Sarah Vine

2 weeks ago | dailymail.co.uk | Sarah Vine

All my life I cared what people thought of me. As a teenager I cared that my feet were too big to be a ballerina and that I wasn't blonde like all the pretty girls. I cared that all the other kids had the right kind of Superga trainers and Benetton sweaters, whereas I had normal plimsolls and chain store jumpers. I cared about fitting in (I didn't), about whether I was thin enough or fun enough (neither). Was I clever enough, cool enough, did I listen to the right music (none of the above)?

3 weeks ago | dailymail.co.uk | Sarah Vine

Goodness, these AI versions of celebrities are getting eerily good, aren’t they? The Duchess of Privacy herself, twerking like some vulgar commoner to Starrkeisha’s viral hit The Baby Momma Dance, while Prince Harry dad-dances around her like an over-excited flamingo doing an elaborate courtship dance? It can’t be real – can it? Whatever next, the Prince and Princess of Wales doing sl*tdrops to Beyonce’s Gimme Some? Their Majesties King Charles and Queen Camilla mouthing along to Lola Young’s Messy?

3 weeks ago | dailymail.co.uk | Sarah Vine

How. The. Hell. Did. I. Get. Here? This was how I felt from the minute my husband Michael went into politics to the minute when I reluctantly left him – and politics – behind. Since childhood, I’ve had an unshakable sense of inferiority and worthlessness; in many ways it’s what drives me. But it is also the source of a great deal of pain and regret.

3 weeks ago | dailymail.co.uk | Sarah Vine

Most people are first impressed with someone's looks, their physical prowess, their ability to dance. I fell for Michael Gove's modesty, the fact that his physical bumbling was in such contrast to his razor-sharp brain and his wit: there is no funnier person in the room. I'd met him when a friend told me someone dropped out of a skiing holiday and I decided a short break would be a good idea. Michael, who was also going, was comment editor of The Times.

3 weeks ago | dailymail.co.uk | Sarah Vine

Looking back, Brexit truly marked the beginning of the end of my marriage to Michael Gove. Politics had infected every aspect of our lives – and it caused untold damage. Our close-knit group of friends – many stretching back to university days – were slowly but surely pulled apart. Godparents were at war with each other, children who had grown up in each other's houses were suddenly on non-speakers as the adults took sides.