Wonder Women (16 page)

‘That sounds so exciting! You'll be a mumpreneur!' said Miranda enthusiastically.

‘A what?'

‘It's the new buzzword. “Mumpreneurs” are mums starting businesses that fit in with their families.'

‘Ah,' said Jo, smiling, ‘I love a good buzzword. Well, I have a long way to go. Lots of problems to solve before we open
the doors. My biggest worry is that at the moment it's going to be a kids' clothing shop with no clothes in it. You wouldn't happen to know an amazingly talented fashion designer, would you?

‘These are … wow!' said Jo, paging through Holly's portfolio as they sat opposite each other at her kitchen table. ‘They're just incredible. The detail! And the finish on them! Oh, I love this one.' She paused, looking at a floor-length silver evening dress, high at the front and cut low at the back, with a slim train like a mermaid's tail.

‘It was one of my favourites,' Holly said, leaning forward. ‘It was snapped up by a friend who's a drag queen. He certainly had the legs to work it.'

‘A drag queen?'

‘That kind of retro styling always appealed to the queens … Doradolla was started in the spirit of high camp.'

‘I meant to ask you about that … Doradolla?'

‘Afrikaans for “fag hag”.'

‘I don't know what to say,' said Jo, closing the portfolio and leaning back. ‘I mean, you're an amazing designer, and you clearly know your way around a sewing machine, but this couldn't be further from the kind of stuff I need for the shop. Our main focus would be clothes for little boys, you see … and not fancy wear-for-best stuff. Hardwearing, fun play clothes that don't cost the earth.'

‘I know,' said Holly, ‘Miranda told me about that, so I had a bit of a go … I made these for my nephew Oscar.'

She reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of tiny denim jeans, baggy in the bum so they would fit over a nappy, with a soft, elasticated waistband. She'd embroidered them with stick figures and simple shapes: circles, triangles and squares, in primary colours. There were sturdy double-thickness pads over the knees. They were funky and adorable, and they looked like they'd withstand even the most determined toddler.

‘I shoved them in the washing machine on hot half a dozen times,' explained Holly. ‘Obviously they need to be able to take some knocks. It took a few goes to find embroidery thread that didn't lose its colour. And I also made these.' She had two little cowboy shirts in brightly coloured plaid, roomily cut to allow for plenty of movement and with press-studs rather than buttons.

‘I took some pictures of Oscar in them.' She passed her iPad over to Jo, who flicked through the pictures of a laughing Oscar among the autumn leaves in the park. He wasn't necessarily a model baby, but he did look adorable in Holly's simple, well-made clothes.

‘I've been thinking a lot about what kind of stock you might need,' she continued. ‘I can take care of stuff like shirts and trousers, but you'd need more than that … coats for winter, and knitwear, and from the little boys I've been observing, you'll need a good-quality, hard-wearing range of T-shirts too. And maybe also baby wear, and I wouldn't know a lot about that. The challenge will be to get things made here in the UK at low cost. I'm pretty fast, but I'm not sure
I can sew a whole shop full of stock by myself, and getting material costs down is key. You also need to think about how fast you can respond …'

‘Respond?'

‘Well, you won't know what's going to sell and what might be a dud. It's difficult to predict, especially when you're first starting out. You might get a run on a particular line and need to get some more in fast, and some things might just not sell at all, and you'll have pre-ordered more. It's one advantage of being your own supplier. It's easier to be flexible.'

Jo passed the iPad back thoughtfully. ‘Look, there's no question I want to work with you. The question is how?'

‘Well, what are the options?'

‘I don't know. I haven't got that far. I suppose initially I just imagined you'd be a supplier for some or all of the clothing. But listening to you talk … well, I want to lock you in my spare room and never let you go! You know such a lot. And you must know so many people.'

