVtAjEwAHNydGMGYXBwX2lkDDM1MDY4NTUzMTcyOAABHmr0rq5dQiG2zagdH4-wYk7OZfNQp0h9TfffPlIerSxFHCRn1Zgxe2pTgCNx_aem_-7hM4PTQVV5jinpB5lM6eA

Autism’s Got Talent
Categories
Columns Culture Health and Fitness Lifestyle People

Mike Edde’s Hair Tips

Get the Haaland Look This Fall

Mike Edde tells you how to get the look this fall they are all talking about.

When Erling Haaland decided to say goodbye to his famous long blond hair and reveal a dramatically short buzz cut, he certainly got people talking. It is a huge change from the Viking-style ponytail we have become used to seeing, but it is also one of the easiest men’s looks to recreate.

So, if you are tempted to follow Haaland and go for the chop this autumn, here is how to do it — and, just as importantly, how to grow it back out when you are ready for another change.

The first thing I would say is: don’t just tell your barber to shave it all off! Haaland’s look might appear incredibly simple, but you still want the cut to work with your head shape, hairline and hair density.

Ask for a very short, even buzz cut, approximately a grade one or two. Your barber can advise whether going slightly longer would be more flattering for you. The beauty of this haircut is that it is clean, masculine and incredibly low maintenance. There is virtually no styling involved — you can wash it, dry it and go.

However, the shorter the hair, the more noticeable the regrowth becomes. If you want to keep that freshly cut Haaland appearance, I would recommend having it tidied approximately every two to four weeks. Keeping the neckline and edges neat makes all the difference.

And remember your scalp. Once you remove longer hair, an area of skin that has been protected is suddenly much more exposed. Use a gentle shampoo, avoid piling on unnecessary styling products and, even during autumn, think about SPF if your scalp is exposed to the sun.

What happens when you want your long hair back?

This is where patience comes in.

Hair generally grows around a centimetre or so each month, although everybody is different. The biggest mistake men make when growing out a buzz cut is simply abandoning the barber altogether.

Instead, have small maintenance trims while allowing the overall length to develop. Your barber can gradually reshape the hair as it grows, keeping the back and sides under control while allowing more length through the top. This prevents that awkward stage from looking quite so awkward!

As it becomes longer, start introducing a lightweight conditioner to keep the hair healthy and manageable. Avoid excessive heat and heavy styling products, and don’t be tempted to keep cutting it back every time it reaches an annoying stage.

If your eventual goal is Haaland’s old long-haired look, you are playing the long game. Once it reaches sufficient length, you can begin wearing it swept back before eventually progressing to a low ponytail or bun.

So, could you brave the Haaland buzz cut?

I say if you have been thinking about going dramatically shorter, autumn is the perfect time to try it. Hair grows back — and sometimes a completely different look is exactly what we need.

Mike x


Address: 54C Kenway Rd, London SW5 0RA

Phone: 020 7370 6983

Hours: 

9 am  · Closes 6 pm

Categories
Columns Culture People

Back in May 2Shades writer Steven Smith Celebrated his Birthday in Style at the Firepit Gallery in London .

Picture Andy Barnes Pamela Sharrock , Denise Welch , Steven Smith Vicki Michelle ,

Back in May 2Shades writer celebrated his birthday here is the article that was held back

Pictures by Andy Barnes 

Former celebrity hairdresser turned author, writer and broadcaster Steven Smith celebrated his milestone birthday in true glamorous fashion with a star-studded gathering at the much-loved Firepit Gallery in London.

The special celebration was not simply about marking another birthday — it was also held in aid of Anna Kennedy Online, the autism charity that Steven has proudly supported as a patron for the past 12 years. Friends, supporters and familiar faces from the worlds of entertainment, media and charity gathered, despite soaring temperatures, to celebrate a man many affectionately describe as a loyal friend, generous supporter and tireless champion of good causes.

Among those joining Steven for the occasion was Dr Anna Kennedy OBE, founder of Anna Kennedy Online, whose work supporting autistic people and their families has transformed countless lives. Steven has long been a passionate advocate for the charity and has supported many of its flagship events over the years, including Autism’s Got Talent, the Autism Hero Awards, and the Autism & Art Show.

The evening also became a reunion of cherished friendships spanning decades. One of the most touching appearances came from actress and presenter Denise Welch, Steven’s best friend of 45 years. Denise, who recently returned to television screens in Tip Toe, written by Russell T Davies for Channel 4, made time to celebrate the occasion with her long-time friend.

