Welcome to My World

My mum and dad always said that while we were at school they would provide for us, so we could devote our time to

Oh! Please! No! Don’t!

There are many reasons to get on your mobile and call the fashion police, but here are some pet hates of mine that should be avoided at all costs:

1. Very short skirts with high heels

Unless your name happens to be Beyoncé and you are singing a little song called Crazy in Love you have no excuse. It’s not sexy.

2. Visible thongs above trousers’ waistbands

The modern-day female equivalent of the builder’s bum. Very unattractive.

3. Seeing double

If you are appearing on Strictly Come Dancing then fine, but otherwise girlfriends and boyfriends should not be seen out wearing matching outfits. Unless they’re around six years old, in which case it’s officially cute.

4. Cleavage overload

Message to all those girls who take their fashion tips from men’s magazines: keep them hidden and keep them guessin’.

5. Silly hats

Equestrian helmets and Pierrot clown cones may be good for fancy dress, but never mistake eccentricity for individuality.

schoolwork and exams. During the summer holidays, I used to go with my Auntie Pat and Auntie Shelagh to clean the chalets at Pontins – the money was good and I’m sure we used to clean more chalets than anyone else! – but when I was sixteen I found myself a Saturday job in New Look in Liverpool.

It was simply that I needed more money to buy clothes for myself. Not only that, but I’d just started seeing Wayne, and his birthday was coming up in October. Then it would be Christmas, so I really wanted to earn some extra money to buy him presents. I worked at New Look on Saturdays, and in the run-up to Christmas I’d work late-night Thursdays. Dad used to come and pick me up afterwards because he never liked the idea of me catching the bus home at that time of night.

Because I was interested in fashion it was a great job, and I used to get fifty per cent off all the clothes. My contract meant I had to buy New Look clothes to work in the shop, which I was more than happy about because they used to have a nice designer range by Luella at the time. I really enjoyed the independence the job brought me, and having my own money coming into my bank account. And Wayne got his birthday presents – an Armani cardigan and a pair of wireless headphones.

A couple of years ago, GMTV’s fashion expert, Caryn Franklin, wrote a kind article in the Daily Mirror about me entitled ‘The Making of Coleen’, saying how I’d made ‘the transition from schoolgirl to sophisticate with ease’. I don’t know about ease, but it’s been fun. The last few years have seen me grow up, and so has my style and fashion sense. It’s been a fashion journey that, for better or worse, has taken place in the public eye. As for that first photograph of me, well, if I’d have known I was going to be in the newspapers then maybe, looking back, I might have restyled a few things. For starters, I think I’d have gone for flat ballet shoes with white socks, not the navy ones I was wearing. And I would’ve had my hair different – a loose ponytail rather than the tight pony I wore at the time. And I’d be wearing a smarter, tailored jacket. The three-quarter-length hooded puffa jacket would be history. That would be the first thing to go!

chapter three always a liverpool girl (#ulink_01658f66-2ad4-57a0-a991-b189f4259fa3)

Before I go any further, maybe I should tell you a little bit about my background. There are six of us in my family: my mum Colette, dad Tony, oldest brother Joe, who’s nineteen, then Anthony, who’s eighteen, and our little eight-year-old sister, Rosie. You might have seen Rosie on the TV programme I made with Sir Trevor McDonald highlighting the problems of caring for disabled children, a subject close to my heart. Ever since she was born, Rosie has suffered from a rare genetic disorder caller Rett syndrome, which means she needs twenty-four-hour care. We’ve always had foster children coming to live with us in the house, and Rosie came to us as a two-year-old. We loved her so much we didn’t want to let her leave, and my mum and dad adopted her. We’re a really close family. Wayne has always spent a lot of time round my mum and dad’s house and he has become close to us too.

I was born in Oxford Street Hospital, in Liverpool’s city centre, on 3 April 1986. Coleen means ‘girl’ in Gaelic, it is to Ireland what Sheila is to Australia. I’m not actually named after anyone, but my dad has Irish roots and his granddad came from County Mayo.

My mum was just eighteen when she married my twenty-one-year-old dad, yet it took them seven years of trying to have a baby, and fertility treatment, before I eventually came along. Then, when I finally appeared on the scene, I nearly died.

