Caitlin Moran On Doom Knickers, Dickens & Living To See The Dawn

By Lucinda Baring

14 seconds ago

The journalist and author of How to be Hopeful chats hoovering, Pizza Express and why she will always believe in the future


Few writers can swerve from festival toilet tactics to the tech monopoly in the space of a single conversation, but Caitlin Moran is not most writers. Ahead of the release of her new book, How to be Hopeful, the journalist – and contributor to our must-read books of 2026 – sits down for The Rurbanist to talk binoculars in the bath, Russell T Davies’ life-changing advice and the dream that finally came true after ten years of letters.

Rurbanist: Caitlin Moran

glencoe landscape

Credit: Chris Clark, Pexels

What’s bringing you joy?

A new, very small handheld hoover, to hoover out the cutlery drawers. I have about 14 hoovers. I have given up smoking, so now when there’s a pause in my writing and I can’t go and have a fag, I hoover for five minutes instead.

What’s annoying you most right now?

People who are on social media and complain about how anxious they are. It is called ‘doomscrolling’ for a reason. If there were ‘doom knickers’, you wouldn’t wear them; if there were ‘doom cakes’, you wouldn’t eat them.

What could you have been arrested for?

I did the correct amount of drugs for the 1990s. I’d given them up by 21, when I learned that if you have ADHD and you take a stimulant, you just fall asleep under the table.

A conversation that changed everything?

When I was a TV critic I met Russell T Davies, one of my heroes, and he said: ‘You are not a critic, you’re an enthusiast. You write best when you love something.’ It has become part of my life philosophy. There is no point going around criticising things; the greatest thing a human can do is point out things that are brilliant instead.

What book inspires you most?

Wintering by Katherine May, which changed my life. If you hate winter, you hate a quarter of your life. This book helps you find a way to love it.

Best life hack?

If you don’t want to queue for the toilet at a festival, wear a long skirt and no knickers. You can sit on the ground and spread out your skirt like Deborah Kerr in The King and I and silently wee into the grass. Let it dry for ten minutes and then walk away.

Where do you go to escape?

My bath. Using the money from one of my books I put a big bath in the loft, with a huge window and no curtains, which distresses my husband. I have a pair of binoculars and I lie in the bath and look at the birds in my garden.

You wouldn’t know it but…

If I wasn’t a writer, I’d be a town planner. I would be an excellent mayor, too – very thoughtful and beneficent.

What has been your most embarrassing moment?

Making Sir Paul McCartney walk out of an interview. I tried to ask him an incredibly clever question and it went wrong, and the man I’d spent half my life wishing was my dad and the other half wishing was my husband looked really offended and terminated the interview.

What is your greatest treasure?

HRT, without which I would be completely insane.

What’s the best way to put a smile on your face?

Come and tell me about a problem you’ve solved.

What do you keep by your bed?

Nothing gorgeous, just literature and dental aids. Specifically, a Kindle; floss; a mouthguard because I’m an inveterate tooth grinder; and a volume of Dickens’ journalism magazine, Household Words, which I found in a bookshop in Wye. He was endlessly curious and it documents everything he sees.

Advice you’d give your 15-year-old self?

Don’t cut your own fringe with the scissors your mum uses to cut bacon.

What keeps you awake at night?

Nothing. I have immaculate sleep.

Your greatest triumph?

Every year for ten years I wrote to the landlord of the flats next door, asking him to consider selling me the garden, which was overgrown and never used. For nine years he said no, and then he granted the greatest dream of a 50-year-old woman: not a neck lift or to fuck Pedro Pascal, but a bigger garden without moving house.

Your greatest failure?

I once tried to invent a sausage and apple soup. The theory was correct – you eat pork and apples – but when you’re a creative culinary visionary, some ideas fail.

What do you love best about Britain?

The only way to be a true patriot is to love our trees, our climate, our position in the world. We are so fortunate to be a little island off Northern Europe with incredible variety, from the Scottish Highlands to the Norfolk Fens.

Everything else I love about our country can become complex, but I can love what it looks like – our chalk rivers and wonderful mountains – without it becoming dodgy.

How can we save the world?

By reading my book, which says little things can make your days and the days of people around you better. Instead of being online and arguing, go mentor someone, go pick up some litter, go and give blood.

Become informed, read some history and get some perspective. Get some sleep and get a dog. The world will be a better place.

If you could change one thing?

I’d break up the tech monopoly. It is insane that five people are in charge of the majority of global communication and have become richer than several countries. And all of them are straight, white men, who are the worst at talking.

We’re in 2050, what does it look like?

I am a very hopeful person; I will always believe in the future. Look at history: when you live through dark ages, you live to see the dawn. We get ourselves out of pickles.

Your epitaph would read…

‘She gave it a go.’

Caitlin Moran’s Quick Fire Favourites

  • Scent: Cheap incense
  • TV series: Location, Location, Location
  • Chocolate bar: Lindt Dark Sea Salt
  • Song: ‘One Day Like This’ by Elbow. It’s all about hope
  • Restaurant: Pizza Express
  • Holiday: Corfu
  • Hero: Sir Paul McCartney
  • Gadget: Moustache remover. Years of dutiful service

How to be Hopeful by Caitlin Moran

Ebury, hardback, £22

BUY NOW