This is a story about me, my mother and a picnic with my god-daughter. 

When we were little girls, my sister Emma and I were forbidden from touching my Mum's precious sewing scissors.  She was a couture designer turned home dress-maker.  Her mother had been a milliner.  With big, black, heavy handles and sharp, shiny blades they were simply irresistible.  Sneaking in we'd 'borrow' and blunt them on paper and cardboard cut-outs.

30 years on, now running my own business designing and handmaking childrenswear I jealously guard my own pair with my life.

But it wasn't a natural inheritance of a family business.  Far from it.  When I set up Peak Princess two years ago, she sighed, 'Why did you go to university?'  Apprenticed at 15, she'd not had the opportunity.  Academic from the off with a Masters in European Politics a career in Brussels as a euro-crat was the more obvious career path.  A stint in Paris, followed by an adrenaline driven job as a Radio 4 news producer in London satisfied her ambitions.

Glandular fever changed my perspective on life.  We moved to the Peak District and I took a career break.

A picnic in the park on a sunny summer day was my eureka moment.  I’d been toying with romantic but unrealistic notions of setting up a garden design business rather than returning to the city commute and deadline stress.  Then it hit me.  “Jo, how much did you pay for Tilly’s dress?  It’s 2 hankies sewn together’.  I could do that”. 

So I did.

Looking back I’m just glad I was as naïve as I was enthusiastic.  I ran up three prototypes and bored all my friends senseless quizzing them for market research and chasing their children to try on each new variation on a design. 

Mum spent a week locked in my sewing room teaching me how to up and downsize my patterns with my sceptical but supportive husband bringing up tea.  Her mantra that “sewing’s not magic” reassured me on days when my confidence wobbled.   

My West End store manager sister said: ‘What do you know about retail?”.  But she cooed when she saw my designs and ordered two dresses.

Undoubtedly, Liberty of London’s support has been vital.  Their fabrics are a joy to work with.  Choosing from their range of prints each spring and autumn is like being a child in a sweetie shop.

The support of family and friends has been invaluable.  I’ve roped in everyone.  My in-laws designed my logo, my big sister taught me some of the dark arts of digital photography and my sister-in-law taught me my MOQs and my RRPs.

I was intimidated by 99% of business books.  Emma Jones’ Spare-Room Start-Up was a revelation – good, common-sense advice.

And as for Mum, she’s come round to the idea of her daughter being Peak Princess rather than Prime Minister.  As she put it:  “Your grandmother would be proud.”