Design and making has always been in my nature. At the age of 8, I was definitely going to be an architect (then pronounced Archey-Teck) and I had acquired a wholly inappropriate tool kit – including a razor sharp saw I still have to this day.  It seems almost a cliché now to mention the enormous Lego collection.

I spent my childhood in Hong Kong, a place where the cutting edge sat comfortably next to the traditional. Steel and glass skyscrapers next to 1000 year old temples. – Unbeknownst to me then, it would be the basis of a theme that would permeate my design life.

My love of making and design continued, constantly rearranging my bedroom furniture in pursuit of the ultimate layout (finalised when I could control my multidisc CD player from the comfort of my bed beaming the remote control through the perfectly placed mirror). At some point I had even drawn out a section to include a ‘design studio’. Tilted table and all. 

Studying 3D Design at Brighton was the perfect degree for me. I was given (somewhat) free rein of multiple workshops and encouraged to explore materials and processes. The beauty of the course was that there was no expected outcome to this exploration. A piece of furniture or a decorative object held equal validity.  

I studied alongside students studying sculpture, ceramicists and product designers which gave me such an appreciation of both the Fine and Mechanical Arts. 

Building on my degree, I worked on various projects and in various roles. Site carpentry, bespoke furniture and architectural model making gave me great experience in every stage of an interiors project. 

This paved the way to joining Lloyd in 2005, where, for nearly a decade, we were designing and making the weird and the wonderful. From elaborate window display to high end furniture (and naturally a myriad of kitchens in between) I was in a position to design, detail and make such a broad and amazing portfolio of work. It gave me the opportunity to explore and research materials, processes and history of design. We employed state of the art machining right next to tradition craft. 

I have fond memories of this time, it was varied, fast paced and incredibly rewarding when a plan came together. However, it was also full of tight deadlines, all-nighters and becoming masters of obscure processes that may never be used again! I craved something with a little more continuity, with a little more permeance. There was a wealth of knowledge being built and stored, ready to be fully deployed into the right project.

When Leila joined us, we funnelled all our individual expertise into Pluck – a sum truly greater than its parts. It was the crucible for our experiences I had been looking for, an outlet for our shared creativity.

I graduated from the University of Leeds with a degree in Philosophy and the History and Philosophy of Science and a brain that had learned to work in new ways. 

I then spent a decade at the BBC working as a news journalist, including a secondment to the Middle East Bureau. My final position was as an Assistant Editor for the World Service. I could talk forever about what I learnt at the Beeb – storytelling, accurate writing, decision making under pressure, deadlines, editorial oversight, adapting to working in different environments, seeing through bullshit, questioning bullshit, shared humanity – you can always find common ground with another person. 

Why did I leave? I had a sudden post 30-panic. Did I want to spend the rest of my career at the BBC? Rather than report on what other people were doing, I wanted to make sure that I was fulfilling my own potential, indulging passions and taking some risks. 

So in 2014 I joined Lloyd and George in the design business. What I have not mentioned prior to this is that I have always appreciated a good interior. Before Instagram and Pinterest Lloyd and I took the renovation of our homes seriously – choosing paint colours, scouring antique markets for affordable furniture, hanging artwork, sourcing tiles…all of it. 

As a teenager I ragged the shelves and wardrobe doors in my bedroom, probably inspired by Changing Rooms and definitely by our neighbour who owned an antiques shop on Fulham Road and was always redecorating, tweaking and changing her house. Thanks to extremely tolerant and creative parents I was allowed to paint my bedroom when it felt necessary, the small loo on my landing too (that was a dark blue drench). Indeed, one of the final palettes for my bedroom was red and gold – hideous or glorious – you decide. 

I grew up in a kitchen with a sunshine yellow ceiling, fuschia pink walls and pistachio and cornflower blue woodwork, whilst the butler sink and wooden draining board had a brooding still life mural behind (done by an artistic family friend). The worktop was a huge piece of solid Elm my parents would literally wax and also wax lyrical about its beauty. The room is suffused with so many happy memories, a place that was the nourishing, a vibrant core of our home…easy to say now, but this all feels like an augur for what was to come.

‘We’ll make a plan’ that was the mantra of my childhood that still runs deep today. Growing up in South Africa there is an attitude that you must forge your own path, take responsibility and create opportunities. This of course is all written through the prism of someone who grew up in apartheid South Africa, but when I was young, in the rural Western Cape, life on a fruit farm seemed simple. Natural beauty and a sense of freedom abounded; we children played with each other no matter our skin colour or background. 

The greatest gift my dad ever gave me was access to his fine woodworking tools in our home workshop. From the age of eight I was into tinkering – go-karts, contraptions, inventions, an extending arm for picking apples, essentials like stilts, furnished tree houses with pulley systems, rafts  – Heath Robinson, Swallows and Amazons – an absolute dream. From my mum I gained a life long passion for cooking and everything food related. Our kitchen, which she designed from scratch, had open shelves and cupboards, simple wrought iron brackets. All hand painted in bright colours and finished to look more like something you would see in Provence than Africa.

This is without a doubt why I’m in furniture making today and also explains my fascination with timber, my curiosity with materials generally and how they can be applied practically to life…though my priority now isn’t whether I can winch my lunch to my treehouse…not yet, anyway. 

Design beckoned at university in Cape Town, where I studied Industrial Design and immersed myself in the thrilling academic world of design. I learnt about William Morris, Heal’s and all the great modernist Danish furniture makers…and began to be seduced by the idea of Europe. 

I had never left southern Africa, but In 2000, armed with my portfolio, a new laptop, an endless amount of enthusiasm and an awful lot of naivety I set off on my odyssey. I spent the first month basically living off Covent Garden soup and baguettes, but I was in heaven, intoxicated by life here.

It never crossed my mind that starting my own design business was unusual. I had made contacts, worked all the hours I could and so the sensible thing was to carve my own path – make a plan.