Independence day.

About a million years ago, I got my first job
on 4th July. Independence day, perfect.

I had decided that I wanted to do advertising, but found myself 3 months before the end of a graphic design course. Very different disciplines.

My dad had died whilst I had been doing my foundation course, and it turned me from a 'maybe I'll be a painter' kind of girl into a 'fuck me I need to earn money' kind of girl. But graphics bored me to death, I loved commercials, funny, mad and stupid. In this business, you work in teams of 2 on the creative side.
So my best friend on the course and I decided to team up. We started to work on a joint advertising portfolio, abandoning 3 and half years of beautifully crafted graphic design, for roughly drawn ads in black marker on layout paper.

Luckily, a team we knew had managed to bag a job, which had left some two week placements open at some great advertising agencies. S and I leapt into their shoes and started working at the agencies during the day, coming home and working on our portfolio until 3 every night.

Blimey we were tired, but were so fired up. Eventually, we began to get some good crits on our portfolio, so decided to work weekends as well. We just didn't think about anything else, fuck, we must have been boring.

Then S and I were offered a job, out of the blue. The creative director at an agency had seen a number of teams, and liked us best. It was a wonderful moment. I remember being outside the agency after walking out on our wobbly, nervous legs and hugging. And crying. And hugging.

It was rare for agencies to hire all girl teams in those days.
We knew how lucky we were.