My earliest memory is of being in hospital with my mum sitting by the bed crying. I was four years old when I caught chicken pox and I was ill for days and not getting any better. Then one night my mum tried to get me out of bed and I couldn’t walk properly, I just kept falling over all the time. They called the doctor and as soon as he saw my condition he sent me down to Alder Hey Children’s Hospital in Liverpool. There they immediately diagnosed me as having encephalitis (inflammation of the brain) caused by the chicken pox. I was put on all kinds of drips and stuff, and at one point the doctors told my mum and dad that I might not pull through – that I might have only forty-eight hours to live. I’ve still got those memories of all the family coming to visit me and me crying my head off. Eventually, I came out the other side, but I had to learn how to walk all over again. Now I’m in the fortunate position of being able to help others by being an ambassador and fundraiser for the hospital that did so much to help me.

One of the reasons my mum and dad started fostering was because they’d tried so hard to have kids and when the time was right they decided they wanted to give something back. It was after we’d all started school, and my mum felt she had the time on her hands that could be of benefit to others. They waited until we were at an age when we – Joe, Anthony and I – could understand what fostering meant and what it would mean to the family. They sat us down and discussed fostering with us, and said they would only do it if everyone was happy. We all thought the idea was a good one.

In the beginning, we looked after newborn babies, who would eventually go on to be with couples who couldn’t have kids and wanted to adopt. I can’t pretend that wasn’t sometimes hard on us. We quickly got attached to these kids and it was difficult to see them go, but, like my mum and dad said, we were giving them a good start. That’s how we came to have Rosie. At other times we’d have children with disabilities come to stay for the weekend every now and again, to give their parents a rest. At the moment we have this little boy called Jake who’s got Down’s syndrome. He comes once a month to stay with us – I say ‘us’ because I spend so much time at my mum and dad’s house that it still feels like home. When my parents first met, my mum was a nursery nurse, but she gave up work to bring up her family. Dad was a bricklayer, but in the end he had to give up because of prolapsed discs in his back, and so now he devotes his time to Rosie, fostering, the local hospital and the church. My dad is quite religious, and religion and the church – we’re Roman Catholics – have always played a big part in our lives. My first Holy Communion at the age of seven is still a very special memory for me.

However, as much as dad is religious, it’s never been something he’s imposed on us. At the age of sixteen we were all given the choice of whether we wanted to go to church any more, we weren’t forced to go. Nowadays, I don’t go as much as I’d like to, but I do go every now and again.

Up until I was four we lived in Garston, where my dad’s family comes from, in a two-up, two-down. Then, afterwards, we moved to Croxteth to the council house where my mum had grown up. My mum’s mum had died of cancer before I was born and my granddad lived on his own. He moved out to be with his girlfriend, and we moved in, but later he came back to live with us. It’s always been the family home. In the end, with conversions for Rosie, we had five bedrooms. The house was always full. My mum’s got a big family – two brothers and five sisters – and my dad has two brothers and two sisters, and every Saturday all the family used to come and visit. My memories of that house are that it was always busy and warm, like any family home should be. I say ‘was’ because last year I was lucky enough to be able to buy my mum and dad a new house. It’s not that far away from Croxteth, but it has just a little bit more room and privacy. Having said that, Auntie Shelagh and her partner, Mick, are going to rent our old house in Croxteth. I love the thought that Auntie Shelagh’s moving in. She used to come and look after me and my brothers whenever my mum and dad took disabled kids to Lourdes and Disneyland when I was younger. Auntie Shelagh moving in just means the house still remains the family home, which is really lovely.

I’ll always be a Croxteth girl and Liverpool will always be home. It’s a friendly city. Everyone is down to earth and has a great sense of humour. We used to live just on the border between Croxteth and Norris Green, and when I was younger I would hang out in Norris Green, but as I got older I spent more time in Croxteth. I enjoy it up there, I feel safe, and there’s always someone you know around. All the neighbours have seen me grow up from a little girl to where I am now. That’s great, because I can just go to the shops and people won’t treat me as any different from anyone else. It’s just normal. When everything in my life isn’t always so normal, it’s nice to go back there.

I went to school in Croxteth. My primary school was St Teresa’s in Norris Green and then I went to St John Bosco High School in Croxteth after that. I always loved school, but I also loved the lesson breaks and chatting with my mates. I wouldn’t say I was a brainy kid, but when I tried hard I did well. I was always in the top sets, worked hard, did my homework, and ended up with ten GCSEs – A* in Performing Arts, As in English Language, RE and Technology/Textiles, and Bs in Maths, English Literature, French, Spanish and Science. I was on the Student Council, and involved in loads of different stuff, and in the sixth form the rest of the year voted me Deputy Head Girl. A year before I’d set up the buddy system. It was a counselling service that allowed girls in the younger years who were having problems to come to an older pupil for advice or help instead of going to a teacher. It worked because some kids are scared of taking their problems to a teacher and they would rather talk with someone of their own age.

