I was holding my mum’s hands and praying. Will people accept me with my pimples and hoarse voice?
Ever since I was little, my mum used to choose an outfit for me and lay it on the bed so I’d know what I was wearing the next day. I never went to a uniformed school, so I always had an outfit – and I never really grew out of that, I don’t think.
My mum and dad only had me and my brother.
My most treasured item is the brown leather bag that my mum bought me from a little Italian shop for my 21st. It’s supposed to be a vanity bag, but I use it as a handbag.
I promised my mum that if something did happen to her, although I never thought anything would, I told her that I wouldn’t give up on acting until I got my Oscar. This was her dream for me.
My mum used to always dress me and my sister in matching Laura Ashley dresses. And I’d be like, ‘Mum, I just wanna wear my Doc Martens!’
My mum is just the sweetest person on Earth, and if I turned into her, I wouldn’t be that upset at all; in fact, it would be an honour.
My mum is my biggest critic. She said I was good for the first film, but I can still be better, and I need to polish my acting skills.
When I was 10, I had dyed red hair, and I used to paint my nails – I think my mum secretly loved it.
My mum always told me I was precious, while my dad always told me I was worthless. I think that’s a good grounding for a balanced life.
I learned to sing from my mum and dad’s record collection.
Both of my parents had a change of career. My mum was a nurse, and now she’s a college lecturer.
Louis Tomlinson, who is a member of One Direction, his mum was a chaperone on ‘Fat Friends.’ So Louis used to come to the set with his mum, and since I was the only sort of young person around, we would kick a football around, things like that.
I know exactly where I’ve come from, I know exactly who my mum and dad are.
My aunt put my cousins into a children’s modelling agency, then my mum did it with us. Me and my sister got a few TV adverts, which was good pocket money. A director saw photos of me and asked me to do a short film.
I happily went on holiday with my parents until I was 18, because we always had such a good time that I didn’t want to venture off and do my own thing. I have very fond memories of those holidays with my brother, mum, and dad.
And that’s my honour, that’s what my goal is, to always keep my mum’s name ringing, because I know what sacrifices she went through for me.
My mum was a peacemaker, and in personal things I tend to do that, because I can’t deal with personal conflict. I find that horrible.
My mum is bright, ambitious, well read, political and very bolshie: when my dad was conscripted into the Army and posted to Libya, she convinced some general to let her go with him. I don’t know how she managed it.
My mum and dad always brought me up like that. You go to work, you do your best.
My mum is incredibly leftwing, and my dad was quite rightwing – no surprise they didn’t stay together – and so I had two very conflicting political opinions as a child, neither of which I was interested in taking any notice of, being a sort of little reprobate.
I’m a West Indian mum and West Indian mums will go to the wall for their children.
I don’t like feeling vulnerable. I think my mum and dad’s divorce affected me more than I let on.
My mum wants the best for me. And I like having my mum around me.
I’ve never been able to understand how risk-averse my mum is. She hated conkers, pea shooters, and anything that could have someone’s eye out: skipping, swinging on your chair, talking with your mouth full.
I deliberately went to boarding school. It was my choice. My mum was abroad and I wanted to wean myself off being dependent. It was a very important time for me to be able to create my own individual, independent life; just as a way of growing up.
I’m amazed that things have panned out the way they have. I always say I’m so lucky, though my mum always says, ‘You make your own luck.’
Mum and dad thought I was going to say I was pregnant. I said oh no, no, I’ve just been nominated for a Golden Globe. They were like, oh that’s lovely, love.
My mum is Croatian, and obviously she’s female and she’s very emotional, very hot-blooded, very touchy-feely, whereas I think my dad’s quite British.
I built up a knowledge of 1960s and ’70s British films because my dad used to work nights, and I’d sit up with my mum and watch films – ‘How I Won the War’ and the films of Richard Lester, Karel Reisz and John Schlesinger.
My mum is my best friend.
In the ’80s the band was 24/7. You were only as good as what you were producing at any given moment. Now my family is more important. I also think having the shock of your mum and dad dying humbles you slightly.
I remember when I got to 16, my mum was like, ‘No, now you’ve got to go and get a proper job. We’ve indulged you long enough.’ I don’t think they ever thought I was going to be successful in entertainment at all.
