Dear Friends of FINDRA,
I hope you are all looking forward to an enjoyable and restful Christmas. I know this time of year can be joyful for many, but it can also be difficult, so wherever you find yourself over the festive period, I hope you are doing okay and gently looking forward to the break and the year ahead.
For me, Christmas has always been a time to slow down. To be with family and enjoy the simple things. After the chaos and busyness of the season, it is those small moments I treasure most, sitting around the table together, sharing a good meal, playing games, laughing, and feeling grateful for one another. Those moments ground me. The greatest gift for me is simply being present with the people I love.
That feeling sets the tone for this Sunday's blog, because this one is all about family. My family, my extended family, and my FINDRA family, too.
At the start of December, FINDRA turned 11, and I still find that hard to believe. Some days it feels like a very long journey, and on others it feels like it has flown by. Milestones like this naturally make you pause and reflect on what you have built, what you have survived, and what has kept you going.
One word kept coming back to me: resilience.
I have spoken about resilience before, often in the context of business, but I have talked less about where my own resilience comes from. Much of it has been shaped by experience and learning how to navigate challenge and uncertainty. But a great deal of it came from watching others cope with difficult times, particularly my parents.
I am the youngest of five children, brought up in Coatbridge, North Lanarkshire, a proudly working-class town where community and close bonds mattered deeply. We were a Catholic household with a large extended family, and life revolved around home, siblings and being together. Those early values shaped who I am, and they remain central to me today.
Looking back, I can see the quiet resilience my parents carried. They faced difficult times head-on, supported each other, and leaned on those around them when they needed to. That strength shaped me more than I probably realised at the time, and it continues to influence how I approach both life and business.
One example of that resilience, which I only became fully aware of as I got older, was a serious accident involving my older sister. It was a freak accident that happened one morning as she was getting ready for school, and it left her fighting for her life. I was only two at the time, so I have no memory of it, but my sister spent several months in the hospital before making a full recovery.
Over the years, I have watched her face challenges with quiet determination, bouncing back time and time again. Looking back now, I can understand how my parents faced that period and many other challenging times with strength, supporting each other and leaning on family and friends around them. That experience showed me, long before I could put words to it, what resilience really looks like.
At 17, I left home to study at the Scottish College of Textiles in Galashiels. Our family already had strong connections to the Scottish Borders, particularly Walkerburn and Innerleithen, and over time, that connection grew into a deep love for this place, which is now the place I call home and where I chose to build FINDRA.
Leaving home was exciting, but it was also incredibly hard. I struggled with being away from my family and found the adjustment overwhelming.
Those first few weeks, and even months, were really tough. I was so upset that it would probably have been easier for my parents to say, “Right, we’re coming to get you and bring you home.” But they never did. Instead, they were always at the end of the phone, listening patiently as I tried to make sense of my emotions through snotty tears.
Not once did they suggest I pack it in. Instead, they encouraged me to stick with it, reassuring me that things would get easier and that I would adjust. They reminded me there would be positives too. And a few weeks in, I discovered the Student Union, so they were absolutely right, there were definitely some positives.
My parents’ support during that time was constant, and it helped me find my feet.
That support stayed with me, and there is one moment in particular that I often return to when things feel hard.
In my final year at university, my tutors encouraged me to apply for a Master’s degree at the Royal College of Art in London. It felt like another step well outside my comfort zone, but I decided to go for it. Even if I was not accepted, I told myself that at least my portfolio would be ready and in good shape.
The Royal College of Art was known for its rigorous application process, and my tutors warned me about the interview, particularly about Professor John Miles, who was head of the Fashion and Textiles School at the time. He had a formidable reputation. There were stories of him being brutally honest, intimidating students, and even throwing portfolios out of his office. By the time I was invited for an interview, I was excited but terrified in equal measure.
My mum and dad decided they wanted to travel with me to London for my interview. We arrived early on the overnight sleeper train, and after changing at the hotel, they travelled with me across the city to Hyde Park. The Royal College of Art sits beside the Royal Albert Hall, overlooking the park, and as we arrived, the reality of the day really began to sink in.
I was carrying one of those huge A1 portfolios, feeling nervous and unsure as I made my way up to the Fashion and Textiles Department on the eighth floor. Sitting there waiting, I remember wondering how on earth a wee lassie from Coatbridge had found herself in the heart of London, about to be interviewed for a place on a world-renowned art and design course. When Professor John Miles appeared and called my name, my heart began to pound as I followed him into the interview room. Just as I walked in, I glanced out of the window to my left.
