Getting attacked in London might have been the best thing that's ever happened to me. I didn't see who hit the back of my head. These two girls I knew from Glasgow stopped me in the street and said, "You know you're covered in blood." That was it. I went back to Glasgow for four months, back to my siblings and my mum. It's such an old city. You feel its ghosts. Coming home put it all into perspective.

My mum's quite strong, quite tough. She's my pal. She has a great instinct for knowing when I'm not happy. I don't have a clue how she does it. Mother's intuition, perhaps?

Designing clothes has great highs and great lows. One day I'll be sewing in the studio. The next day I'll worry I'm running out of money. I know I wouldn't be happy going to a nine-to-five job. I've managed to escape depression and avoid getting trapped. I have an outlet, which is phoning my mum each day. A lot of people don't have a system like that.

I've devoted a lot of my life to fashion. Maybe work is my boyfriend for the time being, and maybe that's OK. Soon I'll start trying to sort that one out. My mum says, "You never talk about that side of your life." I say I don't feel confident. Something could happen. Something couldn't. Maybe I'm a bit scared. There are lots of things to love in the world other than a relationship. I know what I'm meant to be doing. It brings happiness.