I remember when ‘Grease’ came out, I used to force my mum to try and grease my hair back, and it was never long enough, and literally I’d be screaming at her, ‘Do it. Just do it!’.
My mum had a massive influence on me, not just in what she wore and how she looked, but in her spirit. She was married to one of the most famous men in the world, and she didn’t wear any makeup, ever. I mean, have you ever seen the wife of a man like that rock up with no makeup on? Because I haven’t since.
My mum always told me 95 per cent of success was partnering well.
I most want to be remembered for being as great a mother to James and Lennon as my mum was to me and my brother Jamie.
Mum and Dad were very much friends and up for life. There was no anxiety for anything when I was growing up; they just taught me to be me.
I was fourteen, watching ‘The Princess Bride’ for the 254321th time, captivated by Wesley and Inigo dueling on the cliff-top. I had never held a sword in my life, but I phoned my mum and said, ‘I want to learn to fence!’
I did part-time jobs until my apprenticeship as a milling machinist at Vauxhall when I was 16. I got £15 a week and I used to give my mum a fiver of that.
I always remember my dad’s blue overalls and the blue overcoat he wore in winter, and I remember my mum’s big old Afro. Sometimes, though, in my memories, smudges have replaced their faces.
I do love a bit of fashion. I grew up around a lot of it as my mum and dad had clothing stores so my mum was always designing a lot, and I definitely had that as an influence.
I would love to be a mum if I’m blessed to have children. My wife and I have those plans.
I’d like to think I’m a normal sort of guy, but go to my mum and she’ll probably say, ‘You know, Chris was always the daughter out of my three boys.’
My family went to Toronto to visit relatives when I was 13 or 14. It was the first time we had ever been abroad. This was the early Eighties, and I remember the impossible glamour of air travel – my mum spending days trying to decide what she was going to wear on the plane.
I’ve tried and failed a lot. But I’ve also tried to be really clear about my brand. It is who I am. I’m a mum, I’m a wife, I’m 44 and from the Midwest.
I used to go swimming and passed the tennis courts every day, and that’s how it started. My mum said, ‘Why don’t you play tennis in your summer holidays because you have nothing to do except swim for an hour or whatever?,’ and that’s how I started playing.
My mum was Labour-voting, but wanted us to know we were important. Basically, everyone’s equal, but you, my children, are a bit better.
I remember being about eight and watching ‘Pollyanna’ with Hayley Mills. I looked at my mum and said, ‘Mum, I want to be Pollyanna.’ She said, ‘You’re going to have to make yourself cry if you want to be an actress.’ So I turned my head away, and when I turned it back I was in floods of tears.
It wasn’t through choice that I became a mum at 36. I wanted to be a young mum but things never worked out for me.
I watched Italia ’90 with my Mum and Dad and my brother, you know, leaping around the house when the penalties were on… It would be great to be part of that, to have that kind of impact.
I woke up one morning to find I was famous. I bought a white Rolls-Royce and drove down Sunset Boulevard, wearing dark specs and a white suit, waving like the Queen Mum.
My mum taught me to knit when I was a child, and I turn to it, for some weird reason, when I’m feeling depressed.
I was 14 when I started modeling. At the end of that first day my mum said, If you want to do this, you’re on your own because I’m not traipsing around London ever again like that. It’s a nightmare.
If my mum thinks I’m acting like a diva she’ll soon tell me off… She’ll cut me down to size!
I’m Catholic and Mum taught me the comfort that you can get from going to church. But I’m an a la carte Catholic. I love all the pomp and ceremony of it.
Mum used to hide love letters from my boyfriends and put me down. Now I understand that she was a Polish immigrant forced to settle in Chicago. She was jealous of the freedom life gave me.
Growing up in Texas, mum had five girls to feed on a very limited budget, so we’d end up eating the same thing until it was gone – some weeks it was carrots.
I wanted to emulate my parents – Mum captained India in basketball, and Dad won a bronze in hockey in 1972 Olympics. My focus has always been to achieve excellence whether in the field of tennis, in the corporate field, in the art of acting or in motivating youngsters.
