If I could give a few words of advice to my younger self? I'd say: "Don't expect someone to tap you on the shoulder, and then hand you what you're looking for on a plate." Because the big handicap for me was that I was a dreamer, and I thought that once I got to London, someone would just discover me. So I didn't start grafting until I was in my late 20s, even early 30s. I do think that young people should mess around and have some fun and gain their life story - I needed to find those stories, and as it worked out, it was fine. But it might not have been.
I've always been hankering for more. As a physiotherapist, it is half science and half art, and I do love both. But at school, I was always an artist first, and science took second place. My teenage hobby was making super-8 films. In a funny way, I still feel like an artist and somehow I want down the wrong path.
Personally, it doesn't feel right for me to be on a "diet" for the rest of my life. It is preferable to live by a set of principles that just feel instinctively but also logically right. So it is a enlightening and actually just rather nice culture to look at things like where the food has come from and how much it benefits us rather than how many calories does this contain.
In this A-list fatigue, One Direction are just the latest examples of the second paradox of pop, that the more you get of stardom's sweet dream, the less you start to want. Just ask Brian McFadden. Or Brian Wilson. Or the Backstreet Boys. Or The Beatles. It may be strange, but 'twas ever thus. So what can we learn from this? That these four young lads would rather risk future failure on their own than continue as a record-breaking ensemble. That we should probably listen to rumours about bands splitting up, as they invariably come true.
Bread week starts with plenty of shots of our intrepid tensome looking all kinds of worried, and it's no surprise. The prospect of a weekend of yeast-based fun means Paul Hollywood gets the opportunity do what he loves the most: prowl around Britain's most famous tent and judge amateurs while his smug-o-meter goes off the scale.