Going to a top university in central London was the dream. Coming from Leicester, I thought I was going to make it as this high-flying, inner-city London “connected person”. I imagined I would meet interesting people, make connections and somehow become part of this world that felt bigger and more exciting than the one I had grown up in.
But it was very far from the reality.
Instead of integrating easily, I felt like I had no connection with the other students. I had never really interacted with people from these worlds before. Some had been to private school, they had accents I had never encountered, and there were all these little social things that seemed completely normal to them but were totally unfamiliar to me. I literally had no idea that I would feel so much of an outsider.
The strange thing was, I didn't feel particularly inexperienced or sheltered. I was from Leicester, but I'd already grown up in a lot of ways. We'd been to festivals, we'd been to Ibiza, I'd had my own experiences and had already started to form my own idea of the world. I just didn't feel like I belonged in theirs.
I started working in a cocktail bar in Camden three or four nights a week. I actually found myself enjoying that much more. I was talking to locals, meeting different people and feeling more connected to the world around me. Of course, this wasn't exactly helping my studies. I was trying to manage the course while working to pay for a very expensive life in central London. I wasn't living lavishly; I was just trying to make it work.
I think, looking back, I couldn't fully commit to the course because I felt so alien there. I had already convinced myself that this wasn't my world. These people seemed to come from success and were going to go on to do great things. I couldn't really see myself as one of them, so why would I?
Unsurprisingly, I dropped out after a year. I went travelling and tried again. It still didn't really work.
Then I went to Manchester, and my life changed in a million ways.
I found my people.
I eventually graduated with a very average degree from Salford University, but I was comfortable and I was happy. I was surrounded by people who came from ordinary lives, people I could actually relate to, and we made some of the most unforgettable memories together. Mainly learning how to party properly, if I'm honest.
But I think what I really found in Manchester was a sense of belonging. I stopped feeling like I had to prove that I belonged somewhere. I wasn't comparing myself to people who seemed to have a completely different starting point. I could just be myself.
It's funny because I think about that quite a lot now, particularly when it comes to fashion and jewellery. We're constantly surrounded by ideas about what we're supposed to look like and what we're supposed to be. There are trends, beauty standards and all these subtle rules about what is considered stylish, feminine, flattering or appropriate.
I've never really been that interested in following them too closely.
Maybe because I've spent quite a lot of my life learning that there isn't one right way to do things.
That's probably part of what I love about jewellery too. A huge pair of hoops one day, a delicate necklace the next. A stack of bangles, a strange statement piece, something completely unexpected. You don't have to commit to one particular version of yourself.
And that's something I wanted Kaali Boutique to reflect. Not one particular type of woman or one definition of beauty, but the idea that your style can be completely your own. You can be feminine and alternative, understated one day and covered in jewellery the next. You can change your mind.
I suppose I've always been more interested in people who find their own way rather than people who perfectly fit the mould.
Maybe that's because I spent quite a long time trying to fit into one myself.
And eventually, I realised I was much happier when I stopped trying.
