As Rhizome’s resident broadcast media guru, I’d love to say I was born with a silver microphone in my mouth. Sadly nothing could be further from the truth.
But my childhood ambition to be an astronaut foundered when I realised that rocket science is, in fact, rocket science. So I read languages at Cambridge instead. Graduating hungover and overdrawn, I decided to become a journalist. A professional gossip – how hard could it be?
Soon I was an ink-stained hack on the local paper. The pay was atrocious, but the perks… well my name was on the guest list of every nightclub in the Fens. OK, so I may not have been the East Anglian P Diddy. But I was very good at talking and showing off. So I switched to being a TV reporter. I joined the BBC, and rose up the ranks to foreign correspondent – first in Brussels and then Washington DC.
But eventually I decided to give my passport a rest and plunged headlong into the world of PR. From the Rhizome eyrie in Soho I’m now all about getting our clients as much broadcast coverage as possible. I’m still drawn to cameras and radio studios like a moth to a flame, so I’m using my expertise to provide broadcast media training for clients who find the idea a bit daunting.
When I’m not persuading my journalist contacts to put Rhizome’s clients on air I’ll be at home talking French to my bilingual kids (after so many years in Brussels we’ve gone Eurotrash) or scoffing unpasteurised cheese and burgundy in the French ghetto that is Clapham.