Born in 1977 in Carmarthenshire, south Wales, TV presenter Alex Jones is best known for The One Show. In her early 20s, Jones worked in sport and children’s TV, and on Welsh-language channel S4C, and has since been the steady hand at the helm of major televised moments such as Comic Relief, Eurovision and 2018’s royal wedding coverage. Following her recent documentary, Alex Jones: Making Babies, her current project is hosting Reunion Hotel on BBC Two.
I hated my hair. Mum would spend every Sunday evening sorting it out. It’s super thick and she was scared I would catch a cold if I went to bed with it wet, so she would blow-dry it to within an inch of its life. She’d take no prisoners: the brush would be out and we would sit there until it was turning under beautifully and shiny like glass. Mum wasn’t happy until it was perfect.
My sister, Jennie, and I would have gone to the hairdresser a week before this photo was taken, as it’s Christmas and Mum would have wanted us looking neat and tidy for the festive photos. All year long I had gone on and on and on about getting a pet cat. Mum had always been dead against it. She is a bit of a control freak when it comes to cleaning, and up until then her limit had been goldfish. So it was a complete surprise when I went downstairs on Christmas morning and in my stocking were some cat treats. I thought: “Well, that’s an odd present.” Mum said I should take a look in the kitchen. I walked in and there was this cute kitten coming out of her little basket stretching. We called her Holly. I loved her dearly, but she didn’t live for long. She was knocked over by a car on her first birthday. It was the first time I had seen Dad cry. Devastating, but I suppose animals teach kids good lessons.
My childhood was lovely: very secure, outdoorsy and a lot of fun. Mum and Dad were great parents – they still parent me now, to be fair – and we lived in a detached new-build in a cul-de-sac with a big garden. It was a busy home, full of neighbours, friends and family members, and we would often have big street parties and barbecues. Long Sundays are what I remember most. Me and my friends would play at the “dump”, which was just a stretch of field. Kick the can was also a good game we played. Or we’d get our roller boots on. Essentially, Mum and Dad would open the front door at 8.30am and we’d disappear in our shorts and T-shirts, come back for lunch, and then they wouldn’t see us again until 6.30pm before our bath and Antiques Roadshow.
Despite having such a sociable family, I was a shy child. Mum and Dad were young parents and came down hard on me because they thought that was the way to do it. Mum always says that I behaved beautifully when they would take me to someone’s else’s house, but they worried they had taken it too far because I became introverted.
That all changed when I turned 14 and came out of my shell. I wasn’t good at drama, but I loved the subject and had an amazing teacher who gave me confidence socially. I don’t think I would be doing the job I do today without her. When I told my parents I wanted to be an actor, there was an initial shock. Dad said: “That’s a mad idea. Lovely as a hobby, but no. How about art history or law?” Mum, meanwhile, was sensible but encouraging. She’d had a tough upbringing and had to grow up fast. At the same time she was a fan of following dreams and would say: “You absolutely need to do something you love, as I never had the chance.” I ended up studying theatre, film and television at Aberystwyth University.
In the summer holidays I would be an extra in all sorts of things: it was cash in hand, and you’d meet lots of interesting people. Once I did a sitcom about a removal company, and I also did a stint as a contestant on reality TV. I was still in my third year, but decided to go along to an audition in a car park for a Sky One show called Prickly Heat. It was filming in Magaluf for four weeks, and as it coincided with my finals the university had to send my papers out so I could sit them. Davina McCall, who was presenting the show, ended up being my exam invigilator. On the day before my Shakespeare exam, we were on a catamaran filming a party, and one of the contestants picked up all of my notes and threw them into the sea. So that was the end of revision! Mum and Dad were beside themselves: “All this money on education and now you’re in Magaluf!” But actually it was fine. I came away with a 2:1.
I never did the jobbing actor bit. After a few theatre-in-education things, sensible Alex took over and I realised I needed to get a proper job. So I became a really bad TV runner, followed by a really bad researcher, and eventually found my place as a presenter.
The main thing I’ve learned from being a broadcaster for so long is how important empathy is. It’s the skill I use most and it is a privilege that people trust me with their stories. Being down to earth has been key too; it was something I had instilled in me from a young age. As a result, I am probably known as “the girl next door”. While I am a little bit more feisty than people might think – certainly my husband would agree with that – I don’t think my friendly reputation is a bad thing. Given what other people go through, I feel lucky that the biggest assumption about me is: “Alex off The One Show looks like she’d be quite nice.”
Whatever mood I am in, good or bad, I have to host The One Show, but I never feel like I have to be “on” or to fake any kind of sunniness. Our team has such a laugh in the pre-show meeting that I always feel better by the time we are on telly. In fact, work is a bit of a break these days because I have three kids. TV is a walk in the park compared with being at home!
There are a lot of traits that I still share with that eight-year-old girl in the photo. I can still be extremely shy in some situations. I dislike walking into a room full of people I don’t know and I’ll push my husband in first, which might sound odd given what I do for a living. But he is very sociable and doesn’t care, whereas I’m thinking: “Ugh! Is this dress OK? Do I look all right?”
Mum remains hair-obsessed. Compared with her I look like I’m going to a garden centre and she looks like she’s going to the Ritz for afternoon tea. I did a documentary recently about quite a serious subject, IVF, and the first thing she said to me after watching it was: “Now, did you not think to have your hair done before you started filming?” I was like: “Mum, Annie [Jones’s third child] was four weeks old and I was feeding her in a cupboard between takes.” She replied: “Fair enough. But it’s always good to think ahead, isn’t it?”