Denise Welch and Anna Kennedy OBE Picture Andy Barnes

Steven first met Denise back in Brighton, when she was appearing in the play Nigeria Falls, and the pair have remained close ever since, supporting one another through the highs and lows of both life and career.

Another familiar face lending support was actress and presenter Vicki Michelle, best known and adored for her role in the iconic comedy series ’Allo ’Allo!. A long-time friend of Steven’s and fellow patron of Anna Kennedy Online, Vicki has been an unwavering supporter of the charity for many years. Whether attending Autism’s Got Talent, judging at the Autism Hero Awards, or supporting the Autism Art Exhibition — even purchasing artwork to encourage autistic artists — her commitment has remained steadfast.

Aston Avery picture Andy Barnes .

Speaking warmly about Steven, Vicki said:

“I have known Steven for years. He is a rock to many and does so much for charity. We love him.”

Also joining the celebrations were the ever-glamorous presenter and author Wendy Turner Webster and her husband, acting favourite Gary Webster, best known for Minder and EastEnders. Long-time friends of Steven and dedicated supporters of Anna Kennedy Online, Wendy and Gary have also lent their time over the years as judges at the Autism Hero Awards, helping to champion extraordinary people making a difference within the autism community.

Picture Andy Barnes Wendy Turner Webster and Gary Webster and Steven Smith.

Guests were treated to entertainment throughout the evening, with talented singer Tilly Aston delighting attendees with a stunning live performance. Meanwhile, DJ Sumz kept the atmosphere electric, ensuring guests danced late into the evening as laughter, friendship and celebration filled the Firepit Gallery.

Picture by Andy Barnes Tilly Aston

As birthdays go, Steven Smith’s 65th was not simply glamorous — it was heartfelt, filled with friendship, and reflected the generosity and kindness of a man who has spent much of his life giving back to others while never losing his sparkle. A birthday to remember, and proof that at 65, Steven Smith still knows exactly how to throw a fabulous party.

Long term friends Marieanne Nanson In red Irene Nanson , Rachel Zisser shades money man Richard Andrews actor Matthew

The evening raised over £1,000 for Anna Kennedy Online — making the celebration not only memorable, but meaningful too.

Denise Welch and Steven Smith.
Home
https://www.firepit.art

Food  https://barbrothersevents.co.uk

https://www.channel4.com/programmes/tip-toe

Music SUMZ https://www.instagram.com/soundtraxmusic?igsh=MW94YzdjY2RlM2RmMg%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

Categories
Columns Lifestyle People Uncategorized

Thirteen Years with Anna Kennedy Online: Celebrating 15 Years of Autism’s Got Talent

By Steven Smith

Looking through my old photographs brings back an extraordinary collection of memories. But what really stands out among them is my time with Anna Kennedy Online and, in particular, being a volunteer for Autism’s Got Talent. This year marks the 15th anniversary of Autism’s Got Talent, and for 13 of those years I have had the privilege of being involved.

When I first became involved, I could never have imagined the journey ahead. There have been red carpets, interviews, photographs, laughter, a few tears and, above all, some truly remarkable people. What started as supporting Anna and her work became something very personal to me. Thirteen years later, I am incredibly proud to have been asked to become, and to remain, one of the patrons of Anna Kennedy Online.

At the heart of it all is, of course, Dr Anna Kennedy OBE. Anna is one of those people who simply does not give up. I have watched her campaign, encourage, fight for families and create opportunities for autistic people year after year. We have stood together at countless events, and I have seen first-hand just how much work goes on behind the scenes.

We joke that Anna can get you to move mountains, even when you had no idea you could!

Today, the charity is involved in so much more, including Autism & Art, the Autism Hero Awards and many other events and initiatives throughout the year.

But one event has always had a particularly special place in my heart: Autism’s Got Talent. It was through this wonderful event that I really became part of the team.

The name may say “Got Talent”, but this has never been a competition. There are no winners and losers. It is about giving autistic performers a stage on which they can simply be themselves, celebrate their talents and show an audience exactly what they can do.

Over the years, I have watched performers walk onto that stage nervous and walk off absolutely glowing. Singers, dancers, musicians, comedians and performers with talents you could never predict have all become part of its history. Some moments have made us roar with laughter; others have left us fighting back tears.

