10 years ago if you told me that I’d give up the high life of being a TV presenter, being fetched and carried in chauffeur driven cars, sent bouquets of flowers for just doing my job, and earning great money for meeting people to have a chat, in exchange for what? Sleepless nights, three years of unpaid work tackling the unsavoury topic of women’s leaky problems, I’d have laughed until it ran down my leg.
But here I am, an unlikely warrior for ‘women of a certain age’ finding myself genuinely loving the challenge despite all of the above. As a 54 year old mother of three today, I found myself five years ago realising that the increasingly flaky world of TV demanded that I either:
1. Eat kangaroo penis
2. Beg an adolescent producer for my job every few weeks
3. Create a fictitious private life, far more newsworthy than it really is
Falling out of night clubs was never my thing, I don’t even have ‘celebrity friends’ (well, not ones that I socialise with anyway) and I just couldn’t become a ‘lady that lunches’ worrying about my handbag not being the latest design, or who said what to whom. I was definitely none of these, and I needed a challenge to wake up those little grey cells. 25 years on TV has been great, but the world has changed, and I needed to change with it.
The lightbulb moment came in Portugal on holiday in the summer of 2011. Annabel Croft and I often bumped into each other there. With children of the same age, life is easier when you team up with other families in the same boat, right?
On a rare occasion, we went shopping (without the kids) together, and she noticed me popping a multipack of cheap throwaway knickers in the bag. “What do you want those for?” she asked. I explained they were useful as period pants for my daughters who worried about accidents at school and on sleepovers.
Her eyes were wide with amazement, as she went on to tell me of an idea she’d had for over a decade but never shared. At 15 years old, Annabel had left home to pursue a life on the international tennis circuit, staying with host families around the world. She’d always suffered with heavy periods, and been mortified having to apologise when she’d marked the bed sheets. And, to ramp up the fear factor, play tennis all day in a short white skirt. Her mother gave her what she described as “a shower cap with legs.”
Yup, you can imagine? Sweaty, scratchy plastic pants that, none the less, did the job. 35 years later, not much had changed. In a world where we buy knickers to make us thin for a night, wear sports bras, gel filled bras, gel filled butt enhancers for God’s sake, how has the world managed to overlook the bleeding obvious?
That was my cue to move. How hard could it be? No need to re-invent the wheel, so we picked the best selling knicker shape on the high street (bikini btw) and added a secret super soft waterproof panel between two layers that is virtually undetectable. As long as they look and feel like normal pretty pants, and have no ‘rustle’ or bulk, women will be happy to wear them (Bridget Jones need not apply). Worn together with your normal protection, they become the perfect back up. How many times have we sat at a meeting and daren’t get up, for fear of the gasps of horror as we advertise our monthly mark all over our clothes/upholstery/bedding? (delete as appropriate)
So we set up a website, www.diarydoll.com (from the idea that girls write their cycle dates in their diary) I drew an image of what we wanted, sent it to a factory in China, wired the money and hey presto, we were off and running!
Five years later, three manufacturers later and a whole load of sleepless nights later, my hairdresser has made a small fortune out of covering my greys. We’ve sunk our own savings into this baby and I am battle scarred from dealing with the press and their draconian attitudes. They’re not the only ones either. We’ve put men on the moon, (chatting to them like they’re next door) but we’re still terribly British when it comes to matters of the lady garden!
1 in 4 women suffer with heavy periods, that’s bad enough, but 1 in 3 women who’ve had children wet themselves. FACT. There. I’ve said it. Pretty shocking huh? I can only imagine that the reason what we’re doing has never been done before is because most businesses are still run by men. Which makes me a bona fide warrior – hurrah!
The good news is that high street giant Boots, and Boots.com also understand what we’re trying to do. Not only have they got behind it, they told me that light stress incontinence (AKA running, jumping, coughing or sneezing) is their fastest growing market.
Don’t imagine for one minute ladies, that this is the same thing as incontinence, it isn’t. Suffering from stress incontinence doesn’t mean you’re surrounded by cats, with one foot in the care home and smell faintly of wee. Stress incontinence can happen anytime, from as young as 30. So don’t laugh too hard, you may regret it!
What have I learned through all of this?
1. I am a tough cookie
2. Women are amazing (already knew that, actually)
3. It’s never too late to change
Who’s laughing now?!
You can find out more about DiaryDoll here, or follow them on Twitter @DiaryDoll
