My Fight to the Top

by Michelle Mone

  Material things don’t make you happy. A big house and a fleet of cars are not going to change your life. I had a grand house in the most expensive postcode in Scotland but I was at my most unhappy. The fighting with Michael was at its worst. I was covering up the issues because I had kids with Michael and I had a business with him. I was also proud – it would have been embarrassing if it had got out in the press and if my friends knew what was really going on. So I pretended that I had a perfect life instead. I felt so lonely and trapped.

  I think my stress and unhappiness also manifested itself in my OCD. I had been obsessive about cleaning since I was a wee girl when I used to tidy up my mum’s tiny kitchen. In our previous house, in Newton Mearns, I used to make the nanny follow all of my rituals. Every Friday, she would have to make sure the kids’ rooms were spotless. I gave her rules such as ensuring we all had our own ironing baskets. She and the kids all knew that they couldn’t put a pine hanger in a walnut wardrobe. But things started to get a bit out of control in our new mansion. I installed four dishwashers because I couldn’t bear the sight of dirty plates.

  I remember I’d been away for a couple of nights on business and I came home to find the salt grinder had been left out in the kitchen. Panic. It made me feel so uncomfortable that I needed to check if anything else was out of place. I opened the cupboards one by one, checking they were tidy and that the labels were facing the correct way. Relief. I felt in control again.

  I then went from room to room checking that everything was in order. I had to make sure each pillow was plumped up. I had to check that my wardrobe was organised. I needed to see that all my bras were lined up. Only then would I be able to sleep peacefully. I did it with my kids as well. I’d go into Declan’s room and say: ‘You do realise the pillow zips are up the wrong way?’ And when he was not around, I’d fix it all. Tidying made me feel calm. I couldn’t control what was going on around me but I could have control over my wardrobe, and the other small things. I cannot function if I have a messy wardrobe. I often say to people: ‘Organise your drawers before you face the world.’

  I had lost the plot a bit, but thank god for my mum and dad helping me to spot it. Mum turned up at my house one morning. ‘Are you coming in?’ I asked, holding the door open for her. My mum peered in and stared down the hallway. Mum and Dad hated coming to my house. My mum is like a white witch. She reads tea leaves, just like my Gran, and she never felt comfortable in my house.

  ‘It’s like a show home,’ she shivered. The house was perfect. But she was right. Apart from the kids being there, the house was soulless. It wasn’t a happy home. I went back to hers, sat down on the couch, and I finally broke down in front of my mum and dad.

  ‘I’ve got five cars, I’ve got a massive house. Why am I not happy?’ I sobbed.

  ‘Michelle, you are losing sight of who you are. You have always been an exceptionally giving, generous, loving and caring person. What’s happened to you?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I sniffed, wiping the tears from my eyes. I felt like a lost little girl.

  ‘Michelle, you’ve got to remember where you are from, where you were brought up,’ Mum went on. ‘Only then will you find yourself again.’ She was right; I’d lost my identity. ‘Your barriers are up, Michelle. You are not letting anyone in.’

  I’d toughened up because of all the fighting with Michael. I wouldn’t let anyone in. I wouldn’t show any emotions. I was in defence mode, constantly. ‘All the things you have look like they’ve come out of a movie. Why are you not happy with it?’ Mum asked.

  ‘I’m not happy in my marriage. I don’t know what is going wrong. And I don’t know how to fix it.’ I broke down. Of course, Mum and Dad had known for many many years how bad things were but saying it out loud brought a sense of relief. It broke down a barrier. My nurturing side came out after that. All I cared about was my mum and dad and my kids.

  I do believe every day is a school day and, believe it or not, I actually appreciate going through everything I did because I know I’ll never do it again. I don’t need material things to make me happy. I have also realised my kids don’t need the fancy things. They just need my time. Your heart costs nothing. And that’s why I thought it was time to write this book – because I’ve learnt all this.

  I started to do a lot more with my kids. I’d cancel going into work if they were ill. I became more relaxed around them – before I was often very tense because I had half my brain worried about business issues. I learnt to leave the company problems at the door.