The photographs here capture just a fraction of my own journey. The hairstyles may have changed — and looking back, perhaps some of the suits should remain firmly in the past! — but my reason for being there has never changed.

I have met wonderful families, performers, volunteers, supporters and fellow patrons. Some have become genuine friends. There is a sense of family surrounding Anna Kennedy Online that is difficult to explain until you have experienced it for yourself.

One of those friendships is with Aston Avery and his family. I will never forget meeting Aston and his mum and dad, Dawn and Keith. We became instant friends, and today I have the pleasure of joining Aston for our monthly show on Gateway Radio in Essex. Aston’s talent continues to blow me away, but equally impressive is his commitment to charity work and volunteering. He is an absolute credit to his family, and watching his journey over the years has been a privilege.

What I also love is how Autism’s Got Talent has evolved. Autism awareness has changed enormously during those years, but there is still so much work to do. Awareness is important, but acceptance, inclusion, opportunity and respect matter even more.

On 10 October 2026, Autism’s Got Talent returns to London’s Mermaid Theatre for its 15th anniversary. It promises to be an emotional night for everyone who has been part of its story.

For me, it will also be a chance to look back over 13 years and think: Where on earth did that time go?

I am immensely proud to have played my small part in this journey and even prouder of Anna, the team and, most importantly, every autistic performer who has had the courage to step onto that stage and share their talent with us.

Thirteen years has given me friendships, memories and moments I will treasure forever. And if there is one thing I have learned from Anna and Autism’s Got Talent, it is never to underestimate what someone can achieve when they are simply given the opportunity to shine.

Happy 15th anniversary, Autism’s Got Talent. Here’s to the next chapter. ❤️\

To sponsor or buy tickets

Categories
Columns Culture Lifestyle People Uncategorized

ART ATTACK

Nelly K at the Firepit https://www.firepit.art


Healing through art Steven Smith chats to Nelly K

Art can be beautiful. It can be decorative. It can make us smile, stop us in our tracks or completely divide opinion. But at its most powerful, art can also start conversations about subjects we sometimes find difficult to put into words.

For artist Nelly K, creativity is about far more than producing something to hang on a wall. It is a way of communicating, challenging perceptions and, importantly, helping to break down the stigma that still surrounds mental health.

After earning her degree in Art from Birmingham University, Nelly began developing a creative path that brought together two things she cares deeply about: artistic expression and social impact.

Her work is bold, thought-provoking and unafraid to tackle difficult subjects. Rather than staying within the traditional boundaries of art, Nelly uses her creativity as a catalyst for conversation and change, exploring mental health and the way it is viewed and discussed within society.

Throughout her career, she has exhibited in local galleries, worked alongside mental health organisations, appeared on podcasts and become involved in community projects designed to encourage greater understanding and inclusivity.

There is also something very human at the heart of what she does. Art can give us a voice when finding the right words feels impossible. It can make the invisible visible and allow someone else’s experience to suddenly feel a little less distant.

Nelly remains committed to the belief that art shouldn’t simply be about personal expression. It can advocate, educate and even play a part in healing.

That immediately caught my attention.

So, for this edition of Art Attack, I wanted to find out more about the woman behind the work. Where does her inspiration come from? Why has mental health become such an important part of her artistic identity? Does an artist have a responsibility to challenge society? And can a painting genuinely change the way we think?

It’s time to meet Nelly K.

1. Nelly, let’s start right at the beginning. Were you one of those children who was always drawing and creating, or did your love affair with art come later?

I think creativity has always been part of who I am. Art became a way for me to express things that weren’t always easy to put into words. Over time, I realised that creativity could be much more than personal expression; it could be a way of understanding myself, connecting with others and exploring the world around me.

My relationship with art has grown alongside my own personal journey. It has given me a voice and, importantly, a way to explore identity, both my own and the identities of the people whose stories I encounter.

2. You studied Art at Birmingham University. What did those years teach you, not just technically, but about the sort of artist you wanted to become?

Studying Art at Birmingham University gave me the space to experiment, challenge myself and really think about the purpose behind what I was creating.

Technically, I learned a great deal, but the biggest lesson was realising that I wanted my work to mean something beyond the visual. I wanted to use art as a form of storytelling and as a way of starting conversations about issues that affect people in real life.

Those years helped me understand that I wanted to be an artist whose work combined creativity with social impact; someone unafraid to explore difficult subjects while still leaving room for hope.

