By Wildest career experience
In my mid-twenties, I was working agency-side when we made a spreadsheet error that led to a massive overspend on a client's budget. And when I say massive, I don't mean a few quid. I mean hundreds of thousands of pounds.
What followed was weeks of crisis meetings, difficult conversations, and yes, tears. We eventually came to an arrangement with the client, but it was rough.
The thing that gets me now, looking back, isn't even the mistake. It's the fact that I was twenty-something years old, trying to deal with a six-figure cock-up with barely any support. I was completely out of my depth. And I shouldn't have been in that position.
But that's agency life, isn't it? Everyone's stretched too thin, running on caffeine and stress, doing the work of two people.
When you're that overworked, mistakes aren't a surprise. They're inevitable.
That spreadsheet error wasn't me being rubbish at my job. It was what happens when a system treats burnout as normal and then acts shocked when things go wrong.
It taught me a lot. About sustainable working. About speaking up when something's not right, even when you're junior and scared.
Rant
Nepotism. This industry runs on who you know. The same people get the same opportunities, hire their mates, promote their mates, and then wonder why nothing changes. It's exhausting.
The sameness.
For an industry that's meant to be creative, there's a shocking lack of originality. Everyone's doing the same thing, saying the same things, chasing the same trends. It's all a bit... beige. And I think that's because of the hiring problem. Same people, same backgrounds, same perspectives, same ideas on repeat.
And the cycle just keeps going. People at the top hire and promote people who look and think like them. Those people do the same. Meanwhile, anyone who's different (women, people of colour, people without the right connections) either gets overlooked or burns out trying to prove themselves twice as hard for half the recognition.
I started Wildflowers of London nine years ago because I got fed up waiting for the industry to sort itself out. It's a professional collective for women. We've built a community of hundreds of brilliant people who back each other, share opportunities, and show there's another way to do this. Last year, we won Community Business of the Year at the London Chamber of Commerce and Industry SME Awards. I nearly stayed home to watch Great British Menu, but instead I dragged myself into town, and I'm really glad I did. It felt like proper validation.
I'm training as a coach now because I want to do more of this. Helping women and people of colour get past the barriers that shouldn't be there in the first place. The industry's not going to fix itself. But we can build our own networks and create our own opportunities.
Useful Advice
A former manager once told me, "Title means nothing. Focus on your pay packet and what you earn and learn."
It changed how I thought about my career. We get so obsessed with titles. The next promotion. The fancier LinkedIn headline. But titles are just words. They don't pay your rent. They don't mean you're actually growing. What matters is: are you being paid properly? And are you learning something that makes you better?
How to actually use this:
- Before you chase a promotion, ask yourself if it'll actually increase your pay or just your workload.
- Work out what you're learning in your current role. If the answer is "not much," maybe it's time to go.
- Negotiate. You could have the same job title as someone earning £20k more than you. Fight for the number, not the name.
