Mary Quant

I think to myself, 'You lucky woman - how did you have all this fun?'

In the old parts of Nice, the family tables are out in the cobbled streets so that you can't drive past. They insist you join them at midnight on a hot July evening. So that's just what you do, abandoning the car.

Most of my memories of the Sixties are ones of optimism, high spirits and confidence.

In America, they never make anything without first having a market survey to ask the public what they want. People only ask for things they already know about, so you don't get anything new that way. That's why American fashion is stuck.

London style is individual.

I still like the King's Road. It is very alive; it is a hustle of things from different countries and so on. It is lovely.

Having money is rather like being a blond. It is more fun but not vital.

Coco Chanel hated me. I can understand why.

I dressed like Leslie Caron as a teenager: soft school pleats, Peter Pan collars.

Of course I remember everything I've ever worn.

Jean Shrimpton was the most beautiful of all the models I have known. To walk down the King's Road, Chelsea, with Shrimpton was like walking through the rye. Strong men just keeled over right and left as she strode up the street.

The fashionable woman is sexy, witty, and dry-cleaned.