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A Breath Of Fresh Air
The Daily Telegraph
Issue No. 2,012; Monday November 27th, 2000
She dreams of executions. She has implants in her ears.
She says she has more shoes than Imelda Marcos. Donna Air - actress, singer, Big Breakfast presenter and
company director - talks to Nigel Farndale
In an intimate Hampstead restaurant on a drizzly
November afternoon, Donna Air is dismantling a mobile phone so small the
imagination can barely cope with it. 'It's supposed to be state-of-the-art,' she
says, with a slow blink of her large green eyes, 'but it keeps cutting out on
me.' She holds a tiny circuit board up to the light and purses her lips. 'I can
usually get it going...'

Donna Air: 'An over-active left eyebrow is just one of the Air charms'
The tip
of her tongue emerges from the corner of her mouth as she concentrates on
sliding the cover back on ' . . . again.' She tries dialling. It's still broken.
'Oh, who am I kidding? I like to think I can do the single girl thing, fix my TV
and car and everything, but I'm hopeless really. I can't even work my Palm
Pilot. And I've got an iMac at home, but I always end up jotting things down on
scraps of paper. I wake up in the night and have to write things down, otherwise
I can't sleep.'
Sleep is
important to this rangy 21-year-old, especially on mornings when she has to rise
at 3.30am because she is co-presenting The Big Breakfast on Channel 4. What does
she write down? 'Dreams, whatever.' And what does she dream about - pretty
things, no doubt, chasing butterflies through woodland creamy with meadowsweet?
'Actually, I dream I'm watching all these people being hanged and beheaded on
Blackfriars Bridge. I think it must have been something I witnessed in a
previous life. It's, like, I'm always drawn to period stuff. Old fabrics, you
know.'
Bill
please, waiter. 'No, no!' Donna Air says with a soft laugh and a shake of her
golden curls. 'I'm not really like that. In fact, I was brought up a Catholic.
It's just I feel comfortable in certain new environments, as if I'm already
familiar with them. And I know instantly whether I like someone or not. It's a
sixth sense.' Holding her knife and fork as though they were pens, Air cuts up a
slice of grilled chicken breast in hoisin sauce. She finishes her mouthful,
takes a sip of chablis and rubs her right ear. She has implants in them, she
explains, to help her cut down on smoking.
'I think I had too strong a dosage today, though, because I'm getting a weird sensation
all over my body.' There's a Chinese herbalist she sees who administers the
dosage and also gives her acupuncture. 'It's to help me sleep well and get my
body back in balance. Did you know your body is split up into your right
meridian and your left, and that in entertainment you are always giving out with
your right side and you need to nourish your left side?' No, I can't say I did.
'Well, it is. Anyway, I'm all for sleep.' She squares her shoulders. 'If you
don't get your sleep, everything falls apart. I always make a policy of never
opening bills or taking calls that will stress me late at night. It's, like, if
my mum rings, I go, "Mum, let's talk about this in the morning."'
The
eldest of three children, Donna Air was born and raised in Newcastle upon Tyne.
From the age of 11 to 15 she appeared in Byker Grove, a Newcastle-based
children's drama on BBC television, and a nursery for such talents as Ant and
Dec. After this she joined a band, Crush, as the singer, toured America, and
enjoyed chart success with the singles 'Jellyhead' and 'Luv'd Up'. At 18 she
joined MTV and presented Select, a daily, two-hour music request show, on which
she was required to deal sympathetically with faltering, lovestruck pubescents.
She has played a prostitute in Lynda La Plante's television drama Supply and
Demand, a Dutch hitch-hiker in Still Crazy (starring Billy Connolly), and is
about to present an edition of TFI Friday with Huey from Fun Lovin' Criminals.

But it
is for her work on The Big Breakfast that she is chiefly known. Female
presenters of the show need to be easy on the eye, with a breezy, bubbly
disposition and an ability to cope with hecklers and the quickfire banter of
Johnny Vaughan, the male presenter (it was this last that did for Kelly Brook),
as well as a willingness to get up unfeasibly early (which eventually proved too
much for Liza Tarbuck).
To put herself in a sunny mood for the show she plays music loudly: 'It really gets me
up for it. I have a good old dance around make-up and really get my energy
levels going. Really charged. I'm a fidget anyway and can't sit still for long,
but often I'm dancing across the studio and the make-up artist is following me.'
