Not in Cherie Blair's book
The tone is toxic at times. That is true.
But there is a charming account of Mrs Blair's time as a nude model in the late seventies, knitting tea cosies as gifts for the artist, Euan Uglow.
As she describes the scene, the two met at a dinner party of Derry Irvine, her legal boss, later Lord Chancellor, who was a serious art collector and, as she less than admiringly describes, an even more serious consumer of fine wine.
Uglow was a well established painter with a fine reputation for female nudes. She was then a junior and not fully employed barrister. Tony Blair, to whom she was not yet married, was there too.
She writes how she never thought she would have to pose naked for her £3 an hour - but when he handed her an open fronted, waistcoat-like 'blue dress' which he had himself designed, she did not feel she had much choice.
She was to be a 'striding figure'.
The work, however, was never completed.
After two years - and the exchange of festive knitwear for a marble lectern ('neither of us had much money so we agreed to make each other Christmas presents') she felt she had to stop.
'Tony had begun to query why I was spending quite so much time with this man'.
'He never knew that I was posing nude. I certainly never told him. There came a point when Derry hinted at it. Either way, Tony was very uncomfortable with it. He still is'.
Uglow got another dark model for the nylon waistcoat, an art student called Debbie whose face survives in 'Euan Uglow, the complete paintings' while Cherie's, 'though you can still see it's me' does not.
Uglow often kept his work away from public gaze. When his young barrister became the Prime Minister's wife, he was especially protective of 'Striding Nude, Blue Dress (unfinished) 1978-80.
The Blair's first son was called Euan, 'after Euan Uglow and also a school friend of Tony's who had died far too young'.
Eventually it did appear. The complete catalogue, published after the artist's death in 2000, comments on its 'stark contrasts of colour and absence of a narrative explanation, and concludes that it is 'one of Uglow's most uncompromising paintings'.
Mrs Blair never found her reputation easy to manage in Downing Street. More often than not she was a portrayed as a combination of Marie Antoinette and Lady Walpole (seen in the more classic premier's wife mode, right).
Her autobiography is packed with the frustrations of not being able to do more of what she wanted to do most - to be political in her own right.
The unfinished picture does not appear in 'Speaking for Myself'.
Which is a pity.