Holly laughed. ‘Well, your spare room may be preferable to the one at my mum's house, which is where I'm currently living, and I'm afraid I know no one in the business here in the UK. All my contacts are in South Africa. It's a pity, because I do know an amazing baby-wear company in Johannesburg … they used to have a stall next to me at one of the markets. Oh, and if you decided to do something funky, there was a guy I knew who did the most stunning Hawaiian-style fabrics, which would make such sweet little shirts … And as for knitwear, there's a collective of
goggos
 – grandmas – in one of the townships who knit the most beautiful things. They've
all lost children to HIV, and they're raising their grandchildren, so it's how they earn money.'

‘Wow! Well, couldn't we make some of those connections work? I'd love to buy jumpers from the grannies, especially as we'd be supporting such a good cause.'

‘We'd have to look at shipping costs, and what the situation might be with customs, and we'd need to see what the lead times would be …'

‘Stop!' Jo laughed. ‘Let's go back a step. Holly, I would love to work with you. My business plan allows me two full-time members of staff, as well as a budget for design and manufacture of clothes, so I think I could pay you fairly. If you'd consider being my design and stock expert, I'd be thrilled.'

‘Not as thrilled as I would be,' said Holly. ‘You have a deal.'

‘So, if you don't mind me asking, what happened to make you leave your business in South Africa? It looks as if you had something great going.'

‘Ah, now that's a long and rather gruesome story,' said Holly, her smile fading. ‘We might need to save that one for a long evening and a large bottle of wine.'

Jo glanced up at the clock. ‘Well, it's past four o'clock, and anyway, it's definitely evening somewhere in the world. Lee's got the kids in the park, and our new working relationship is the perfect excuse to celebrate. And as it happens, I have an average-sized but very nice bottle of something in the fridge.'

‘Sounds good to me,' said Holly. ‘But be warned, more than two glasses and I'm liable to start sobbing into my Chardonnay. Very unprofessional and unattractive, I think.'

‘I'll reverse-medicate with chocolate if the need arises,' said Jo, getting up to fetch glasses and the bottle.

*

Holly stayed in her job at the shop in Ealing for the time being, but she spent her evenings with Jo in planning meetings, or at home sewing prototype garments. Her co-workers from the shop grumbled that she wasn't available for evenings out clubbing any more, and Judith gave a martyred sigh every time Holly bolted her dinner down and headed for the bus stop, or went back to her room to sew. She didn't care what anyone else thought though; she was happy. It felt like the early days of Doradolla, but without the crushing stress. She was having all the fun with very little of the responsibility, and it was fabulous.

Once the finance was in place, things started to move a lot faster. After months of wrangling, Jo got the premises in East Finchley she had long had her eye on. The area was perfect, with a great mix of well-off parents and more-average-income families, and within easy reach of many of the surrounding suburbs like Hampstead and Highgate, where there was plenty of disposable cash. The place Jo had found was on the high street and next door to a chain coffee shop. It was a double unit: a large, square space shop with a light airy feel and a big plate-glass window so that the exciting interior would be visible to passers-by.

Lee had done the initial designs and Jo had gone to a Swedish playground-equipment firm to build all the fittings. They were used to meeting very high safety standards, and what they built was built to last, but it was bright and colourful, although it did make a significant hole in the money
Jo had been lent by the bank. Holly supervised the design and ordering of the fittings to hang the clothes. Zach and Oscar served as reluctant but frequent models as she created her designs. Oscar would grumble or chuckle when she shoved him into something new, depending on whether or not she had a biscuit to bribe him with, but Zach was much more critical. If he thought something was fussy or uncomfortable, he would say so immediately. He also took the brief that these were supposed to be play clothes to heart, and as soon as Holly gave him something to try on, he would jump around, waving his arms, turn roly-polies and wrestle anyone who'd engage.

Holly also set about finding reputable clothing wholesalers to fill the gaps in their range. With winter setting in, she knew they needed coats, and until she could make contact with the collective in Johannesburg and arrange an order and shipping, she needed to source knitwear, especially hats and scarves. A search on the Internet alerted her to a wholesalers' trade show, which featured all sorts of children's products but especially clothing, and she and Jo booked to go. It was in an exhibition venue near Angel, and they decided to make a day of it. Lee's parents took Imogene and arranged to collect Zach from nursery, so Jo had no time pressure. She met Holly at Angel station and they went to a coffee shop for a leisurely breakfast.

