By Lucy Grimwade.
As a bit of background. Samantha and I met on Instagram. It was at the height of the pandemic and I was pretty miserable. I stumbled across her page, became a client, transformed my style and best of all, Sam and I became FRIENDS.
Now, grab yourself a cuppa and dive into this spotlight conversation 💡👇
Samantha: One of my earliest memories is standing on a little stool, wearing my mum's heels and sunglasses singing 'I'm Too Sexy' - sounds weird for a 2 year-old, and whilst I didn't have any concept of what 'sexy' meant, I know I felt good about being me. Then just a few short years later, I got told by the adult who was making my dance costume that I was 'fat'. Standing in front of her, in nothing but my little pants, belly popping out as is totally normal, I had my first feeling of humiliation. My body was wrong. I shouldn't enjoy dressing up, or dancing... those things aren't for me. And that's the belief I held onto in the years that followed. It impacted my relationship with clothes - even though dressing up and creating outfits was something I loved, it was out of reach.
And so I threw myself into writing and focussed on becoming a journalist. I was from a council estate, knew no one in journalism, and had to do jobs like cleaning hotel rooms so I could afford to do internships at newspapers and magazines. I thought that maybe if I made it to the hallowed halls of Conde Nast, I'd feel better about myself. But when I finally got there, I realised how deeply these places were vehicles of insecurity; I overheard some shocking conversations that don't bear repeating.
Nevertheless, I loved helping people, and I could see that in other ways, journalism did this. And so after trying my hand at TV and radio (and feeling it wasn't for me because I believed I was 'fat' and 'ugly'), I went into local news.
There were lots of exciting things about being a journalist - you never knew where the day would take you. From meeting royals, to being in the circus, no two days were the same. But the BEST part was the 'every day' people. People come to you when they're at the end of their tether; they might have been going back and forth with a company or housing association for months, one call from a journalist and the situation is sorted. We launched many campaigns and raised money (the OX5 Run at the Oxford Mail literally raised millions to fund the building of the children's hospital).
I was a good journalist, but I had an aptitude for leadership. I ended up getting four promotions in 5 years and became a daily newspaper editor. I was Journalist of the Year twice and Editor of the Year.
But at the time of becoming an editor, I could count the number of women editors I knew on one hand.
I also went to an event for women in journalism, where some of the people I'd admired for years were going to be.
...It was the worst event I've ever been to. I realised that women had been so conditioned to believe there was only one seat at the table for us, that we competed for it, rather than pulling up more chairs and inviting more women to join.
In my first editorship, I inherited an all-male team. They'd recently been bought and it was obvious they didn't want me there - and that would have been the same had I been a man or a woman.
But being a woman in leadership comes with a specific set of challenges. There were occasions where I'd walk into a meeting and the people we were meeting would introduce themselves to my male deputy, assuming he was in charge. I also got a lot of abuse online - I remember an entire thread on an article about my boobs. It was so incessant that a few of my male counterparts would remark on it. Whilst their jobs were very stressful, they didn't have to deal with the objectification or the lazy abuse that's levelled at women.
At one set of papers, we had a historian. He was a retired journalist who loved coming in and keeping things tidy. The archive was fascinating - 100s of years of history, documented in daily newspapers. I was having a particularly tough day when he asked me to join him in the archive room. He grabbed this large book from a shelf, and opened it to a page with the photos of past editors. They were a line-up of affluent, privately-educated, middle-aged white men. "I wonder what they would think of you being here," he said. "Just take a moment to acknowledge this."
Things were harder for me than they'd been for them, let's be real. Not only was I dealing with huge industry changes, brought about by technological developments happening faster than we could keep up with, but I was also dealing with the assumption that I should be a man.
I decided I was going to use my wardrobe not just as armour, but also in rebellion. You can wear colour and be great at your job... who'd have thought?!
At the time, personal brand for journalists was also becoming important. And my wardrobe was a massive part of my brand.
Just as well I loved style, because what to wear to work was NEVER addressed.
Just take a second to think about how much formal training you've had on workwear?
Your company might give you training in compliance, IT systems, etc. But how much support have you been given about what to wear?! And isn't that ironic, considering that getting dressed for work is a) something you have to do every day b) a huge part of the way you're perceived and c) informing your identity.
When you feel good in what you're wearing, you're more productive, more likely to get visible and a better brand ambassador. You are also more likely to stay with an employer who not only supports you being yourself, but invests in your training and development.
As I was meeting other women at events or online, they'd ask for my help with what to wear. Questions like - how to dress for an interview, or what to wear for a big meeting if they needed a boost of confidence.
Whilst doing something like this had always been a dream of mine, it always felt like a pipedream. But two things happened that were the catalyst:
1) I was hiring for a senior role, and not one woman applied. I knew of 3-4 great women who'd have done well in the role, but when I asked why hadn't applied, the answers were - I'm not good enough/ I'm not qualified enough/I'm not ready etc. I was determined to help increase the confidence of women in the workplace, so they would go for more senior positions and increase their incomes.
2) Someone asked me for the name of 'whoever did my style' (it was me )
I attract many clients who work in IT/STEM. I think it's because I understand the challenges of working in a male-dominated industry, but also because the workwear conversation is behind where it should be.
I recently attended some tech/ conferences, and it was interesting to observe not only the dress (so so so much black and grey), but also speak to women about their experiences. One (anonymously) told me that she felt she couldn't wear what she really wanted; another said she felt forced out of her tech career because she didn't 'fit'.
Stories like this make me MAD! When we cultivate environments where people feel fully-expressed, we allow new ideas to flow, community to flourish and more money to be made!
Lucy: That experience, I can really resonate with and I am sure some of the readers will be nodding their heads too. So, a couple of questions for you, can you tell us what are you working on right now?
Samantha: My big overarching mission is to set up some kind of mentorship scheme for kids from a background like the one I came from. For the past year or so, I've been mentoring a young person who was struggling with anxiety and low self-esteem. To see what they've overcome and achieved is remarkable, and I have to say a massive THANK YOU to my clients for that. Whilst there is absolutely no shame in people wanting to make money, if I didn't have clients, I wouldn't have had the capacity to offer this free support. At the time of offering, I didn't have many clients. I just trusted that the kind of women I want to work with would have offered their help too.
Lucy: The power of mentoring really is transformational. You're have to let us know if we can help at all. Next question I have for you is, what's the worst advice you have received?
Samantha: Don't promote yourself. A man decided it would be cool to tell me to stop selling my services on social media... ya know, someone who isn't my client. Saying things like this to women in business is dangerous. Women as entrepreneurs is still a relatively new concept, and we are still carrying around centuries of patriarchy, so it's little wonder so many women struggle with speaking about money or asking for sales. If you see a woman promoting her business online, either support it, or scroll by. And if you hop into my comments or DMs with this garbage, prepare to be schooled.
Lucy: Jeez, I can relate to that. Final question - both of us as Coaches, we know that the coaching industry is ever-growing and it has been reported that there are many benefits for women working in male dominated fields to invest in their development through coaching. I wonder, what are your views on that?
Samantha: I absolutely believe in the power of coaching. I was never coached during my journalism career, but since, I have invested a significant amount of money in coaching. As someone who uses the modalities of coaching in their work, I think it's vital to continue with learning and development. One of my personal pet-hates is companies that don't understand why investing in their people pays off. Most of my clients are private - and they're working with me to develop their careers. They're spending their money on personal development, for the benefit of their employer.
Connect with Samantha www.thestyleeditor.co.uk
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