After primary school in Newcastle, Air went to a convent in the city, where her
nickname was Lego Legs. 'It was because my feet clicked. They don't now that I
exercise and I'm well oiled up.' She left at 15: 'Can't remember what I got in
my GCSEs, a handful of Bs and Cs, I think.'
Although she once asked the Corrs, a band consisting of three sisters and a brother, how
they met, jokes about her supposedly mean intelligence are largely to do with
her surname (which is not a stage name, incidentally). Even her best friend,
Natalie Appleton (of the band All Saints), calls her Airhead. And, taking it in
good part, Donna Air has called the small company she recently founded with
Francis Ridley (a former head of programming for MTV) Airhead and Money. She is
an engaging conversationalist and uses her intelligence benevolently, to make
others feel better about themselves for being brighter than she is. 'The art of
being clever is to pretend to be stupid,' she says. But does she regret not
having gone to university?
'I never thought, and this is probably just my way of justifying my laziness to myself,
there was much point, because I knew exactly what I wanted to do and I didn't
need academic qualifications to do it. But, yes, there are things I would love
to study now if I had the time. I love history. I love learning.' Were other
girls jealous of her at school? 'There was a bit of a vibe when I went through a
difficult big-headed stage but I probably deserved it. My family was always
around to keep me grounded.
To take the piss. It's a Geordie thing. No one gets away with taking themselves too
seriously. Everything is defused with a joke. That's why I love Mike Leigh films
- that dark, northern humour. And I'm good at taking the piss out of myself,
too. I'm a nerd really.' Donna Air's parents have just turned 40. Her mother,
Marie, works for BT; her father, Trevor, is a mechanical engineer and a drummer
in his spare time. Air doesn't think her parents were pushy. 'I was an only
child for the first eight years' - her brother is eight, her sister 13 - 'so I
had lots of attention. My mum used to send me to dance classes and acting
classes, but only because I was hyperactive and she wanted to get me out of the
house. That stuff in orange juice, I couldn't have it. I was a bit of a madam as
a girl - me, me, me. Very attention-seeking. I would come into a room and force
everyone to watch my dance routines.'
In turn, Donna Air used to watch Madonna and Kylie Minogue on MTV. 'Deep down, and I
don't mean this to sound arrogant, I knew that I would be doing the sort of
thing they did one day, too. Throughout my career there have been key jobs that
I've, like, predicted. Maybe I'm psychic. Like I know now what I will be doing
in five years time.' She does? 'Yes, acting. I've tried all the classes, because
I thought if I didn't I wouldn't be taken seriously, but I just got stuck with
lots of unemployed actors who were very bitter. I thought, "F- it!" No
point agonising about what direction to take, just get on and act and be good at
it. I'm confident I will be.'
What a gal. She's packed so much into her 21 years - several careers, founding her own
company - and seems to take it all for granted. Doesn't she ever have any
self-doubt? 'Maybe I'll get it wrong, like, but I'm an optimist. That said, I am
a bit of a worrier about things I don't need to worry about. I think it's
Catholic guilt. That's why I never do anything bad, because if I did the guilt
would give me away. I stole a pound when I was seven and got found out straight
away because I looked guilty. I can blag really well but I can't lie. I'm open
about most things. It's easier. You reap what you sow. I'm a big believer in all
that karma stuff.'
But doesn't a belief in reincarnation sit uneasily with her Catholicism? 'I think we
should draw lessons from all religions, don't you?' Well, quite. Does her
Catholic guilt come to the fore when people talk about dumbing down on
television? 'I don't look into the politics of why certain shows get
commissioned too much, because what I do in the morning is very shallow.' She
laughs. 'We've never denied it!' Does Donna Air ever feel she is just a product
being exploited by an army of agents, managers, PRs, lawyers and accountants?
'No, I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do. I've had some bad deals, mind.
I was 15 when I signed my first record deal. The record men, they go up North
and take all these kids from working-class backgrounds, and when they offer them
a £5,000 deal, the kids think, "Oh my God, that's so much money!" But
you end up signing your life away, touring the world for peanuts.'
