The Female Lead Page 11
Mum and Dad taught my brother and me to have confidence in ourselves but never arrogance – there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance.
When the Scottish independence referendum was announced, I decided to start looking into things in order to make up my mind. I was definitely a ‘yes’ vote for independence and I thought, if there was ever a time to join a political party, it’s now. So I joined the SNP and started campaigning. My immediate family were ‘yes’ voters, but my aunties and uncles were all Labour voters and dead-set ‘nos’. I’m very happy to say that, one by one, I picked them off and they became ‘yes’ voters and, as far as I know, they all voted SNP in the general election as well!
I had no idea what I wanted to do after university and I had not thought of becoming an MP. But I have a habit of falling into things – whether it be university, politics or whatever it may be. I think it’s good to try things and, if you’re good at them, to keep going and see how far you get. Mum and Dad taught my brother and me to have confidence in ourselves but never arrogance – there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance. Confidence comes from giving yourself credit when it’s due. I am passionate about football and when I was at primary school, I was one of the first girls to be in the football team. In fact, for a while, I was the only girl. My parents always said that as long as you know your stuff and you know what it is you’re going for and why, and if you’ve practised hard and think you’re good enough, then, by all means, stand up and make sure you’re counted.
After we lost the referendum, a couple of folk in the local SNP party were saying that I should put my name forward to be a candidate, and I said, ‘Don’t be daft. I’m 20. What do I know about life?’ I was giving myself the sort of criticism that other people give me now. People in the constituency, some of whom I really respect, started challenging me, saying, ‘Why is that a bad thing? Surely parliament should represent everybody.’ And I thought, ‘Actually, that is a good point.’
I think part of the problem with politics has been people viewing it as a career. You shouldn’t be in it in order to become first minister. You should be in it to try to do a good job.
So I thought, ‘OK, I’ll go through the vetting process and see if I pass.’ I did and then I really had to think about whether I wanted to put my name forward or not. Mum and Dad spoke to me about it, and asked me a lot of tough questions – but ones that I was asking myself. I remember Dad saying, ‘If you do this, you might win and that means that you’re going to be down in London a lot of the week. You need really to think about that.’
I’ve always thought that, no matter what job I ended up doing, it would be about working with people because that’s what I enjoy – and I think I am not too bad at it. I’ll be happy if, in five years’ time, I can say, ‘The place I am representing has been better represented than it ever was before.’ I think part of the problem with politics has been people viewing it as a career. You shouldn’t be in it in order to become first minister. You should be in it to try to do a good job. If you find one day that enough people are saying, ‘I think you would be good at the job of first minister,’ then that’s a different story, but if you are involved in politics, it has to be for a purpose and it has to be in the present. If more people adhere to that, then politics will become healthier altogether.
Mhairi’s Object
A bar of chocolate. When I was at primary school, I used to go with my mum to stay with my granny, who lived a 20-minute drive away. My uncle was severely physically and mentally disabled and we would help my granny to look after him. I was a terrible worrier when I was a child, and if I had a spelling test at school next day, I would be thinking, ‘I don’t know enough, I haven’t worked hard enough.’
My granny used to give me a Galaxy bar for good luck. The tests were always in the morning so, by the time I got to eat the Galaxy, it was a victory chocolate bar. It became a thing and, after I won the election, I treated myself to a Galaxy!
MHAIRI BLACK
Member of Parliament for the Scottish National Party
JO MALONE
Jo Malone, creator of some of the world’s most popular fragrances, was raised in a council house in Kent. She left school with no qualifications and became a facial therapist, making scented products by hand in her kitchen. From these artisan beginnings, Malone launched her first luxury brand, Jo Malone London, with her husband Gary Willcox. In 1999 they sold the business to Estée Lauder Companies and Malone remained creative director until she left in 2006. Two years later she was awarded the MBE for her services to the beauty industry. In 2011, she unveiled her new brand, Jo Loves. A cancer survivor, Malone had a double mastectomy after she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer in 2003.
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I would have been happy with a tenth of my life. If someone had told me when I was teenager that I would go on to be happily married and have a business, I don’t think I would have believed them – I would have sat with my mouth open!
By the time I was 12, I was the grown-up in our family a lot of the time. My dad, as wonderful as he was, was probably bi-polar – I think my mum was as well. Living with people displaying those characteristics was very difficult. When my mum and dad were doing well, they were the grown-ups and the fridge was full, but when they weren’t, there was nothing in there and it was my responsibility to try to keep things on an even keel for my younger sister and me. To this day, on a Sunday night, we eat up whatever’s in the fridge (we call it ‘bits and pieces’), because bits and pieces were a luxury when I was a child.
It wasn’t the easiest childhood, but I wasn’t unhappy and I had two very creative parents. My father was an artist and I would get up very early on Saturdays and Sundays to go to markets with him to help sell his paintings. That’s where I cut my teeth in retail. My mum was a beautician. She used to leave me with a big enamel pot and the formula for her products and, after she’d shown me a few times, I could make them in the kitchen very quickly. Although we lived on a council estate, she had one smart outfit that she wore to work – an Yves Saint Laurent silk shirt, a beautiful Jaeger velvet skirt and high Rayne wedges. She would say, ‘If you can have one thing, make sure that it’s the best,’ and that has stayed with me all my life.
