The radio and television presenter and her best friend, Clare Hamilton, on behaving badly on shoots, hanging out with the stars after The Girlie Show, and a major wardrobe malfunction. Born in Bolton, Greater Manchester, in 1974, Sara Cox began her career as a model before becoming a presenter on Channel 4’s The Girlie Show in 1996. In 2000, she took over BBC Radio 1’s breakfast show, hosting for three years. She now presents for BBC Radio 2, fronted TV shows including Between the Covers, and has published two novels. Cox lives in London with her husband, Ben Cyzer, and three children. This month, she and her best friend Clare Hamilton launch Teen Commandments, a podcast about parenting adolescents.
This was taken in Granada. We had ciggies on the go and decided to have a pamper session, but as we only had one face mask we had to rip it up and plonk on as many bits as we could. The rest of the day would have involved room service and a few hours of telly, specifically Jerry Springer and Montel Williams. Then we’d probably have ventured out to our plunge pool to do handstands. We were a couple of crackpots back then. Absolutely wild.
I met Clare when we were teen models. That sounds glamorous, but only a small percentage of models make real money. The rest are girls like us trying to avoid going to university. At the time, my family lived above a pub in Bolton called The Pineapple. Mum was working every hour God sent, while I didn’t lift a single finger. I was mainly lounging around going: “I can’t do the dishes! I’ve just painted my nails!” So when I was offered a five-month job in Korea, Mum’s reaction was: “Where do I sign?”.
I arrived in Seoul a few weeks before Clare, and had been hanging out with two Mormon girls from Hawaii. They were God-fearing and very different from the 17-year-old me, who was immersed in rave culture and mostly friends with lads. When Clare arrived I was thrilled. She’s from Whitefield, down the road from Bolton, so as soon as I heard her accent I knew I’d be OK. I asked her two questions to pass the friendship test: “Do you drink coffee, and do you smoke?” Thankfully, she answered yes to both.
Meeting Clare was great for me, but not so much for the people who hired us. We did one shoot in a location that involved a long ride in a minibus. Everyone else fell asleep immediately; they were sensible and knew it would be nonstop work for 12 hours when we arrived. Meanwhile, we decided to stay up, laughing. We were exhausted for the shoot, and so giddy when we got back to the hotel that Clare was wearing my pants on her head and claiming she saw a ghost.
In the end, I got sent back to Bolton for bad behaviour. I’d put on weight as I was eating a lot of comfort food, mainly hard-boiled eggs. I also missed a shoot because I was so hungover. Our hotel was next to an American army base, and me and Clare were drinking a lot with GIs. They loved a British accent – every time I went to light a cigarette, eight Zippos would get whipped out. The moral of this story isn’t: “Lose your job and get sent home.” But it kind of is, because when I got back to the UK I got a call asking if I wanted to go to a casting for The Girlie Show. I’d have missed it otherwise.
Clare and I did all the award red carpets and film premieres together. I was asked to interview Eminem in New York, and, as record companies had loads of money back then, Clare was allowed to come with me. He was super-sweet and we even went to an Italian restaurant afterwards with his 20-strong entourage. When the bill came, they played credit-card roulette – we all threw our cards on to the table and whichever one the waitress picked would have to pay the whole lot. Me and Clare sat on our hands, terrified.
Because we’ve lived far apart for decades we’ve had to make other friends. But Clare is my bestest friend, and bridesmaid, which makes me sound 11 years old and quite pathetic. I love her for lots of reasons: she is patient with me when I wang on, and I can be grumpy with her and know that she knows my bark is worse than my bite. Clare is also really badass – she brought up two little kids on her own and is one of the toughest people I know.
Clare is my absolute soulmate. Sometimes my phone background is a photo of her in a Jacuzzi – as if she’s my wife. In fact, don’t ask me to choose between her and my husband, because it wouldn’t be pretty. When we’re together, we’re the Sara and Clare club. Even now when she stays over and my husband comes in the room, we’ll look at him like: “Yeah, can we help you?” Not that he minds. He loves it when she’s visiting. He gets a break from me.
This was one of many brilliant holidays we’ve had together. The hotel was quite romantic and full of older couples; meanwhile, Sara and I were having margaritas at breakfast. I was 17 and had only been modelling for a few weeks when I was asked if I wanted to go to Seoul. Everything about Korea felt alien to me, so it was such a relief to hear Sara’s voice shout “Hullo!” from the steps of the apartment when I arrived. We were finishing each other’s sentences straight away; already inseparable.
