Born in Oldham in 1984, Nick Grimshaw is a presenter best known for his time on BBC Radio 1, as well as his mischievous charm and A-list social circle. Starting his career as a runner for MTV, he went on to present T4, became a judge on the X Factor, hosted the Radio 1 Breakfast show and now has a culinary podcast, Dish. He lives with his fiance, the dancer Meshach Henry, in London with his two dogs. His memoir, Soft Lad, is out now.
Eileen
Nick always wanted to be the centre of attention, and was a very comical child. In that picture, he was probably eight, and it would have been Children In Need night. When that happened, my God, he made everyone sit down. He’d get you nuts, crisps and sweets, and you’d have to watch the whole lot. He’d get obsessed like that with everything – television, radio, music. There was a dog book fad, too. He knew off by heart every breed and he’d take it to church when we went to mass, hiding it inside the hymn book so nobody could see.
Nick’s talkative. It was like switching the light on in the morning, then it was all day, nonstop. He was known for it, and would get in trouble at school because of it. He knew from a young age that he wanted to get a job at Radio 1. He said: “That’s where I’m going to work” and his dad replied: “Mmm, you and a million other kids.” But Nick stuck by it.
As well as chatting, he was in a band, playing the cornet. It was terrible. When I’d get my friends round – there’s a group of nine of us, we call it Girls’ Night – Nick would worm his way in. The cornet would come out. Once or twice he’d say: “I don’t want you to look at me while I do it,” so he’d have his back to us. He was way out of tune and we’d be bursting not to laugh but his dad would say: “Brilliant! Fantastic!” He got thrown out of the band in the end and I had to try to talk them into letting him back in.
When he left home for university we thought we’d gone deaf because it was so quiet. His house was a dump. You’d wipe your feet when you came out – it was atrocious. Then he was off to London. He wouldn’t really tell me what was happening down there – he’d just say he was handing out flyers.
I didn’t see a lot of him back then, but sometimes he’d bring his friends up for Christmas. Nick asked if Amy Winehouse could come one year. I said: “Why?” He said: “Well, she’s got nowhere to go.” She didn’t come in the end, but I did speak to her when she rang the house phone.
Nick’s very thoughtful. Even more so as he’s got older. He’s grown up, and I now see him settled with Meshach, and they’re so lovely together. My friends all say I’m so lucky he wants to include me in everything he does. I’ve had some brilliant holidays with him, but when I visit him in London it’s always a bit full-on. I get there and he says: “Don’t worry, we’ll have a nice quiet weekend” but it never is. He’s bumping into people, or there’s a party and we’re not home until quarter to six the next morning. It’s exhausting, but I do think, you know what? While I’m fit and able to, I’m going to enjoy it.
Nick
That was the prime spot in our lounge. I was getting ready to watch the telly and cuddle with Eileen. The green mark on my hand was from painting – possibly a frog. My milk teeth hadn’t fallen out but my adult teeth started growing – so you can see a single fang in the picture. My family were like: “Oh that’s horrible! That’s so gross.” They used to call me Wolf Boy. How mean.
I was enjoying my life at this point. I loved primary school. It was in a bungalow, and it didn’t feel as if I was doing actual work, just running around seeing gerbils or a stray dog. We’d do skipping or play rounders or welly chucking. It was about this time that I got into Hardcore Ecstasy – a rave compilation that I loved. At secondary school I had friends but I was never in a clique or a gang, and I wonder if it’s because my reference points were off because of my older brother and sister’s influence. I was less excited about the Spice Girls because I was like: “Yeah, but have you heard the Slits?” Pretty annoying. I obviously also loved Girls’ Night.
I don’t know what it was about cities, but I always wanted to be somewhere bigger. I grew up in suburban Oldham and enjoyed the chaos of going to central Manchester. Once I realised I wanted to do radio, I knew I had to go to London. It seemed there was so much life for young people there versus being on my mum and dad’s watch, listening to wood pigeons and having a potato hash for tea. I wanted a racket.
I ended up meeting Mairead [Nash] and Tabitha [Denholm] from Queens of Noize when I was doing student radio. That night we went out together and didn’t come back for 24 hours. My friend Jenny dropped me off the next day at my parents’ and my dad was in the front garden. As the car pulled up he said: “Where the bloody hell have you been? Look at the bleeding state of you!” I looked straight ahead and said: “Drive on.” He chased me down the road with clippers and I hid at Jenny’s. London was such a big fast city, so the friends I made I bonded with quickly. When I was unemployed, me and Amy [Winehouse] would get drunk in the day in Camden, and Mairead and Tabitha really looked after me. Sadie [Frost], too.
When my dad died [in 2016], a family friend, Sarah, said to think of it as the start of a new sort of relationship with my mum. We could be adults together rather than mother and son. I was worried about her feeling alone after such a monumental change, but we ended up becoming good friends and she’d come out with me to parties, or we’d go away with Sadie’s family.
Mum was never fazed by any of my friends. Once I took her to a Stella McCartney fashion week dinner and everyone famous was there – Rihanna, Kate, Naomi. None of it bothered her, although it was good gossip for her when she got back home and could tell Girls’ Night how gorgeous they all were. That being said, she did lose it when she met Alan Titchmarsh. The night before, I’d taken her to DJ with me at one of [stylist and journalist] Katie Grand’s fashion parties and we ended up having a big night. I was so hungover the next day when we were supposed to go to the Chelsea flower show together, that we ended up getting drunk there to get over it. Then she saw Alan. She was like: Alan! Alan! Weak at the knees for Alan.
My mum has also been a victim of many pranks on the radio. Once Alan Carr called her and said he was a casting agent who wanted to know if she’d like to be Pauline Quirk’s mother in Broadchurch. Another time, I called and said I had all these demands for when I visited next: that I wanted a kilo of wheatgrass and an ostrich egg. It was so funny that we made a song on Radio 1 of my mum going “Wheatgrass?” over banging techno.
When I was younger, I’d call her when I needed something – and also because contractually you should ring your mum. Then I called her for pranks. Now I phone every day because I want to gossip or to hear her news. Even though I’ll keep taking her along to parties, my favourite thing is still staying at home watching telly with Eileen.