3. Mental health is central to much of your work. Was there a particular moment or experience that made you realise this was something you wanted to explore through your art?

My practice is deeply rooted in my own journey and in the real experiences of people I meet. That authenticity is incredibly important to me.

I became interested in exploring mental health through art because I recognised that people are often far more complex than the labels society gives them. Our emotional wellbeing is influenced by our background, experiences, relationships and sense of self.

Art gave me the freedom to explore those complexities without reducing anyone to a diagnosis or a single story. I wanted to create work that encourages people to look beyond stigma and see the person first.

Nelly at the Firepit https://www.firepit.art

4. Mental health awareness has improved enormously, yet stigma certainly hasn’t disappeared. What frustrates you most about the way society still talks about mental health?

What frustrates me most is that awareness doesn’t always equal understanding. We have become much better at talking about mental health, but people can still feel judged or defined by a diagnosis or difficult period in their lives.

There is no single experience that represents everyone. Our backgrounds and circumstances shape how we experience the world, which is why listening is so important.

I think we need to become more comfortable with complexity and allow people to define themselves rather than having society do it for them.

5. Your work can be bold and thought-provoking. When you begin a piece, do you start with the image, an emotion, or with the message you want the viewer to take away?

Usually, it begins with a feeling, a story or a question. Sometimes it comes from something personal, and sometimes inspiration comes from something I have witnessed or heard.

The image often develops alongside the message. Visual storytelling is a huge part of my practice, and I’m fascinated by the way an image can communicate something that words sometimes cannot.

I don’t want to tell the viewer exactly what to think. I’d rather leave enough space for people to bring their own experiences and interpretations to the work.

6. Art is incredibly subjective. Have you ever created something that provoked a reaction you weren’t expecting, either positively or negatively?

Absolutely. Once you put artwork into the world, you lose complete control over how it will be interpreted. People bring their own memories, emotions and experiences to it, and they may see something completely different from what you originally intended.

That is one of the things I find most powerful about art. Something that begins as very personal to me can take on an entirely different meaning for somebody else.

Those unexpected reactions remind me that art doesn’t always need to provide answers. Sometimes simply making somebody stop, think or feel something is enough.

7. Is there one piece you’ve created that feels particularly personal to you, perhaps one that was difficult to make or that you found emotional to let go of?

The pieces that feel most personal are often the ones rooted most closely in my own journey. Creating them requires vulnerability because you are revealing something of yourself through the work.

We often see vulnerability as weakness, but I see it very differently. There can be enormous strength in allowing yourself to be open.

Letting go of a personal piece can be emotional, but there is also something wonderful about knowing that something which began with you can go on to have a life and meaning of its own.

8. You’ve worked with mental health organisations, podcasts and community projects. Has anyone ever approached you and told you that your art genuinely helped them or made them feel understood? How did that make you feel?

That is probably one of the most meaningful things an artist can hear. When somebody tells me that a piece has resonated with them personally, it reminds me why I create.

My work isn’t about speaking for other people or telling them who they are. I simply want to open a door to conversations that might otherwise be difficult to have.

Knowing that something I created has touched somebody or made them feel less alone is incredibly humbling. Moments like that stay with you.

9. If money, space and practicalities were no object, what would be your dream piece or exhibition to create, and where would you love to see it exhibited?

My dream would be to create a large-scale immersive exhibition that takes people on a real emotional journey.

It would bring together many different voices and perspectives, exploring not only struggle but vulnerability, resilience, healing, joy and celebration. I’d want visitors to experience something rather than simply walk around looking at pictures on walls.

I would love it to be staged in a major public cultural space, but ultimately I’d want it to travel. Art with an important message shouldn’t be restricted to traditional galleries or to people who already feel comfortable entering those spaces.

10. Finally, complete this sentence for me: “Without art, I would…”

Without art, I would be missing one of the most honest ways I know to understand myself, connect with others and make sense of the world.

Quick Fire

1. The most romantic place in London?

My bed.

2. What is your favourite colour?

Yellow. Loud, warm, fun and full of energy — a bit like myself!

3. Best meal you have ever had?

Every meal my mother made.

4. Can you describe happiness?

Happiness is feeling free to be yourself, feeling understood and fully present in the moment. Usually when it’s just me and my paintbrush.

