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I only ever modeled for one artist: Lucian Freud. In the early 1980s, he hadn’t become the famous artist he soon would be, but I knew who he was because of art school. His paintings were considered ugly in those days, brutal and cruel. I never felt that way, I thought they were brilliant.
I don’t remember how it all started, really. I’m not sure he even formally asked. It just happened.
Around the time I left City & Guilds of London Art School – I must have been there until I was 20 – I met Lucian’s daughter, Rose Freud, at a roller disco in Hammersmith. We were both there to see Bow Wow Wow and became good friends immediately. Shortly after that, I started modeling for Lucian.
"It wasn’t Playboy – though I think it must seem that way to people who weren’t there."
At the beginning, I was a little uncomfortable. I had never modeled before. But I had spent the last few years of my life in art school drawing life models all the time, so it made sense to me. I was used to it. It wasn’t Playboy – though I think it must seem that way to people who weren’t there.
By the fifth painting (Blond Girl on a Bed), our relationship was more established, more clear. It was very demanding to be there, physically and emotionally. The studio could be too hot or too cold depending on where you were, and the blood would rush to my head. My limbs would go numb. I could take it, and I enjoyed being around him, but it was challenging.
We talked sometimes. Other times I was simply left with my thoughts. We would work for seven hours straight. Sometimes we went out for food afterwards, but we never socialized. He paid me, but not much. Enough to get by.
At the time, I don’t think I understood that these would become “significant” paintings, but they were significant to me – and he was significant to me. I had left art school and I was trying to paint, and Lucian was a very good painter. He set a good example.
"I’m not sure that he saw me as a muse, really. I think we just understood each other."
We worked together for 10 years. When it came to the final painting, I had an idea it was coming to an end. Things were changing. I had changed and he had changed. The world was different. The bubble that we created while making paintings was bursting – it could only have lasted so long. He was getting more famous and I wanted to do things on my own.
Maybe he saw something special in me – I don't really know. He certainly never said so to me. I do think he liked working with me. I was reliable, I was able to work hard. I was willing to give him lots of time. These were all very serious considerations for him.
I also had this very fair skin which was quite nice for him to paint. But I’m not sure that he saw me as a muse, really. I think we just understood each other.
After Lucian, I didn’t model again. Sure, I’ll model for a friend and she’ll model for me, but it’s not the same. When I was working with Lucian I had no time to work for anyone else, and after Lucian it didn’t occur to me to model for anyone else.
I wasn’t a model, and I wasn’t a muse. I was just working for Lucian.