What about all those bikini shoots she does for calendars and lad mags such as
Loaded, Esquire and FHM? Doesn't she worry that they will compromise her
credibility as an actor? Air pushes her plate away, lights up a Marlboro and
takes a drag before answering. 'I did go through a phase of blitzing it, but I'm
quite chilled out now. I pace things. I don't need everyone to love me any
more.' Isn't it a bit creepy, knowing that thousands of men have sexual
fantasises about her? 'I don't even think about it, you know. I'm not one of
these people who worries about the pictures after a photo shoot. I just go home,
have a fag and cup of tea and pay my bills.'
She has, I can't help noticing, an over-active left eyebrow - it keeps arching. 'I can't
help it!' she laughs. 'Photographers keep asking me to control it but I can't.
It does it of its own accord.' The independent eyebrow is just one of Air's
charms. She has the sort of willowy figure and epicene face which appeals to
both men and women. And she seems friendly, funny and well adjusted. Her smoky
lilting accent also contributes. 'Everyone up North always talks from the back
of their throats, so when you get tired it gets croaky. I'd never lose my
accent, but it has been diluted a bit. I have to articulate more, make my
diction clearer on TV, because people in Cornwall aren't going to be able to
understand a word I say otherwise. And I've started voice-training for my acting
and can do standard RP and standard American now.'
There is something written in coloured beads across her top which has been distracting
me. 'It's Chinese, I think,' she says lighting another Marlboro with the butt of
the last one. She has had serious boyfriends in the past but she has also had a
reputation as a hard-drinking, hard-partying laddette who seems to enjoy the
single life. Would she like to get married at some point? 'A date would be a
step in the right direction. These early mornings ruin my love life. Actually, I
would like to skip the dating stage and get to that serious relationship stage
where you can doss about in your sweatpants and watch videos.' She numbers among
her close friends the Gallagher brothers, Noel and Liam, who have both recently
divorced, shortly after their wives had babies. Does that put her off marriage?
'Yeah, it's awful. I think it's such a shame when any family is torn apart,
having seen it happen to my own. You know, my mum and dad have just got
divorced. I've never been able to understand why, because they didn't have an
unhappy marriage, and I'm not just saying that because I'm in denial.'
She feels protective towards her mother, whom she describes as a bit naive, and also
towards her sister. 'My sister is so cool and blasé. When she came to stay with
me in London recently I thought she would be really impressed if we went for
dinner with Natalie and the others, and she said with a yawn, "I'd rather
go to bed, actually." She is more sensitive than me. I was quite tough at
her age. I'm really impressed with the way my sister deals with my mum, you
know. She just says, "Yeah, yeah, mum, whatever." Even my mum has to
laugh. I used to scream at my mum.'
An awkward teenager? Donna Air draws on her cigarette, and taps her lighter against
the tablecloth. 'Yeah, I was a brat. I was awful, especially to my mum.' She has
a couple of large bags by her chair. Is she on her way to the laundry? 'No,' she
says unzipping one and rummaging around, scattering clothes on the floor. 'I
have three changes of clothes in here. Hats. Diaries.' Is she messy at home? 'I
used to be so anal as a child. It's all going the other way now because I'm so
tired when I get home I can't face tidying my clothes. I need a nice big house.
I hate shopping. But I do get sent things to wear on the show so I don't really
need to do much. I spend a lot of money on shoes and handbags, though.'
I notice her Rolex. Was that a freebie too? She mouths the word 'no'. 'I'm less
materialistic now than I used to be. I've got all the shoes I need. In fact I've
probably got more than Imelda.' Today she is wearing gold trainers. 'My old flat
in Blackheath is still full of boxes of them. Many unopened. I've got shoes all
over London, come to think of it.' It is nearly 4pm, time for her to go home and
get some sleep. Though it is November, she is in the middle of recording the
Christmas Day edition of The Big Breakfast, and says she has to try and enter
into the festive spirit ready for filming tomorrow.
In late December she will also be appearing in a costume drama, A Dinner of Herbs by
Catherine Cookson. 'It's set in the 1840s, and I spent six weeks in a field in
Durham filming it. All corsets, high collars and ringlets. But my hair is
naturally curly so I didn't have to do nothing. And I had this trick of
breathing out when the costume department came to fit me every morning because
they weren't interested in whether I could breathe, just whether I looked good.'
Would she like to have lived in that period? 'I think I did,' she muses dreamily,
'because I'm very old-fashioned. Very drawn to that era. I would be happy in the
country, I think, living in a mill-house, churning the butter.' Well, as a
reincarnation, it's an improvement on the grisly scene at Blackfriars Bridge.