The way they start their day

Mine is not a regular, normal lifestyle. I live in an apartment above my offices in Covent Garden, just down the street from my club. You have to be half deaf to live there: in the morning there's a garbage collection at about 4am, the sound of revellers leaving other bars and clubs nearby, and the police always seem to have to come past me with their sirens going if there's trouble in the West End.

The night before, I'll have been at the club from about 10pm until anywhere between 3.30 and 5am. The lifestyle is totally exhausting unless you're living it all the time, like me, and people with me tend to drink more than they think they do. Even I get wiped out if I have certain drinks, like Scotch or red wine, so I now stick to Italian white wine, which I call quaffing wine. I'm constantly eating, drinking and talking at the club, and will have between a bottle-and-a-half and two bottles of wine spread over about five hours.

Still, I wake up fairly easily at about 8am. I'm usually a bit parched around then, though, and so will go downstairs to the fridge to have some fruit juice. I then go back to bed and wake up again either round 10am, or when my assistant, Pat, calls me from the office downstairs.

I have a girlfriend living with me at the moment, but even if I haven't there's invariably a woman with me when I wake up - I very rarely sleep alone. Helen, my current girlfriend, can't wake up at 10, so I get up alone and go and make coffee. I feed my four cats, unless the woman who comes in to clean for me every morning has already done it. Helen, meanwhile, goes on sleeping until about 1pm, but then she does modelling and television work and doesn't usually have to go anywhere until afternoon or evening.

I'll then wander downstairs to my offices with my mug to get the papers from Pat, which I'll take back to bed and read for another hour or so. By papers I generally mean the tabloids, and I also get a media cuttings file on myself a couple of times a week from an agency, which gathers together everything published about me in Great Britain in the last few days. It never breaks me up, though, what the media says about me: at best I'm "England's favourite playboy", which I quite like, or, at worst, simply a "strip club owner".

The bedroom is the best room in the apartment - I've made it that way because I spend so much time in there. The bed, which is Victorian and has a goose-down mattress, must be the most comfortable bed in Great Britain. There's an en suite bathroom with jacuzzi, and a sound system and TV; I often have Sky News on in there in the morning. I also have two phones at the side of the bed: one is a general line, on which calls to the club can be put through to me, and the other is a direct line, on which personal calls come straight through to me before Pat arrives. But anyone who is a friend knows not to ring me before about 11.30, or at least that they have to have a bloody good reason to call before then.

Between 12 and 1 I'm ready to do business, and then I work all the way through. First, I'm usually just meeting with people downstairs, like my financial director, my operations director, my commercial director - who's my brother - or my promotions team. After that, though, I might have to go out shopping in Covent Garden, at the Tesco Metro, or maybe do an interview somewhere. I quite like doing radio interviews, as I can go to the studio and still be a bit slobbish - I'm a bit of a Bob Geldof figure during the day. I'll put on a pair of cords, a shirt, a waistcoat, boots and a fun fur, and that's how people around Covent Garden usually see me.

But if I don't have to go anywhere, I stay in my dressing gown throughout the afternoon, and people who come to meet me in my home accept that. I only get ready properly when I'm going out in the evening, when I wash and get dressed up in my Versace suit. When I'm in my club, it's as if I'm on stage

Interview by Scott Hughes