‘The luxury!' Jo laughed. ‘I can't remember the last time I got to drink a whole cappuccino while it was still hot, or eat a whole pastry without sharing with two small people.'

‘Have two pastries,' advised Holly. ‘You'll need the carbs to sustain you through this.' She pushed the catalogue and
a piece of paper across the table to Jo. She wasn't kidding about needing sustenance. There were hundreds of stalls listed, and Jo wouldn't have known where to begin, but luckily Holly had done her online research and chosen fifteen companies for them to look at, which she had put into a list.

‘Fifteen?' said Jo, aghast.

‘You want a good selection, don't you? And I'll be able to tell within ten seconds at any stall if the stuff is poor quality and we're wasting our time.'

Holly put Jo in charge of the map, and Jo cross-referenced it with Holly's typed list, plotting a route around the fair.

They got there as the doors opened, but it seemed lots of other people had had the same idea. Within an hour they had to push their way through crowds. Holly was relentless, going from stall to stall, picking up samples and immediately turning them inside out to look at the seams, more often than not then telling Jo they would be moving on. On the occasions where she found workmanship that was acceptable to her, she had a detailed list of questions about styles, prices, delivery times and so on. Jo kept up with her, taking detailed notes. They grabbed a sandwich standing up at the catering stand and carried on their quest. By three o'clock, they had seen all the suppliers on Holly's list. They hobbled back towards the coffee shop where they had had breakfast, but then Jo took Holly's elbow and steered her next door into the pub. With a big glass of wine each and their shoes kicked off under the table, they were ready to regroup. Holly had found a knitwear supplier whose work she liked, and they were confident they could get the prices down to something within their budget. They had both loved the crazy-patterned
quilted jackets made by a supplier based in Devon. ‘They're expensive though,' said Jo. ‘We couldn't sell them for less than forty quid each or we wouldn't make anything.'

‘Well, they could be our top-of-the-range items,' reasoned Holly. ‘Those little body warmers and anoraks were also nicely made, the ones sold by the nice Asian couple, and they were much cheaper. We could take a load of those too.'

‘Not the twee little corduroy waistcoats though,' said Jo.

‘Oh Lord, no. Zach would have a thing or two to say about those.'

Once they had gone through all the brochures and notes, they had filled all the gaps in the range except T-shirts.

‘There just wasn't anything that grabbed me,' said Jo, signalling a waiter to bring them two more glasses of wine.

‘Me neither,' said Holly. ‘Either they cost the earth or the quality was poor.'

‘Or the designs were twee and dull,' observed Jo. ‘Lee could do so much better.'

‘So why doesn't he?'

‘Well, where do we get shirts to print? And how do we do it? I know Lee knows how to silkscreen, but I'm sure he doesn't want to … Hang on a minute!' Jo interrupted herself excitedly and grabbed her handbag. She scrabbled in her purse and came out with the oddly shaped orange business card. ‘When I did my Introduction to Business course, I met two teenage guys who'd started their own T-shirt printing business. I haven't seen their shirts, but I was impressed by the boys. They might be worth a look.' She gave the card to Holly.

Holly looked at the card, and the funky cartoon on it. ‘Outtake,' she read. ‘This is cool.'

‘One of them designs them and the other does the printing, I think. But maybe they'd let us do our own designs and then just do the printing.'

‘To be honest, I like this cartoon,' Holly said. ‘I'll check out their website. Maybe they could do some kids' designs for us too. Something completely original. Tie in with Lee's designs for the shop.'

After they had finished their second glass of wine, they took a stroll around the trendy shops nearby. They happened upon a children's boutique with an antique rocking horse in the window and a display of little smocked dresses in pretty floral prints.

‘Care to check out the competition?' Holly asked Jo.

‘They're not the competition,' Jo said. ‘Totally different area, different clientele, mostly girls' stuff, but yeah, totally. Let's go and spy.'