5. Why do you love the Firepit Gallery?I love the Firepit Gallery because it feels like a place where creativity and people naturally come together. It gives artists the freedom to share their voices while making art feel welcoming and accessible. There’s a genuine sense that everyone is invited to be part of it, and I think spaces like that are incredibly important

https://www.firepit.art

Categories
Columns Health and Fitness Lifestyle People

Anna Kennedy’s September Column

Hi everyone!

September is already proving to be an incredibly busy month, and I am super excited with the preparations for the 15th anniversary of Autism’s Got Talent, taking place on 10th October.

It’s hard to believe that we are celebrating 15 years of this very special event! Over the years, Autism’s Got Talent has given so many talented autistic performers the opportunity to take to the stage, showcase their abilities and, most importantly, shine.

We are still looking for sponsors to support this year’s Autism’s Got Talent, so if you, your business or someone you know would like to get involved and help us make our 15th anniversary celebration extra special, you can find all the sponsorship details here in 2Shades:

PLEASE BECOME A SPONSOR FOR AUTISM’S GOT TALENT

We are also still buzzing from the huge success of Autism & Art. The response to the exhibition was absolutely wonderful, and it was fantastic to see so much incredible creativity on display.

In fact, it was such a success that Marcus Jake at the FirePit Gallery, with the help of one of our patrons, Steven Smith, has agreed to host Autism & Art again next year!

So, to all of our wonderful artists and budding artists out there, please get painting and creating. You could have the opportunity to see your artwork proudly displayed at next year’s exhibition. We cannot wait to see what you create!

We also managed to let our hair down a little at the gallery with a fantastic karaoke evening. It was a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the birthdays of Marcus Jake and another of our biggest supporters, talented artist and photographer Anne-Marie Bickerton. There was plenty of singing, laughter and, most importantly, a chance to celebrate with some very special friends and supporters.

Letting our hair down at the Firepit gallery for owner Marcus Jake and Anne-Marie Bickerton’s birthday .

Another great moment came courtesy of Aston Avery, who did us proud at Chelmsford Theatre when he was Highly Commended at the BBC Make a Difference Awards.

What a sleek and wonderful awards show it was, with so many impressive and inspiring entries. It was fantastic to see people being recognised for the difference they make within their communities, and we were extremely proud to see Aston receive such well-deserved recognition.

Patron Aston Avery receives his award

Finally, don’t forget to get your tickets for the 15th anniversary of Autism’s Got Talent on 10th October. It promises to be another unforgettable evening celebrating some truly incredible talent.

You can get your tickets here:

Autism’s Got Talent

Thank you, as always, for your continued support. There is so much happening, and I’m looking forward to sharing more news with you very soon!

Anna Kennedy OBE

ANNA’S BOOK REVIEW

La Verdad Sobre el Autismo – Lo que nadie quiere contar

The Truth About Autism – What Nobody Wants to Talk About

By Fernando Cabal

For almost 30 years, I have been campaigning for autistic children and adults and, just as importantly, for the families who love them, care for them and sometimes have to fight very hard to get the right support.

If there is one thing I have learned over the years, it is that there is no single autism story.

Every autistic person is different, every family is different, and their experiences can be very different too.

Fernando Cabal’s La Verdad Sobre el Autismo is not an easy or comfortable read, and I don’t think it is meant to be.

Fernando wants people to talk about a side of autism that he believes is too often overlooked.

We quite rightly celebrate autistic talent, achievements and difference. Through my charity and Autism’s Got Talent, I have had the privilege of meeting some incredible autistic performers, artists, speakers and young people who have achieved things that perhaps other people once thought were impossible.

I will always celebrate those achievements.

However, we must also make sure we don’t forget autistic people with more complex support needs, like my son Angelo, and the families supporting them day and night.

Fernando writes about autistic people who may be non-speaking or pre-verbal, who may self-injure, who need round-the-clock supervision or who will require significant support throughout their lives.

This is a reality for many families, and their voices matter too.

One part of the book that particularly struck a chord with me was the question of what happens when an autistic child becomes an autistic adult.

Autism doesn’t suddenly stop when someone turns 18 or 25.

Fernando challenges systems that diagnose too late, fail to provide the right educational support and then leave families fighting their way through yet more paperwork and bureaucracy when their children become adults.

Although he is writing mainly about the situation in Spain, I know many families here in the UK will recognise some of these same worries.

What happens when education finishes?

Where is the right support?