When I went to see the careers advisor we chatted about what I was going to do in terms of university. For me, the choice was either Performing Arts or Media.

I used to love drama classes. Throughout my school years, if you’d asked me what I wanted to be when I got older I would have told you that my dream was to become an actress. In my first year at school we did musicals like Calamity Jane and The Wizard of Oz. I was young so I only got little parts – I was an extra in Calamity Jane and a munchkin in The Wizard of Oz. Later on I was in The Sound of Music as one of the von Trapp kids. I used to love it. I’d also go to drama school at night and I had a couple of walk-on parts in Hollyoaks. I just loved performing. From the age of 13, I also used to go to dance classes and was part of a dance troupe called The Harlequin. I would have loved to have gone to stage school, but you have to be good at singing too, so that counted me out. They reckon you can train a voice to sing but, believe me, they couldn’t train mine!

These days, one of my favourite ways of relaxing is going to the theatre and seeing a show. It’s then that I start thinking about how much I miss that part of my life. Recently, I’ve had invites to go and speak to the people at Coronation Street and do screen tests for Hollyoaks, but when I sat down and thought about it, I felt it was something for the future but not for right now. Maybe later on, when the spotlight on me has died down a bit, I might decide to give it a try. At the moment I think it would be hard for people to watch me on screen and see me as anyone other than Coleen McLoughlin.

I did think seriously about studying for a degree in Performing Arts, but even then I appreciated how hard the industry is to get into and the need for a back-up plan.

At the time, I was considering looking into teaching and journalism as alternatives. That was the way my life was going. Then, when I went into the lower sixth, I stopped enjoying school as much. By the end of that year I’d started going out with Wayne and things were changing for me. It’s not that I began to hate school, it’s just that I didn’t enjoy it like I used to, I was losing interest and my life outside was changing. By the upper sixth I’d started doing bits and bobs for magazines, and I just thought, ‘What’s the point in staying here if I’m not going to achieve the marks I’m capable of?’ When I told my mum and dad how I felt they understood and were totally supportive. Their main priority was for me to be happy, and they realized I wasn’t.

I wouldn’t say I’m particularly gifted academically. I had to work really hard to achieve the grades I did, so my parents understood my feelings, and that there was no point staying on if my heart wasn’t in it. Telling the teachers was really hard. They tried their best to persuade me to stay but I’d already made my mind up. I got on particularly well with one teacher, Miss Tremarco, who’d been my first-form teacher and took me for Performing Arts, and she sat me down and asked me whether I understood what I was doing. But deep down she knew I would have been miserable had I stayed on. My view then and now is that I can always go back to college one day and study, which is something I might well do, but at the time my life was changing and it made sense to leave. I have no regrets about that. I wouldn’t say Wayne was the reason I left school, but he obviously played a big part in my decision.

Wayne Rooney was part of a group of lads who used to hang around a row of shops near to where I lived. Sometimes I would wander past the local shops with my friend Claire, who’s Wayne’s cousin, and we used to see Wayne and his mates. I got on well with them all but Wayne was the cheeky one. He got it into his head that he wanted to go out with me, so whenever we saw each other he’d come out with one or two chat-up lines. ‘Can I have a date?’ he would say, or, ‘Am I gonna get a date tonight?’ My reaction was always the same. I’d never had a boyfriend before so I used to go all shy. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I’d say, then I’d head off home with Claire.

I get on with lads but I’ve never been very good at flirting

I knew Wayne was good at football, but so were a lot of the lads from where I come from, and they’d be picked for the Everton or Liverpool youth team. Not many of them got anywhere.

Wayne was in the local papers, but only if you followed football, which I didn’t, would you have known back then that he was really good. People think Wayne was loaded when I met him but it wasn’t like that.

When we first met we’d do the same things as other kids of our age. Like going round the chippy, hanging out at each other’s houses, and seeing our mates. Just normal stuff.

