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My life has always been chaotic. From the time I got dressed in the back of a deflated, flat-tired, fish-smelling station wagon for Rocky. It's always been do it yourself, kind of like paper-clip it together.

As far back as I can remember, I had an interest in fashion. I used to go to sleepaway camp, and they'd provide a list of things that you had to bring, and I always wanted to be a bit more creative than the list allowed. Like, if they required chinos, I wanted to hand-paint them.

People tell me how great it must have been to ride horses and stuff. Well, do it for two days straight on dusty days when the cows and horses were really tired.

A guy came to the shop every day. A lot of guys put the foam like stuff that forms to you, kinda like the Indy car guys run. He fitted it up and it felt real good, so we're going to try to run it.

During holiday parties I end up recycling a lot of my cocktail dresses and just wearing a layering piece, like a blazer and tights, with it.

My favorite mode of transport is hot-air ballooning. It's so graceful to be blown by the wind, to go where the wind takes you.

Some of the stage outfits I've got are ridiculous. I'll lay out clothes to pack, and it'll look like Polly Pocket clothing - because it's all stretchy, it's tiny. I don't need a case when I tour; I can fit it all in my handbag.

When I was on the swim team as a kid, I used to hide out from my coach by going into the bathroom and hiding out in one of the stalls. And I would literally wrap myself in toilet paper so as not to get hypothermia.

In the trunk of her car, my mother used to keep a collapsible easel, a clutch of brushes, a little wooden case stocked with tubes of paint, and, tucked into the spare-tire well, one of my father's old, tobacco-stained shirts, for a smock.

Carrying those double tanks around all the time got to be a little rough on me. I had to put that damn wetsuit on and take it off, sometimes three or four times a day.