Sitting on a bench in Hyde Park were my mum and dad, happily eating their homemade sandwiches and drinking tea from a flask they had brought for the train journey.
Seeing them there was incredibly powerful. In that split second, something shifted. A sense of calm came over me, and I knew that whatever happened in that room, whatever the outcome, everything would be okay. They were what mattered. Family. This interview was not going to define me. I was loved and supported for being me, not for what I achieved or whether I got into the Royal College of Art.
That realisation grounded me. It allowed me to let go of fear and simply be myself. It also reminded me of something deeper that my parents had always instilled in me. Resilience comes from stepping out of your comfort zone, being courageous and embracing the unknown. It is about feeling the fear and doing it anyway, because the most important thing is to try. Even if you fail, you will learn something, and the people who truly matter will still be there.
The interview itself went well, although Professor John Miles initially tried to steer me towards menswear and asked a student to take me to the menswear department for a look around. That student was Christopher Bailey, who later went on to become Creative Director at Burberry. As we walked, I remember saying to Christopher that I was not a menswear designer. I was a knitwear designer, and I was clear about the direction I wanted to take.
When I returned to the interview room, I thanked John Miles for the opportunity to see the menswear department, but I was clear that knitwear was what I wanted to pursue, and that was the course I was here to apply for. It would have been easy to feel intimidated by his knowledge and experience, to nod along or shape myself into what I thought they wanted to see. Instead, I chose to stand by who I was and the work I believed in. That clarity led to me being offered a place on the Knitwear and Textile Design course at the Royal College of Art. A few months into my MA, John Miles told me that being clear about who I was and standing by my work had played a big part in their decision to take me on.
Another thing I was taught growing up was the importance of finding your voice, expressing what you believe in and having the courage to stand by your values even when it feels uncomfortable. I am pretty sure being the youngest of 5 siblings certainly gave me plenty of opportunity to practice finding my voice!
The image of my parents sitting on that bench is as clear to me today as it was back then in 1993.
That experience has stayed with me ever since. In some of my most challenging moments in business, I still return to that feeling of grounding myself in what really matters, reminding myself that it is okay to try and it is okay to fail, as long as I stay true to who I am.
And 11 years in I have faced many challenges, and at times almost lost my voice, but when it really came down to it I would know when I was pushed to my limits, like the time a business consultant ( male) told me the first thing he would do if he got involved in FINDRA would be to sack me as the CEO and maybe let me be involved in a creative role. I politely told him I would think about it over the weekend. When I let him know on Monday through a mutual contact that I would be declining his offer, his response was ‘She's got some set of balls'
Charming, it's precisely because I dont have a ‘set of balls” that I do what I do and keep going and have lasted in business for 11 years, but the irony of his statement would be lost even if I tried to explain it to him, so I didnt bother!
I have many examples of this, but thats for another blog, another time!
As I have gone on to build FINDRA, my family has always been that anchor. And now my sons are part of the business too. They have grown up with FINDRA, almost like a little sister in the family, and they, too, want to see her flourish. Working together is not always easy, but I am incredibly proud that they are part of this story. I hope I can be that grounding and encouraging presence for them, just as my parents were for me.
Sadly, both of my parents have passed in recent years, but I am deeply grateful that they got to see me start and grow FINDRA. I carry their strength and values with me, and I hope to pass that same sense of love, steadiness and belonging to my own family. Thats how they live on in us.
And finally, there’s my extended FINDRA family – our team, our community, and all of you. Time and time again, when things feel particularly hard, a message, an email, or a comment arrives at exactly the right moment. A reminder of why we do what we do. A reminder that FINDRA means something to people. And that’s what has carried us through 11 years.
Not just products. Not just business decisions. But people. People who care. People who believe. People who show up.
So as we move into the year ahead, I just want to say thank you – to my family, my FINDRA family, and to everyone who’s been part of this journey so far.
Here’s to resilience.
Here’s to family, in all its forms.
And here’s to everything still to come.
Wishing you a very 'Merry Christmas'.
Alex x
Sunday Inspiration
“Your Word is your Wand” By Florence Schivel Shinn
Released in 1928, this visionary New Thought guide explores the manifesting power of affirmations decades before modern self-help trends. It teaches that your spoken words act as a "wand" to reshape reality, drawing success and health through positive decree.
Favourite Quote
Favourite Song
For my Mum and Dad x