I am dyslexic. I never took exams and I never finished school but dyslexia has been my best friend. Dyslexics often think outside the box because they can’t do things in a conventional way. When I look at business problems, I always think of the less obvious solution. I create fragrance in the same way – always looking for the bit that’s different. I am not a particularly confident person and when I’m feeling insecure, I run to my creative world, and that’s often when I create my best things.
It wasn’t the easiest childhood, but I wasn’t unhappy and I had two very creative parents.
I became a skin-care therapist like my mum, and I used to make all my own treatments and little products, too. I had the products in my sitting room and people would come and buy. I remember someone in Singapore wanted 500 bags of potpourri, which were picked up and put on a private jet! Demand grew and when Gary and I were newly married, he said, ‘How about a shop?’ There was no way I wanted a shop, but he coaxed me round and we opened one in London in 1994. Scented candles went on to become one of the biggest parts of the Jo Malone brand. I made the first 12 by myself and they looked terrible but smelt amazing. So I found a factory to make the first 50, then the next 100 and the rest is history.
When I had cancer, I thought I was going to die. My main priority was to stay alive for my son Josh. I gave myself a year for surgery and treatment and then I had it in my mind that I wanted my life back – and I wanted it back just as it had been. At the end of my treatment, I was really messed up in my head from the whole thing. I went to see a brilliant psychologist, who said, ‘You can’t have your life back as it was, it’s gone. But your life can be even better.’
When I had cancer, I thought I was going to die. My main prio
rity was to stay alive for my son Josh.
I hated her for saying it but then, as the months went by, I realised that I quite liked the strength that I’d gathered over the year – but, when I tried to go back to the company, Jo Malone, I realised that I didn’t fit in any more. So I walked away. I didn’t know whether the cancer was going to return and I wanted to spend time with my son – taking him to and from school and going to sports day. As time went on I realised the cancer wasn’t going to come back and I was left with this huge void. What I hadn’t anticipated was the love affair that I had with fragrance.
As time went on I realised the cancer wasn’t going to come back and I was left with this huge void. What I hadn’t anticipated was the love affair that I had with fragrance.
When I walked away from my contract with Estée Lauder, what’s called a ‘lock out’ was imposed, under which I was prevented, rightly so, from entering the industry again for five years. Those five years were excruciating. I made TV shows, I sat on boards, I did all sorts of things, but nothing made me feel whole again. All I really wanted to do was sit at the kitchen table with lots of bottles and create. So, in 2011, when I was clear of cancer and my son had grown up, I decided to take the plunge and start again. I want to build another global brand and I am well on the way. At the minute all anyone sees is one little shop – but watch this space.
I have lots of strong women in my life that I love but the one person that I have walked round the world with is Charlotte McCarthy [Communications Director of Jo Loves]. Charlotte came to Jo Malone as an intern all those years ago so she knows me incredibly well. When things were tough in the company we stood side by side and carried on building, so I have a lot to thank her for. We get cross with each other but we’re great friends and we adore each other. She’s like my kid sister and it’s lovely to have her in my life.
Jo’s Object
My wooden kitchen table. It’s French and it’s where I have built a lot of my life. Not only have I had black-tie dinners with amazing people – I’ve fitted 14 at a squeeze – but I built the global brand Jo Malone round that table. It’s where we’ve celebrated and it’s where I sat and cried the day I was diagnosed with cancer. More recently, it’s where Gary and I started Jo Loves. We could have had a smart office but we didn’t go for that. We started at the kitchen table again with four computers.
We had a fire in our house a few years ago and the table was saved, thank goodness. It smelled of smoke but we rubbed it down and gave it a good polish, just as you do in life – you scrub up well and off you go again. The kitchen table will always be part of our lives and, if it could talk, it would tell an epic story.
JO MALONE
Perfumer, entrepreneur and founder, Jo Loves
ROYA MAHBOOB
Technology entrepreneur Roya Mahboob was born in 1987 in Iran, where her family was exiled during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan and the subsequent Taliban takeover, which precipitated the destruction of girls’ schools across the country. Her family finally returned to Afghanistan in 2003, and Roya went on to gain a computer science degree from Herat University. In 2010 she co-founded a software company, Afghan Citadel, which won contracts with private companies, government ministries and NATO. She also co-founded Women’s Annex Foundation (now Digital Citizen Fund), a non-profit organisation that seeks to increase digital literacy by the establishment of computer labs where women and girls learn to use social media and produce content for which they are paid. In 2013, beset with death threats, Roya was forced to move to America on an expedited visa. She has since formed a new company, EdyEdy, an online learning platform.
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I was born a migrant. Before the Russians attacked Afghanistan, my father was an engineer and my mum worked for the government. My family left for Iran and I was born there. I loved to study and my father, who taught in a private university, used to take me with him to college. It made me want to be like him.
We have to educate women to teach their sons to respect their mothers and sisters and to allow their daughters to be educated.
