Model, muse and novelist Penelope Tree talks taste

My personal style signifier is my hair. My fringe is quite a strong statement, but in some ways it was also something to hide behind. I also have this enormous forehead, so it kind of looks better with a fringe. There’s not much else I can do with my hair because it’s so intractable and fine.

The place that means a lot to me is Nepal. I first went there in 1969 with [photographer David] Bailey and fell in love with it. The trip was for British Vogue and it wasn’t a great success – there was a lot of stuff going on at the time, so it was a little bit disastrous, let’s put it that way. But I’ve been back several times since and it’s always wonderful. It is now so built up and unfortunately very polluted, but the magic is still there; you get this sense of infinite possibilities. And of course, if you’re a Buddhist, there are so many power spots there. 

And the best souvenir I’ve brought home is a little brass statue of [the Buddhist goddess] Tara that I bought in Kathmandu maybe 10 or 15 years ago. Without sounding pretentious, I am a Buddhist practitioner and I love Tara. She is the archetype of nature, compassion and wisdom, and you can really see that on the face of this statue.

The best book I’ve read in the past year is The Lost Wife by Susanna Moore, about a woman in mid-19th-century America who leaves an abusive marriage, moves to the Midwest and becomes involved with the Sioux tribes. It’s based on historical facts, but it is actually the most fantastically well-written book. It’s very spare. It’s beautiful. Also, The Nirvana Express by Mick Brown, the story of how eastern spiritualism came to the west. It’s very funny and brilliant.

My style icon is Carey Mulligan. It seems to me that she never puts a foot wrong. She’s certainly no paparazzi queen but whenever I see her she’s dressed so beautifully, and I really like her as an actor too.

It never feels like an extravagance to buy a book

The best gift I’ve given recently was a road trip in Mexico for my kids, Paloma and Michael, at Christmas. We were on the road in Yucatán and Quintana Roo for two weeks and Paloma drove the whole way. We started off in Mérida, a beautiful old colonial town, then visited Chichén Itzá and Valladolid before driving two hours through tropical farmland to the tiny coastal village of El Cuyo, where we spent Christmas. On every house, even the humblest, the Christmas lights were spectacular, and on Christmas Eve we gathered around the park bandstand to watch a couple of local singers perform. It was low-key – my idea of a perfect Christmas. We stayed at Mero Mero, a small hotel a block away from the sea.

And the best gift I’ve received was a set of first-class tickets to Australia for my 70th birthday four years ago. I had my own little hutch on the plane. I lived in Sydney for 15 years, between 1981 and 1996, so I spent six weeks in New South Wales with old friends.

The last thing I bought and loved was a little grey labradorite pendant that I got from a street seller in Mérida during my Christmas road trip. I added some labradorite beads when I got home to make a necklace.  

The best way to spend £20 is to make a donation to Lotus Outreach International, a non-profit that educates girls, primarily in Cambodia and India. I’ve been on the board for almost two decades, so we have girls who have gone all the way through to tertiary education.

The last music I downloaded was by Hermanos Gutiérrez, a band of amazing Ecuadorian-Swiss musicians. It’s like flamenco with a Latin influence. My daughter introduced me to them – we have very similar tastes in music and are constantly going back and forth about what we like.

I have a collection of Australian art. When I lived in Australia practically all my friends were artists, so that’s what I bought. My favourites are by Cressida Campbell, including a painting of Siena, Italy, which is quite rare because most of her paintings are Australian subjects. She carves wood and makes one print from the woodblock, then paints onto the carved wood. She sells both the print and the woodblocks.

In my fridge you’ll always find lemons, hummus, tahini, carrots, Peroni beer and champagne – I don’t go for big classy brands; I buy it from the Co-op and no one knows the difference. It’s called Les Pionniers and it’s delicious. Co-op Les Pionniers Non Vintage Champagne, £22.75

I’ve recently discovered kundalini yoga – a type of yoga that involves chanting, singing and breathing exercises – after I was introduced to an 80-year-old teacher in Mexico. She was so fantastically beautiful, I thought, wow, you’re really onto something here, so she turned me on to another teacher in London, Andrew Hunt. The purpose is to activate your shakti, the spiritual energy said to be located at the base of your spine. I do an online class once a week. 