Where are the opportunities, appropriate services, supported living and specialist provision for those who need it?

Then there is the question that I know keeps many parents awake at night:

Who will look after my son or daughter when I am no longer here?

This is something I have also raised through my petition, and as a mam of two autistic sons, that question is very close to my heart.

There will be parts of this book, including some of its language and arguments, that autistic people, advocates and professionals may disagree with or challenge. That is OK. We do need these conversations.

No one person, organisation, campaigner or author can speak for everyone across such a wide and diverse spectrum.

We absolutely need to listen to autistic voices. We also need to remember those autistic people who cannot easily tell us what they need and who rely on the people who know and love them to advocate alongside them.

For me, Fernando Cabal’s book leaves us with an important challenge.

Inclusion has to be more than a word.

It has to mean something in real people’s everyday lives.

Yes, let’s celebrate autistic talent and achievement.

But let’s also talk about the difficult days, the sleepless nights I shared recently, the lack of services, the battles for support and the worries about the future.

Those stories matter too.

If La Verdad Sobre el Autismo gets governments, professionals and society talking about autistic people and families who sometimes feel forgotten or invisible, then perhaps it has started a conversation that we very much need to have.

Anna Kennedy OBE

La Verdad Sobre el Autismo – Lo que nadie quiere contar by Fernando Cabal was published by Mandala Ediciones in August 2026.

Anna Kennedy OBE
Chairperson

Brook House
54A Cowley Mill Road
Uxbridge
Middlesex
UB8 2FX

Office: 01895 540187
Website: www.annakennedyonline.com
Registered Charity Number: 1143630

https://www.firepit.art

Categories
Columns Culture Lifestyle Poetry Travel

PLEASE BECOME A SPONSOR FOR AUTISM’S GOT TALENT

Home

Help us put autistic talent centre stage

By Steven Smith

There are some evenings that entertain you, and there are others that remind you just how extraordinary people can be. Autism’s Got Talent does both.

This year is particularly special. On 10 October 2026, Autism’s Got Talent returns to London’s Mermaid Theatre to celebrate its 15th anniversary — fifteen years of giving autistic children and adults the opportunity to step into the spotlight and show an audience exactly what they can do. 

Created by Dr Anna Kennedy OBE and her charity Anna Kennedy Online, Autism’s Got Talent has become the highlight of the charity’s year.

Over those years, singers, dancers, musicians, magicians, poets and performers of all kinds have taken to the stage. There have been standing ovations, laughter and more than a few tears. In 2022 alone, a packed 650-seat Mermaid Theatre watched performers receive standing ovations throughout the evening. 

But putting on an event of this scale takes support — and we are looking for sponsors who would like to become part of the Autism’s Got Talent story.

Sponsorship packages start from just £500, giving businesses and individuals the opportunity not only to support this remarkable event but also to receive significant exposure.

Benefits include your logo on the Anna Kennedy Online website and in the event programme, six complimentary VIP tickets, complimentary drinks, social-media promotion to a network of more than 100,000 people, wider outreach exceeding half a million people, press promotion and excellent networking opportunities.

Most importantly, however, your sponsorship helps provide a stage where autistic performers are not defined by a diagnosis or by what somebody thinks they cannot do.

They are simply performers. And the stage belongs to them.

As Patron of Anna Kennedy Online, I have witnessed first-hand just how special Autism’s Got Talent is. I would love to see businesses, brands and individuals come forward and help us make the 15th anniversary an evening these talented performers will never forget.

Could you be one of our 2026 sponsors?

For sponsorship enquiries, please contact Lisa Robins at lisa.robins@annakennedyonline.com.

Sponsorship packages start from £500.

Please come and be part of something extraordinary.

any picture with me in it ?

Categories
Columns Lifestyle People

THE SCIENCE OF BECOMING: A MEDICAL APPROACH TO SELF-TRANSFORMATION

DR JOSEPH CRESPO chats to Steven Smith

THE SCIENCE OF BECOMING: A MEDICAL APPROACH TO SELF-TRANSFORMATION

By Steven Smith

DR JOSEPH CRESPO

Buy The Science of Becoming on Amazon

There are some people whose careers follow a fairly predictable path, and then there are those who take a completely different route. Dr Joseph Crespo certainly falls into the latter category.