  I decided to confront some underlying issues with Declan – head on. Declan was really struggling at school. He needed help to become more focused on his learning and education. We sat down as a family and discussed whether he would benefit starting his secondary education at a boarding school.

  ‘There will be fewer people in a class so you will get more attention and there are teachers who will be on hand to help you with your homework at night,’ I reasoned. Michael agreed it was for the best and Declan said he would give it a go. I think he wanted help as much as we wanted it for him.

  We sent him away to Gordonstoun, way up past Inverness. It was where Prince Charles went to school. We chose it because it was in Scotland and I thought it would be easy to drive to. I always used to say that I didn’t understand people who had children and then sent them away to boarding school. Now I was doing it myself. But I was doing it because he needed it.

  ‘Why didn’t you just give up work and look after him?’ some of my friends said to me. I didn’t know how to educate Declan because I was no good at that sort of thing. I left school at 15 with no qualifications. I wanted the best for my boy and my kids’ well-being came first.

  We took him up to school for his first term and, when the moment to say goodbye finally arrived, I think I was a lot more anxious than I thought I’d be. Yes, okay, I’d spent many nights away from my kids on business but we had never been apart for longer than a week. I was going to be separated from my boy for weeks at a time. My mothering instinct kicked in. Declan was given a dorm room and I panicked. ‘This is too small for him,’ I turned to Michael. ‘It’s not laid out properly. I’m not comfortable with him being in this room,’ I fussed.

  ‘Muuuum,’ Declan pleaded.

  ‘No, Declan, just listen to your mother,’ I pushed.

  I had him moved to another dorm but I had a few more adjustments still to make.

  ‘Right, Declan, stay out. I’m going to put up your posters, I’m going to sort out your desk,’ I insisted. Declan rolled his eyes but both he and Michael knew me too well and let me get on with organising. I sorted all his pencils out, I hung up all of his posters and I made his bed. I brought Declan back in and told him what was what.

  ‘That is where your socks go,’ I said. ‘That is where your boxer shorts go. These are the hangers you use for those shirts.’

  ‘Right, okay, Mum,’ he said. He was used to it.

  ‘And that’s your bag for your dirty laundry and these are where your towels go and dirty ones, you hang them up over there,’ I pointed to the hooks. I kind of trained him up, there in the room. I couldn’t leave until I knew that he got it.

  ‘Socks go in there, towels go up there,’ he recited.

  ‘And you can call me any time,’ I fussed.

  ‘Yeeeees, Mum,’ Declan said and fell back on his bed.

  It broke my heart when we left. I am so close to my kids and it was times like that when I realised quite how much I loved them and how I needed them as much as they needed me. I felt like it was another emotional journey and I bit my lip to stop myself crying in the car. I hated being away from Declan. I hated not being able to kiss him goodnight. So much so that I would drive the six-hour round trip every week so I could see him.

  The housemaster eventually told me I had to stop. ‘You need to leave him alone to settle in,’ he said.

  I was now the one being told off! I had also been phoning him three times a day and I
was told to stop that as well. I suppose I was just really lonely without all my children around me. But I didn’t want my feelings to affect Declan, so I did what I was told. But I’ve never been ambitious for my children. I’ve never been that pushy mum. I want my kids to decide for themselves what will make them happy. I really don’t mind what they do with their lives as long as they are happy.

  19

  OBE

  When you choose to forgive those who have hurt you, you take away their power.

  ‘Do you want to come and watch this show I’m starring in tonight?’ Mel B from the Spice Girls asked. When I found out it was a naked peep show with her on stage alongside a bunch of other naked girls, I thought Jesus Christ! I’m not going to that thing, no way.

  ‘No, thanks, I’m all right,’ I declined. I’m actually quite prudish when it comes to those sorts of things. I don’t like getting undressed in front of people. When I was growing up, if anyone was kissing on the TV, my dad would shout: ‘Get that off’ to my mum.

