Kate Winslet has laid bare the brutal cost of overnight stardom after Titanic catapulted her to global fame in 1997, describing the media intrusion as “horrific” and “appalling”.
Speaking candidly on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs with Lauren Laverne, the Oscar-winning actor and now director recalled being hounded by paparazzi, having her phone tapped, and even finding strangers rummaging through her bins in a desperate bid to uncover her diet secrets.
“It was horrific,” she said. “They were just everywhere. I was on my own. I was terrified to go to sleep.”
The relentless scrutiny came at a time when Winslet, then in her early 20s, was already grappling with deep-seated body image issues. As a child she was cruelly nicknamed “blubber” at primary school; later, a drama teacher told her she would only ever land “the fat girl parts”. From 15 to 19 she yo-yoed in and out of extreme dieting, “barely eating” by the end.
Then Titanic exploded onto screens and turned her life upside down. Overnight, she found herself plastered across magazine covers – often digitally altered beyond recognition, with flattened stomachs, elongated legs and exaggerated curves.
“I’d look at them and think, ‘I don’t look like this. My arms aren’t that toned. What the hell?’” she recalled. “I didn’t want even one young woman to see those images and think, ‘Oh my God, I need to look like that.’ That’s not me.”
Years later, during the 2010 breakdown of her marriage to director Sam Mendes, the intrusion returned with a vengeance. Paparazzi pursued her through New York with her two young children in tow.
How did she cope? Winslet’s gloriously down-to-earth answer: “A good meal, a shared conversation, a nice cup of coffee, a bit of Radiohead and a good poo. Life’s all the better for those things.”
Back in the Titanic days, small acts of kindness kept her afloat – like the neighbouring couple who would leave a bowl of steaming pasta and a glass of red wine on the garden wall for her to collect.
Now, as she steps behind the camera for her directorial debut Goodbye June – a film written by her son Joe Anders – Winslet says some attitudes in the industry still need dragging into the 21st century.
She has been patronised with advice such as “Don’t forget to be confident in your choices” – remarks, she points out, that would never be directed at a male director.
Her response? A laughing, unequivocal: “Shut up.”
Winslet’s unflinching honesty serves as a reminder that even the most poised stars are human – and that survival sometimes comes down to pasta, Thom Yorke, and the simple relief of a decent loo break.