"We don't want her grades on our wall" the word's my headteacher said in a meeting with my parents and I day's before I was asked to leave boarding school aged 16...in the middle of my GCSE's.
My aim with SWC is to support women, and the future generations in becoming successful in their own right whether it's through their own business or not. Society has a huge stigma for what order life should be done in. 'You go to school. You get good grades. You go to University. You get a good job.' Let me tell you now... that really is not the case sometimes. YOUR GRADES DO NOT DEFINE YOUR WORK ETHIC and we no longer live in a world where grades on a paper make us money.
Starting from the beginning...
These word's my head master said have been a huge motivation to me for the last decade. As a parent it makes me physically ill that this old twat (a very kind term for what he was) could shame a 16 year old girl based on her academic abilities. Was I in the bottom set's for everything - YES. Was there something I was brilliant at? YES! I was great in the art department, textile rooms and the graphic design studio. I was great at what I LOVED - obviously. Yet this man didn't take the time to support the students that were great in their own unique way's instead he chose to make them feel worthless, useless and incapable.
Sadly for him I knew my path would be different...
As a young child I thrived at school. I began boarding in primary - imagine a sleepover with your friends every single night, huge American trunks, our beloved 'tuck' boxes, summer evenings on the playing fields. All the land you could dream of to run around and play. Gareth Gate fan posters stuck all around our bunk beds. We had a Matron that cared, who treated all of us like we were her own kids. Some people are in a job because they genuinely care and want to do their job well. Others... not so much. I will forever be grateful for the memories and experiences I got to have as a little girl in a great boarding school.
However my time at secondary school started bad and ended terribly. I don't think it helped that in my interview for the school when I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up I without hesitation replied 'a pole dancer' when actually I meant I wanted to be a cayote ugly gal... I mean in 2005 who didn't?
Then on the very first night I sneaked into the dorm down the corridor to ask if they had a spare alarm clock. Lights were already out (you can't leave your bed after light's out.) As I crept back to my dorm a torch beamed at me "OLIVIA, BE OUTSIDE MY DOOR AT 7AM SHARP". My house mistress had me litter picking on my first day of a brand new school, at that point I should have known I'd see her door more than my own in the years that followed.
Secondary School really was about boys, rolled up skirts, swopping sensible footwear for heels that were hid in the inside of our blazer. We were the real deal ST. Trinian's or so we thought with our hockey sticks and messy buns, not forgetting the makeup wipe test that was done EVERY morning before the bell. Our housemistress would have us line up and wipe part of our face. Every morning our dream matte mouse foundation would go to waste and we would be forced back upstairs to scrub our faces before chapel having to then enter with red blotchy faces. The teenage dream.
Then there was bloody Saturday school, DofE, CCF. If you don't know what CCF is picture all student's dressed in either Army, RAF or the Royal Navy uniform lined up for inspections, parades, marches, and general military training activities such as burying each other underground (fml), Den building, camo hunts, gun shooting, and the world's longest listening exercises. One time my BFF and I forgot our army boots, walking onto parade for a full inspection in our best Nikes really wasn't the one. The Army officers eyes looked like they were going to explode (an actual officer not just our PE teacher dressed up fyi) he came marching over, standing nose to nose with me and SCREAMED at us in front of everyone. Obviously you can't respond, you just have to stand there straight faced whilst they quite literally SPRAY you with their vocal chords. As a punishment for our lack of footwear we had to go and find spare Army boots in the hut, 2 left feet - 3 sizes too big. If that wasn't embarrassing enough he then made us run LAP'S around the parade for the entire session. If you have ever worn Army boot's they're 5 times heavier than Balenciaga Triple S trainers so it really was torture... and THAT was a career I never wanted in the military over in 0.01 seconds.
My education only lasted another year from being asked to leave. I was placed into another school as a day pupil, I completed my first year of A levels before dropping out, packing a suitcase and moving to Northern Cyprus to chase the island life. That is where I learnt, that is where I became who I am today.
Despite having fail after fail in school, I have no regrets. I have some of the best memories, experiences and motivation from school. But I know there will be young adults out there that have got no qualifications, that are having to work minimum wage job's knowing that deep down they are capable of so much more. I was her. You don't have to excel academically to be successful. You don't have to leave school and go on to Uni unless of course the job you want requires that. You don't have to know your life plan by the age of 18. What you do need is, drive, determination, courage, confidence and self belief. We live in a world where you can be anything you want to be. Don't let anyone tell you that your dreams are too big, or that you're not good enough. YOU ARE MORE THAN GOOD ENOUGH. Believe in yourself and stay in your lane. Invest your time and energy into what sets your soul on fire.
Keep checking back for blog post’s on thing’s I have learnt on my journey from minimum wage to brand founder. Business chats, the power within ourselves and more 🖤
Lots of Love
Liv XoXo