The thing I couldn’t do without is coffee. I’ve got a Breville Bambino Plus espresso machine, and I buy my beans from the Deluxe Coffeeworks Roastery in Shepherd’s Bush

An indulgence I would never forgo is OTT book buying. I have around 1,500 in my collection. Some have been in my possession for 50, 60 years; they’re like old friends. I love bookshops – especially John Sandoe, Daunt Books and Hatchards – and I probably buy one or two new books every week: novels mostly, as well as books on Buddhism, history, art and fashion. It never feels like an extravagance to buy a book.

The last item of clothing that I added to my wardrobe was a cobalt-blue jacket from Zara. It fits well and Zara’s tailoring is as good as anyone else’s.

The beauty staple I’m never without is Kiehl’s Crème de Corps. I’ve used it for about 50 years and all through my pregnancies, when I was huge. I never got stretch marks – and I think it’s because of that. Kiehl’s Crème de Corps, £57 for 500ml

My favourite location is the Boudhanath Stupa in Kathmandu. Its origins are lost in the mists (and myths) of time. And there are all kinds of stories about how it was built and how it’s been a pilgrimage spot for all kinds of people. It has the most tremendous power and, when you’re there, it takes about 15 minutes to walk around it. You see a lot of the old Tibetans who walked over the mountains in the ’60s and ’70s every day. It also features heavily in my novel, Piece of My Heart, about a model in the 1960s who becomes the lover of a famous photographer.

My beauty and wellbeing gurus are Andreas Wild at the Larry King salon. He’s brilliant and just gets my hair. He’s also hysterically funny. And Ulli Wiesmann, a great acupuncturist. He’s really helped my knees. I went to high-impact exercise classes for about 20 years when I lived in LA. I was thinking I’d have to have a knee replacement, but Ulli has made a huge difference. They’re not perfect but are mostly pain-free. 

My favourite app is Merlin Bird ID, which I discovered last summer. It identifies birds by their song or calls. There’s this incredible cacophony of birdsong where I live in West Sussex in spring. Although I do seem to get mostly blackbirds and robins. It’s always a thrill to get an owl or nightingale.

In another life, I would have been an animal whisperer. 

The work of art that changed everything for me was Seurat’s painting A Sunday on La Grande Jatte. I saw it at the Art Institute of Chicago when I was in my early 20s and my father had just died. I was feeling really upset, lonely and unhappy and it changed the moment. I went into the painting in some way, a kind of visionary experience – and I’m not prone to visionary experiences. 

Some of my best ideas have come from swimming in the sea. I particularly love the Aegean.

The podcast I’m listening to is Song Exploder, where musicians, songwriters and pop stars talk to host Hrishikesh Hirway about how their songs came about. The episodes are only about 20 minutes long, so great for those in-between moments. I also listen to the Desert Island Discs archive, which I love, particularly the episodes with Keith Richards and conservationist Isabella Tree, my niece.

The one artist whose work I would collect if I could is Peter Doig. I saw a retrospective of his at Tate Britain in 2008. It blew my mind – I was just transported by his work. He lived in Trinidad & Tobago for long periods of time and also Canada, so you get this tremendous diversity in the scenes that he paints. But at the same time, he also takes you to a different world.

The best bit of advice I ever received was from my mother, who was very socially minded and extroverted: she said when you’re having a difficult time talking to somebody, ask them about their childhood. I’m very introverted, but I’m still interested in other people. I want to have a good connection, it’s just that I don’t always know how to broach that big, awkward first-meeting thing. 

Piece of My Heart by Penelope Tree is published by Moonflower Books at £18.99