  Mel B was our first black model when we signed her in 2008. My brand is for all types of women and I wanted to show we were not just for blondes. I also go for people with personality and she had bags of that. We got her when we were shooting our autumn/winter 2009 brochure in Las Vegas in the USA. It wasn’t a straightforward set-up. I got wound up because we couldn’t get a licence to shoot outside. We couldn’t shoot in the famous Bellagio hotel either and then we could shoot in the Bellagio and then Mel B turned up all hyped from the evening before.

  She told me all about the beautiful women she had been dancing with. I think she lived up to her Spice Girl name of Scary Spice at that point. She did scare me a wee bit because she was just going on about the show a little too much.

  It was a stressful start but it actually turned out to be amazing with the pictures we got in the nightclub. Mel B is a true professional and one of my hardest-working models. Some models say they have had enough after six underwear changes but Mel got up to something like 40 changes – she was a grafter and so down to earth. You would think that for someone who used to be in the Spice Girls, one of the biggest girl bands in the world, she would be a diva, but she so wasn’t. She put the hours in, she worked hard on her body too and she looked incredible in a red satin corset and thong. We finished and celebrated our hard work by going for some drinks and watching the famous fountain and firework show.

  ‘Can I have a double vodka, please?’ I asked the waiter. I’d been so stressed – I needed a release. ‘Thank god for that,’ I said, raising my glass. I knocked them back, one after the other. Shot after shot after shot. What I didn’t realise was that the vodka shots in Vegas were double what they were in the UK. I didn’t drink at the best of times, let alone double measures. I’d been drinking close to four shots per glass!

  After hardly any time, the view of the fountains started to spin. My eyes rolled into my head. I felt like I was going to pass out. I turned to Michael for help because we had to walk through miles of hotel before we got to our room. The Bellagio was massive and full of betting tables and fruit machines. It felt like it went on for miles.

  ‘Michael, please take me to my room,’ I slurred.

  He looked at me and shook his head. ‘I’m not walking all the way back, go yourself,’ he said.

  My head was spinning at a hundred miles an hour now. ‘Please, please take me,’ I begged. I wasn’t used to feeling drunk. ‘I can’t go on my own. I feel as if I’m going to collapse.’

  Michael got really cross. ‘You’re nothing but a pain in the arse,’ he grumbled, as he hooked his arm through mine.

  I was bouncing off the fruit machines like a pinball as Michael walked me to our room. ‘Please stay with me,’ I begged Michael as he plonked me on the bed. I was so scared because I hadn’t ever been that drunk before. What’s happened to me? Has my drink been spiked? Of course, it was just the bloody vodka and the fact that I’d been necking quadruple shots of it, but I didn’t realise that at the time.

  ‘You are not ruining my night. Just get into bed,’ he moaned.

  ‘Please, I don’t want to be on my own, please help me,’ I whimpered.

  ‘Just throw up and go to your bed,’ he said.

  Michael left me to it, and I stumbled into the bathroom to see if I could make myself sick. But I couldn’t throw up so I fell back instead.

  I remember lying like a starfish on the warm tiles of the bathroom. The room was spinning. I started to feel even worse. So what did I do? I decided to run a bath. I thought a cool dip would help me. I tried to make myself sick again but I couldn’t throw up. I couldn’t get it to come up. I slithered into the bath and I don’t remember what happened next but I must have sunk like a block of lead.

  I woke up under the water, choking. I tried to pull myself out but my hands slipped. Splash. I slipped back under. ‘Help,’ I spluttered. I kept sinking under the water. I was choking and coughing. I thought I was going to die. I finally managed to get a grip on the handles and pulled myself so I was half hanging over the side. It was a frightening experience. I almost drowned in the bath.

  I was still drunk but my heart was racing. I felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I clambered out and crawled to the toilet where I was finally sick.

  I felt my way to my mobile and called Michael. ‘I’ve almost drowned in the bath. Please come and get me,’ I cried.

  ‘I’ll get you when I’m ready to come back,’ he said. I fell asleep on the tiles in the bathroom after that and woke up with a whopping hangover.