London-based Dr Crespo has a fascinating and varied background. Before entering the world of medicine, he studied law and went on to complete an MBA in London, before working in the financial sector as a consultant and analyst. But his story didn’t end there. He made the considerable decision to change direction and retrain as a doctor — beginning a new chapter that would eventually see him working across both NHS and private healthcare.

His medical career has been equally varied, with experience ranging from GP surgeries and urgent care to walk-in centres, out-of-hours services and even HM Prisons. He has also been involved in teaching the next generation of doctors as a GP tutor and clinical examiner, alongside undertaking medical charity work in India.

It is perhaps not surprising, then, that someone who has reinvented his own life more than once should become interested in the science behind our ability to change.

That interest has now resulted in his book, The Science of Becoming: A Medical Approach to Self-Transformation. Rather than simply telling us to think positively or try harder, Dr Crespo looks at personal change through the eyes of a medical professional, exploring subjects including habits, decision-making, stress, sleep and nutrition — and asking how science can help us make changes that actually last.

At a time when social media seems to offer us a new wellness trend, miracle solution or life-changing hack almost every day, separating good advice from clever marketing has arguably never been more important.

So who better to ask than the doctor who has made transformation not only the subject of his book, but something of a feature of his own extraordinary career?

I caught up with Dr Joseph Crespo to find out more…

Dr Crespo, tell me a little about you. What was your journey into medicine, and what eventually made you want to write a book about changing our lives?

My journey into medicine was long and unorthodox, training first as a lawyer and then a financier. When I finally left it all behind to follow my passion, I trained and practise as a primary care physician, and for years my work sat at the intersection of diagnostics, chronic illness and prevention.

What struck me again and again in clinic was that the biggest lever for most people’s health wasn’t a prescription. It was the slow accumulation of daily choices: how they slept, how they handled stress, what they ate, how they thought about themselves. I kept watching patients try to change with sheer determination and fail, not because they lacked willpower but because nobody had ever given them a framework. Medicine has one. It’s called clinical reasoning, and I realised the same discipline doctors use to diagnose and treat could be turned inward, applied to the process of changing a life rather than treating a disease. That’s where the book came from.

The title is The Science of Becoming. Becoming what? Is there actually an optimum version of ourselves, or are we in danger of constantly being told that we need to improve?

Becoming isn’t about arriving at some fixed, optimised endpoint. There’s no single best version of a person waiting to be unlocked. What I mean by becoming is closer to what we mean clinically by healing: a direction, not a destination. It’s the ongoing process of reducing the gap between how you’re currently living and what your body and mind actually need to function well. I’m wary of the “optimisation” culture that treats a person like a machine to be tuned for maximum output.

That framing burns people out. The question I ask is not “how do I become the best version of myself” but “what is actually true about my biology, my history and my circumstances, and what does that call for right now.”

You argue that we rely too much on willpower. Why doesn’t willpower always work, and what should we be doing instead?

Willpower is a finite, fatiguing resource, and it’s also the wrong tool for the job. In clinic, we don’t tell a patient with a chest infection to try harder not to be infected. We diagnose, then we design an intervention suited to the underlying problem. Most of what looks like a willpower failure is actually a design failure: an environment, a routine or a belief system working against the change someone is trying to make. Instead of asking for more willpower, I encourage people to reduce the number of decisions that require willpower in the first place, by changing defaults, removing friction, and building systems that make the desired behaviour the easy and enjoyable behaviour.

You take clinical decision-making and apply it to everyday life. Can you give me a real-world example? How could I use clinical reasoning to make a better decision tomorrow morning?

Clinical reasoning follows a simple sequence: gather data, form a differential, test it, act, then reassess. Take something as ordinary as feeling constantly tired. Instead of reaching straight for caffeine or willing yourself through it, treat it like a case. What’s the data: how did you sleep, what did you eat yesterday, who did you mix with, what’s your stress load this week. What’s the differential: is this poor sleep quality, is it dehydration, is it emotional load, is it simply overtraining. Pick the most likely cause, make one small deliberate change, and observe the result over a few days rather than guessing forever. Tomorrow morning, that might be as simple as noticing what you automatically reach for and asking, briefly, what problem am I actually trying to solve with this.

We’re bombarded with wellness advice on social media — supplements, fasting, cortisol, sleep hacks, diets and longevity treatments. As a doctor, how do you separate genuine science from very clever marketing?

