Peaches Geldof. Socialite, rock heiress… and writer? Here’s some choice observations from her banal debut column in New York mag Nylon. It’s like, totally, like, deep and stuff…

On her US travels:
The days passed by in a haze of truck stops, fast food restaurants and palm trees. My Jack Kerouac adventure led me to New York, where I fell in love with the place all over again.

Ahlan! says
A battered copy of On The Road and an ‘arty’ beret, do not make you Jack Kerouac, love.

On New York:
The sun glows a burned orange as it sinks behind a skyscraper, a car horn screeches irritably, the wind whistles through the acres of willows in Central Park.

Ahlan! says
That community college creative writing course just paid for itself.

On London:
I grew up there, walked its cobbled streets a thousand times, and frequented its infamous haunts. 

Ahlan! says
Was this back in Dickensian times, sweetie?

On her husband:
Max changed into an 80s red silk evening dress to present the American Eagle Music Festival in Pittsburgh, to my amusement and his Chester French bandmate’s confusion.

Ahlan! says
Shucks, you Keraaazy kids! 

On her career:
[Nylon TV] is the most irreverent, off-the-wall, and creative show I have ever had the pleasure of presenting. And I’ve presented a lot of television in my time. 

Ahlan! says
Really? Like what? And ‘In my time’?! You’re 19!

On her New York friends:
My best friend here is a boy named Bunny. We spend our days traipsing around Manhattan – him in skintight plaid trousers, huge geek glasses, and a mass of red hair sticking out haphazardly from beneath an Amish-style hat. 

Ahlan! says
Bunny doesn’t sound in the least bit pretentious, does he?

On being a New Yorker:
We buy pizza from street vendors, run through Times Square marvelling at its energy, and source new vintage boutiques.

Ahlan! says
Oh, the luxury of not having to work for a living, eh?