It was 1982 and I was fresh out of Saint Martin’s School of Art, wet behind the ears and eager to get a job in media. I met two young women who worked at the BBC, we came up with an idea and we approached a TV legend called Paul Watson, who was a kind of British terrestrial version of Martin Scorsese. After various meetings at the old BBC headquarters in White City, we even made a pilot.
He didn’t end up producing our show — it was called Avid and was meant to be a weekly television version of an insanely fashionable magazine — but couldn’t have been more enthusiastic or more encouraging.