I look for three things. First, is the claim built on a mechanism that’s been demonstrated in humans, not just in a petri dish or a mouse. Second, does the person selling it benefit financially from your belief in it, and how large is that incentive. Third, is the advice generalised or personalised. Genuine science tends to come with caveats, uncertainty and “it depends.” Marketing tends to come with certainty, urgency and a product at the end of it. If a claim can’t survive the question “compared to what, and for whom,” I treat it with real caution.

Neuroscience has become a fashionable word in the self-help world. What do we genuinely know about changing the brain and forming new habits, and what claims do you think go beyond the evidence?

What we know reasonably well is that the brain retains plasticity throughout life, that repetition genuinely does strengthen certain neural pathways, and that habits form through consistent cues and rewards over time, typically longer than the popular twenty-one-day myth suggests. What goes beyond the evidence is the tendency to take a genuine finding from a controlled lab study and present it as a guaranteed personal transformation protocol. Dopamine, cortisol and neuroplasticity get used as marketing words rather than as the specific, conditional findings they actually are. I try to be honest with readers about where the solid ground ends and the speculation begins.

What about someone in their 60s or 70s? Can we genuinely make substantial changes to our habits, health and outlook later in life, or does change become significantly harder as we get older?

Change is absolutely still possible, and I say that as a clinician who sees it happen. What changes with age isn’t the capacity for change itself, it’s the margin for error and the starting conditions: more accumulated habits, sometimes more comorbidity, less physiological reserve to draw on. The clinical reasoning approach actually suits older patients well, because it isn’t about dramatic overhaul, it’s about identifying the one or two changes that will have the greatest effect given someone’s specific situation, and building from there patiently. I’ve seen patients in their seventies transform their sleep, their mobility and their outlook once they had a clear, individualised plan rather than a generic one.

Stress, sleep and nutrition all feature in your approach. If someone came to you and said, “I’m overwhelmed, I can’t change everything,” which one would you tackle first, and why?

Sleep, almost every time. It’s the foundation the other two rest on. Poor sleep drives stress reactivity, disrupts appetite regulation and blunts willpower and decision-making the following day. It’s also usually the most tractable of the three, because unlike stress or nutrition, sleep responds fairly quickly to specific, well-evidenced changes: consistent timing, light exposure, and a wind-down routine. Fix sleep first and the other two often become noticeably easier to address.

Self-help is an enormous industry, and every year we’re offered another formula for transforming ourselves. What makes your approach different, and what evidence is there that it can produce lasting change rather than the short burst of motivation people often get after reading a self-help book?

Most self-help sells motivation. Motivation is a mood, and moods pass. What I’m offering instead is a method: the same diagnostic, iterative process doctors are trained to use, which doesn’t depend on how inspired you feel on a given day. It assumes you will fail at points, and builds reassessment into the process rather than treating failure as proof the whole effort was doomed. Lasting change, in my clinical experience, comes from small, testable, personalised interventions rather than a single dramatic reinvention. That’s a much less glamorous story than the one the industry usually sells, but it’s the one that holds up over years rather than weeks. In addition, I offer documented medical research studies to substantiate every idea.

DR JOSEPH CRESPO

Not everyone is a reader or someone who would naturally pick up a self-help book. For those people listening to us today, what’s one simple thing they could start doing right now to make a positive change in their lives?

Pick one thing you do automatically every single day, and simply notice it for a week before you try to change anything. Don’t judge it, don’t fix it yet, just observe it the way a clinician observes a patient before making a diagnosis. Most people skip straight to changing behaviour without ever accurately understanding what they’re currently doing and why. That single week of honest observation is often the most useful health intervention I can suggest, and it costs nothing and requires no willpower at all.

Quick-fire questions

Favourite place to relax?

My home.

If you were Mayor of London for a day, what’s the first thing you’d change?

The institutionalisation of common sense, and an understanding that our individual rights end where others’ begin. Sadly, I see a growing number of entitled people imposing their views and beliefs, and condemning anybody who disagrees.

A restaurant you particularly love dining at?

Many, but if I have to choose one, Oliveto on Elizabeth Street, a proper Italian trattoria offering high quality food, friendly service, and a home feel environment. https://www.olivetolondon.uk/about

What has been the proudest moment of your life so far?

Every moment I made the decision to keep growing.

What motivates you to keep going when life gets difficult?

Difficulties are circumstantial, and overcoming them requires only a change in perspective. One thing that has helped me a great deal was when I stopped worrying about things which outcome I cannot change.

https://drjcrespo.com