I think I may be approaching middle age.
There have been warning signs, obviously. But the real giveaway is how much pleasure I get from reading the council newsletter.
Some people wait for Vogue. I like to know what’s happening with the bins.
In my defence, that newsletter has been extremely good to me. Over the years, I’ve found business support, useful advice and grants that have helped pay for digital marketing.
Come for the recycling arrangements, stay for the economic development opportunities. Surprisingly gripping stuff.
And a few years ago, somewhere among the local events, I spotted an invitation for small businesses to apply to work with student consultants from King’s College London.
King’s Business School, no less.
I applied. This is now the fifth year running that a team of final-year business students has worked on a project with McIntosh.
The council newsletter has done rather more for my professional development than some things I’ve actually paid for.
Back to university, 26 years later
This week, I caught the bus to Aldwych and headed into Bush House, the former home of the BBC World Service that is now Kings College London Business School.
Once, that building broadcast important information around the globe. This week, it had me talking about wool.
I like to think standards remain high.
I left university 26 years ago. An outrageous administrative error, surely. I still think of myself as someone who has recently graduated, although admittedly my knees have started submitting evidence to the contrary.
Walking into a university brings it all back. Walking into King’s adds marble, enormous staircases and the distinct feeling that somebody might ask you to explain your methodology.
The whole place has gravitas.
I had a bus ticket.
You can practically feel the great and the good looking down at you, wondering whether you’ve done the required reading.
I wanted to explain that I’d been very busy and that, in my defence, a lot of wool had needed knitting.
Four students and one very thoroughly read brief
My team greeted me with four bright, happy smiles.
They looked enthusiastic. Organised. Ready.
Then I discovered they had read the brief I’d sent ahead.
All of it.
I cannot stress enough how unsettling it is to arrive at a meeting and discover that everybody has prepared.
Then came the questions.
My goodness, the questions.
Thoughtful questions. Precise questions. Questions in the right order, each following logically from the last. Every time I finished answering, they asked exactly the next thing that needed asking.
I arrived thinking, “I’ve been running this business for years.”
Within minutes, I was thinking, “Thank goodness somebody’s taking notes.”
They were wonderful. Clever, curious and interested in understanding how McIntosh works, what matters to me and, most importantly, what matters to you.
Helping make McIntosh better for you
The project is something I’ve been thinking about for quite a while. If it works out, I hope to launch it next year.
I’m keeping the details tucked away for now. But the purpose behind it is straightforward: to take a proper, thoughtful look at McIntosh and help me make it better for you.
That means understanding the business beyond the balls of wool. Why it exists. How it has grown. What customers need from it. And where there might be opportunities to do things better.
Naturally, I told them my story.
How knitting helped me recover from depression. How it completely changed my life. About Dr Thomas and the mindfulness-based stress reduction he uses in some of his clinics.
And about knititation.
How a stitch can become a breath, the next a feeling. How paying attention to my knitting reminds me to pay attention to my thoughts, feelings and emotions.
Because I know what it feels like to unravel.
They listened so closely. They asked thoughtful questions. They began sharing ideas.
And once I got going, there was no stopping me.
The nerves disappeared. The hands started moving. I was practically on stage. They’d invited a small business owner to a meeting and accidentally booked the full James McIntosh experience.
I hope it counts towards their degree.
We now have a plan and eight weeks to work together. I’m away on holiday for one of those weeks, so their first practical business lesson is already underway: your client is very enthusiastic and has limited availability.
I came away buzzing. I’ll keep you posted as the project develops.
A jumper with room for dinner
The Doctor and I are keeping busy, and life is good. Dinner with friends, an evening out, plenty happening.
The winter social season seems to have declared itself open, despite it still being autumn and about 13 degrees.
I’m beginning to think the seasonal wardrobe requires a warm jumper with room for dinner.
For now, I have four brilliant students helping me think about the future, lovely wool to share with you and the next council newsletter to look forward to.
At this rate, there could be a doctorate between the road closures and the Christmas parking arrangements.