In 2003 we went back to Afghanistan and I applied for Herat University. I was lucky because my family was educated and my mother had worked. My parents gave me the opportunity to do the same, but it wasn’t the case for other girls. Most can’t go to university. They marry and have children. They may have dreams of working but, because of tradition, it’s not easy for them to do so. The Afghan people believe that women should stay at home and don’t consider that they can participate in society. It’s not just the fault of men; it’s the fault of women, too. They allow it to happen. So we have to educate women to teach their sons to respect their mothers and sisters and to allow their daughters to be educated.
The education that I provide is not about reading and writing, it’s about digital literacy. I focus on that because it changed my life. I remember wanting to know what was going on in the world but we only had a TV. When I started to learn about the internet and to connect with social media, I became more confident and was so happy. Self-confidence is like magic because everything seems possible and, if you have skills, you can make things happen. For me, everything is like a challenge and I want to prove that I can do it, especially when I hear people say that, as a woman, I can’t.
In 2010 I started Afghan Citadel Software Company with the aim of providing job opportunities for females. I also established IT centres – 11 located in schools – and we have educated almost 8,000 women and girls. Men in conservative societies often don’t see women as first-class citizens but connectivity enables a woman to earn money, which can give her more status in the family. One such woman had been a student until she married and had children. Then she had the responsibility of the home, and her husband wouldn’t pay for her university studies. She began writing articles for the Women’s Annex Foundation and got paid well in Bitcoin. She bought a laptop and started a successful fashion business, which has made her very popular with her husband!
My mum was my greatest influence because she did not rely on my father. When they moved to Iran, she couldn’t work, so she started making handicrafts, just to be independent. In terms of business, I look to Sheryl Sandberg – she is a millionaire, a successful leader and a successful mum. I read her book, Lean In, and I follow her practical advice.
I am a good leader because I am an innovator – I find solutions and make things happen. I don’t just dream. I find which person is good for which job and try to manage problems. Social media not only plays a powerful role in my personal life, it also helps me to resolve business difficulties in an innovative way. I am persistent and an optimist, but I am also realistic and honest with my team, which is important. I haven’t ever felt like giving up, but I have had to rethink or change direction to help women in a different way.
The problem is, as a woman, if you get famous in Afghanistan in any field, you put yourself in danger.
Herat is very conservative and, when I was building the company, people said very bad things about me and there were threats. My father supported me, as did my four brothers. The problem is, as a woman, if you get famous in Afghanistan in any field, you put yourself in danger. I featured in magazines and, while having my work recognised helped when I was finding people to support my projects, I couldn’t stay low profile, and this created problem after problem. At the time, corruption was high and you couldn’t trust anybody. The threats increased and it became dangerous for my employees as well as for me. I left Afghanistan because I thought, ‘Everything is about me and if I am not here, they won’t care so much about what is going on.’
Now, after two years away, I hope to go back. I trust this new government more than the previous one, which didn’t support my work. I have a new platform called EdyEdy, which means Educate Yourself, and I am hoping that it will help every woman, not only in Afghanistan but in other countries as well. The idea is to provide education and access to job opportunities that are acceptable to the culture. It doesn’t matter i
f a family won’t allow a woman to go to school or to work in an office, because the education and work is done online via cell phone, tablet or computer. Women can be connected with local or international companies that offer training with a job. They get paid at a lower rate while they gain experience and then, when they have graduated with a certificate, they can freelance for these companies and get paid more, either by PayPal or Bitcoin.
Through my foundation, Digital Citizen Fund, I want to build between 50 and 100 more IT centres in Afghanistan over the next five years and give connectivity to half a million female students, not only in the cities Kabul and Herat, but in country areas, too. Conservative society wants to keep women quiet. Connectivity is the best tool to raise our voices – they can’t keep hundreds and thousands of women silent.
Roya’s Object
A bird. I identify with a free bird, not one in a cage but one that can fly anywhere, with no limits. A bird is not linked to a country or a nation. It just flies. As a digital citizen using social media, there are no borders for me, and people don’t discriminate against me because of my gender or nationality. My life is like that of a migrating bird. When I was a child, we went from Iran to Afghanistan and then back to Iran, finally returning to Herat in 2003. Two years ago, I had to move to the States where I had to start again from scratch. I have always felt like a migrant, but my heart is in Afghanistan and I am always connected via social media to my country.
ROYA MAHBOOB
Technology entrepreneur and co-founder, Digital Citizen Fund
TINA BROWN
Tina Brown is a journalist, editor and author. She went to Oxford at the age of 17, wrote for the university magazine and was published in the New Statesman while still an undergraduate. She won a National Student Drama Award for a play she wrote during her time at Oxford; the Bush Theatre staged a second. At the age of 25, she was appointed editor of Tatler; in 1984, she moved to New York to edit Vanity Fair and, eight years later, she was appointed editor of the New Yorker. In 2008, she co-founded the online news site the Daily Beast; there she created Women in the World, a platform for women activists, artists, entrepreneurs, CEOs and dissidents. She resigned from Beast in 2013 to concentrate on her roles as CEO of Women in the World and Tina Brown Live Media.