I never studied fashion, never worked in fashion, and lacked formal design training or experience.
But from as far back as I can remember, fashion has been intrinsically part of me. As a child and into my teens, I’d beg my mom to sew clothes for me so I wouldn’t have to wear what everyone else was wearing. Thinking about it now, my mom and her very artistic and creative flair definitely had a very profound impact on me, without me even realising it. Isn’t it amazing how our parents and what we grow up surrounded by can shape us and give us talents that we’re not even aware of until we have the maturity to reflect upon them in adulthood? I found great joy in putting on dress-up shows for my parents and their friends, my imagination crafting whimsical wardrobes. When I reached the age of going out, I took on the role of personal stylist to my friends, perfecting their looks with hair and makeup as they’d beg to borrow my bespoke wardrobe designed by me, made by Mom. Unbeknownst to me, my fashion journey had already begun.
Yet, this innate passion was neither nurtured nor fully understood. As I approached the end of my schooling, I decided to pursue a law degree, a path that was a stark mismatch for my creative soul. Realizing in my first year that law wasn't for me, I settled on a BCom Marketing degree—studying something merely because I had to.
My early twenties were a series of job misadventures. The worst was as a sales rep for a cleaning company, which involved site visits to factory toilets—pure torture. Eventually, I found my place at a publishing company, working for their interior magazine. I thrived there and set my sights on eventually working for Elle Magazine. However, life had other plans, and I found out I was pregnant.
My ex-husband and I agreed that I would be a stay-at-home mom, a role I embraced with all my heart. When my firstborn was just 4.5 months old, I became pregnant again. Two babies in just over a year—almost like having twins.
Early in my marriage, red flags began to emerge, the most glaring being the financial control exerted by my ex-husband. This wasn’t just control; it was abuse, a reality that still persists today (a story for another time). I had no access to our bank account, and the credit card I once had was taken away. I was given a meagre weekly allowance to run our household and care for the babies, while he indulged in his lavish, secretive lifestyle—a story worthy of a book. It was a nightmare. I spent countless days crying at my best friend's house, feeling helpless. Then, one day, I decided enough was enough. Crying wouldn’t give me the freedom and independence I yearned for.
For two weeks, I buried myself in research on my laptop. Feeling somewhat confident, I asked my dad for a loan and an air ticket. Leaving my baby was heart-wrenching, but I boarded a plane to China with two empty suitcases and a heart full of determination. I navigated through the chaotic streets of China, often getting lost, but I filled those suitcases with items I was certain would sell. And sell they did—in just one week, I was sold out. I soon found myself making four trips a year to China, bringing back up to 300kg of goods each time. This was the birth of my first “TATUM” baby.
2 comments
Economic abuse is something I had to endure from my narcissistic ex husband shortly after our daughter passed away as an infant. His timing was spot on. Reading this post has triggered the most soul destroying time of my life when I was in a black abyss and could not see a way to claw my way out. I had just buried my baby, I had her twin in NICU, and a toddler to look after – and I was also ‘allowed’ a measly weekly allowance. My credit card had expired and was conveniently not renewed. Doctors visits for my baby was discouraged by him as it ‘wasn’t that bad’ and I had to scrounge for money to take her. Yet we lived in a ‘mansion’ in Saxonwold that I had made a reality with my hard earned money. And when my Chloe died and I could not get out of bed in the morning I was discarded by the narc and ‘punished’ emotionally for no longer bringing home the bacon. I wish I had the drive that you had to get up and ‘make it’ Tate. I just couldn’t claw myself out of the abyss and lived like that (crying to my sisters every single day) for years before I had the courage to leave him. And since then the divorce has been next level! They say you’ve never looked real evil in the eye until you’ve divorced a narcissist. Much love Tate – thank you for sharing x
“Sales job at a cleaning company” made me giggle :) was truly not my best time and definitely not the best job either :/
Lots of Love Tatum and well done.
T :)