Wayne, however, was never going to give up that easily. He’d walk past my house and say, ‘I’ve been waiting for the phone call!’ I never had time for boys when I was doing my GCSEs as I was focused on getting good marks. Once they were finished, I finally said yes to Wayne. Well, actually, it wasn’t that clear cut. Beforehand I had chatted to my friend Amy-Louise, who used to live across the road from us, not knowing whether I wanted to go on a date with Wayne or not. He was someone I got on well with but he wasn’t someone who immediately made me think, ‘Yeah, I’d really love to go out with him.’

A couple of weeks later that all changed. One night, Claire and I were on her bike – she was riding it and I was sitting on the back – on our way home, as usual, cycling past the chippy, when the gear chain broke. There was Wayne and a few other lads, my brothers might even have been with him, standing outside the chippy, so we shouted over asking if anyone could fix our bike. I’ve since learned that Wayne’s not exactly Mr Handyman, but he volunteered that night and somehow managed to mend it. Once he’d finished, he asked me out for a date, probably in return for his services! We started talking and the conversation must have been about my drama classes because in the end Wayne wanted to know if I had the film Grease on video, and whether he could borrow it. I said I did, and he could, and so he followed us back to my house to pick it up. I can’t quite remember how it happened, but once I’d fetched the video the two of us went for a walk and we ended up in the churchyard. That’s when we first kissed: around the back of the local church, the Queen of Martyrs. I’m sure he still hasn’t returned that Grease video.

I’d never had a proper boyfriend before, so my dad was really protective. He’s always been protective but in this case he was especially so. Dad used to help run the local boxing club, Croxteth ABA, with Wayne’s uncle Ritchie. Wayne used to go to the club and therefore he knew Wayne a little bit through his uncle Ritchie. That wasn’t a problem. But now his little girl had a boyfriend, and that was something he hadn’t experienced.

On my first date with Wayne we went to the cinema to see Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery. I had told my mum of our plans and she told me to ask my dad if I could go. I was sixteen then, so I was old enough to do as I pleased, I suppose. The main reason for asking was because I didn’t know whether I was going to get home later than usual. My dad said, ‘Who are you going with?’ I replied, ‘Wayne.’ It was the first time I’d mentioned him. ‘All right,’ said my dad, ‘just as long as you sit at the back and he sits at the front!’

Dad needn’t have worried. We went with another couple, Wayne’s friend Stephen and his girlfriend Kayley. It wasn’t really a big date. We were kids, only sixteen. We weren’t old enough to go for a drink or a meal like you do when you are older, it was just meeting each other and going to the pictures.

Although I’ve said I remember everything by what outfit I had on, I can’t remember what I was wearing on the night of my first date with Wayne. I remember what Wayne was wearing – jumper and jeans, and a new pair of brown shoes he’d bought specially – but I can’t remember what I had on. What I can remember of that night is realizing how much I really did like Wayne. Whether it was love at first sight, I don’t know. We’d known each other and been friends for so long that things just seemed to grow gradually.

Over the next few weeks and months it became more serious, until the day came when I said to myself, ‘You know what, I really like him.’ Which one of us said ‘I love you’ first? I don’t even know. I can’t remember. I think it was probably Wayne.

chapter four dancing the night away with the stars (#ulink_d4a7ab07-f6ca-58a1-8498-e95009f41fae)

There I was, spinning round the dance floor, a head full of champagne – but not too much! – and Robbie Williams up on stage, only a few feet away, belting out ‘Rock DJ’ – or maybe it was ‘Let Me Entertain You’, I can’t quite remember, but it was mad to see him so near. Everyone was on the dance floor enjoying themselves. It’s past midnight and you look around and there’s P. Diddy, Elle Macpherson and Jade Jagger. You turn again and there’s Sharon and Kelly Osbourne. Then around again and there was David and Victoria and half the England team up on their feet, letting themselves go. Robbie sees us and shouts over to Wayne, ‘Eh, Wazza! Do you wanna come up and join us?!’ It was amazing.

Of all the fantastic parties and red-carpet events I’ve been fortunate enough to attend over the last few years, one of the very best was David and Victoria Beckham’s pre-2006 World Cup party. It was called the ‘Full Length and Fabulous’ party, and fabulous was the best way to describe it.

Normally, when I’m invited to events, such as the Elle Style Awards or The National Television Awards, I’m hopeless at organizing and leave everything to the last minute. Mainly because you can wear whatever you want. But for David and Victoria’s party you had to wear a full-length dress – something I’m not used to wearing because I’m only small – which meant I started planning weeks ahead.