  I appeared on the Ultimo brochures for 2009 with Mel B. I had lost five stone in total and I was looking and feeling good. That year was also memorable because we launched our first range for younger girls, Miss Ultimo. It was to be funky, edgy, trendy and completely different to the look of Ultimo. It was a new brand with a completely new DNA that would not compete with Ultimo. I’ve always made sure that all the brands I’ve invented don’t compete with one another, be they Ultimo, Miss Ultimo, Ultimo swimwear, Ultimo shapewear, Michelle for George, Bra Queen Michelle, Michelle Innovations for Dunnes stores or Adore Moi for Debenhams.

  Miss Ultimo was aimed at 14- to 18-year-olds and I wanted someone cool to launch and be the face of the new line. Peaches Geldof immediately popped into my head. Peaches had a lot of tattoos, including a daisy chain that ran from her knee to her chest. Personally, I don’t agree with tattoos. I don’t have one myself but I still thought that she was the coolest young girl about town. She was always being photographed out and about in London and I think a lot of girls her age liked her style. I wanted her for my brand.

  I met Peaches at her manager’s office in London and I was completely blown away by her. She was a writer for a New York magazine and she was so intelligent. The conversations we used to have together were nothing like those I’d had with my other models – Peaches loved debating. She was quite something and very mature for her age, being only 20 at the time. We got on exceptionally well. Peaches respected where I’d come from and how I’d built my business up from nothing and I respected that she wasn’t just a daft little lassie. She was different from all the other teenagers I knew.

  Her vulnerability came through on our first shoot. She clung on to her hair and make-up team, constantly asking for reassurance. ‘Are you sure I should wear it like that?’ she asked repeatedly. But I think anyone that age is vulnerable. I felt vulnerable at 20. You don’t really know who you are yet.

  We did the shoot in a bowling alley to complement the edgy, fun look we were going for. She was very nervous to start with, not surprisingly as it was her first lingerie shoot. After the first hour behind the camera she relaxed. We signed her for a year, with an option to extend, and we launched Miss Ultimo in May 2009. It was a very successful campaign – the brand was hot. Peaches’ pictures appeared in trendy magazines that Ultimo would never get into.

  I had something to celebrate myself not long after that. It was autumn 2009 and my PA got a call from Bu
ckingham Palace. She came running across the office at rocket speed to speak to me. ‘What is it?’ I said, concerned.

  ‘There’s a woman from Buckingham Palace on the phone about an OBE for you,’ she panted, out of breath. ‘They say they’ve given it to you, but apparently you don’t want it,’ she went on.

  ‘What?’ She had my attention now. ‘Shut the fuck up!’ I spluttered. I burst out laughing. ‘They are having a laugh, this is a radio show doing a wind-up.’ I dismissed the call. ‘Look, there is no way I’ve got an OBE. Go tell the woman that we’ll phone her back because we don’t believe it’s true.’

  I got back to work while my PA passed on my message. A few minutes later, she was back with the phone number for Buckingham Palace. ‘Okay, I’ll ring it,’ I sighed. Curiosity got the better of me. It bloody well was Buckingham Palace and I had been awarded an OBE. I nearly dropped the phone in shock. ‘We assumed you didn’t want to accept your OBE as we hadn’t heard anything back,’ said the very well-spoken lady. Apparently, they sent the invitation to my old house.

  ‘I haven’t been living at that address for several years,’ I explained. ‘I… I… I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Well, do you want to accept it?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, my god, of course I want to accept it,’ I screamed. It was a dream come true.

  ‘Thanks so much, tell the Queen I’m over the moon,’ I said.

  I had to keep the award a secret until it was announced in the 2010 New Year’s Honours list. You can imagine it was really hard. I told my family straight away. ‘What, say that again?’ Mum and Dad said when I broke the news. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Their daughter had been awarded one of the highest honours in the UK. ‘Oh, my god, who would have ever thought?’ Mum squealed.

  I was over the moon. It was amazing they gave it to me but there were many other people who had helped me. My family and all my team at Ultimo had worked so hard. Above all, it was proof that it is possible to achieve your dreams no matter where you are from. I wanted my OBE to be an inspiration for kids growing up. If I can do it, they can do it too.