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boots and generally no pants [trousers],” is how she describesher preferred look, wryly. Colour is key. “My fans are obsessedwith knowing my favourite colour,” she says, twinkling, “sothis is important: it was lavender, and then it was yellow, butnow it’s ice blue.” She tilts her head to one side, in school-playground mode. “Like, ice blue mixed with grey.”Grande is at the tail end of her “epic” four-month, self-enforced social-media ban (her Insta army has been bereft, ashave the Twitter and Facebook infantry), so is entirely off-duty,enjoying her last days of privacy before her single “No TearsLeft To Cry” heralds a triumphant return to public life. In afew days’ time, the breathtaking pop smash – with its themesof private grief and universal catharsis – will top the iTunescharts in 85 countries simultaneously hours after its release (acareer high). Whacking it on her speakers for me, she explainsthat she has called her fourth album Sweetener: “because itsounds so youthful and unassuming at first, but when youlisten to the music you understand what it’s really about.”Thumping beats and her astonishing vocals fill the room –Pharrell Williams and Max Martin have done the productionhonours, and guest stars include Dua Lipa. It’s gold-standardstuff. Ariana had total control over the project, and I think howsmart she is. On a track called “Get Well Soon” she has managedto write what amounts to a self-care manual and marry it withthe most infectious hook. It’s like a smile and a tear at the sametime, I tell her. “That’s been a lot of my year,” she replies. “Musicneeds to make people feel hopeful and free and happy.”Then a seriousness enters her voice. “I think a lot of peoplehave anxiety, especially right now,” she says, as a poundingguest appearance from Skepta concludes and she sits backdown. How is your anxiety, I ask? “My anxiety has anxiety,”says Ariana, smiling. “No. I’ve always had anxiety. I’ve neverreally spoken about it because I thought everyone had it, butwhen I got home from tour it was the most severe I think it’sever been.” In September 2017, she returned to Los Angelesafter finishing her concert commitments in Asia, SouthAmerica and Australia, then insisted on doing what she’dalways done: work. “Everybody thought I was crazy when Igot home and wanted to hit the ground running. I was in thestudio the next day,” she says. “I am a workaholic,” she explains.“It is the thing I know how to do best. I’ve been workingstraight since I made my Broadway debut at the age of 14.”On one level, this isn’t surprising. The audacity of herdrive is the stuff of music industry legend. Myth has it thatshe settled on life as a pop diva when, aged four, she wastaken by her mother, Joan, to a Céline Dion concert nearthe family’s middle-class home in the hot, humid Floridacity of Boca Raton. “Could you ever imagine doing such athing?” Joan asked, presumably during a thundering secondencore of “My Heart Will Go On”, to which baby Arianacoolly replied, “Yes.” By eight she was on local televisionsinging the national anthem at ice-hockey games and a starof her local theatre group. (She has a musicals-loving olderhalf-brother, Frankie.) At 11 she precociously tradedCatholicism for Kabbalah over her objection to the former’swas beautiful, devastating and healing. An unlikely nationaltreasure was born.Even so, Grande largely remains a mystery – certainly tomost non-millennials. She has plenty of friends, but she saysthey often just hang out at home because paparazzi andsecurity make travel a bore. Yet make no mistake, Grandeis also at the top of her game, successful in a way that onlya handful of other women can understand (Rihanna, TaylorSwift, Jennifer Lawrence, perhaps). Earning tens of millionsof pounds a year, she carries a multi-platform empire onher tiny shoulders and exerts huge influence in the industry- not least because of the insane devotion of her onlinefollowers. Few artists are more digitally adored by fans. “Ilove, love, love them!” she cries. “Talking to them everysingle day, say hi, favourite their tweets.” She sighs. “I alwaysend up sharing too much.” Famously, she is only 5ft tall – though advance knowledgefails to prepare you for just how teensy the real-life experienceis. It is a bit like having an audience with an extremelyglamorous sparrow, I think, as she flits politely around me,swooping in for occasional hugs. We take our tea through toher dining room, filled with an enormous table covered inscattered notes and piles of make-up and old sunglasses.Though she has lived here for three years, she has yet to hanganything on her walls except tacked-up sheets of A2 paperwith handwritten to-do lists on them (“Things: Roll outsingle. Go to New York...”). The vibe is a bit like the world’smost expensive student house – apart from all the dogs.Grande currently has seven, though she has banished all buta small, sandy mongrel called Toulouse Lautrec from theroom. Toulouse is “very much an artist”, she explains. Rather brilliantly, Ariana has dressed for Vogue in thefollowing: hand-me-down sweatshirt with tacked-on floral-print patches, black leggings from Reebok, with which shehas a sponsorship deal, “and”, she says, leaning into my recorderfor comic effect, “a mystery scrunchie”. Obviously, she’sobsessed with heels. “Oversized men’s jackets as dresses, thigh“EVERYBODY THOUGHT IWAS CRAZY WHEN I GOT HOMEAND I WAS IN THE STUDIOTHE NEXT DAY, BUT I AM AWORKAHOLIC. IT IS THE THINGI KNOW HOW TO DO BEST”``````BELTED TWEEDBUSTIER,AS BEFORE