On January 21st 2020 I received an unknown phone call and voicemail from Dragons Den. I'd been chosen to audition for series 18 after applying (coincidentally) on February 21st 2019. Apparently it's totally OK to keep someone waiting for an entire year.
I couldn't remember my application form and so could barely answer the questions. Who's ever on standby to reel off their revenue, profit, cost price, units sold per year - including the most popular flavour ranked from best to worst - and value of business? Safe to say I winged it.
Given this was on January 21st, the follow-up email stated that my audition was scheduled for 2pm on February 3rd. They got 11 months to prepare for a phone call and I got less than two weeks - 13 days to be precise - to prepare a pitch to investors and potentially be on TV. More specifically, a 2-3 minute pitch, as if I were actually in the Den itself, pre-interview questionnaire and current up-to-date business plan. I mean, thinking about who it impacts the most and who could've done with more time, I'll let you decide. On top of this, I had to sign an NDA form and not tell anyone about my audition in case it jeopardised my position. I felt like I was applying to MI5 (or was I?).
In a mixture of excitement, anticipation, surrealism, terror and predominantly overwhelm (the list goes on), I did nothing but focus on financial history to ensure I could answer all questions fired at me. Profit in percentage of x product sales between January 2018 and December 2018 - you got it. Regardless of having previously worked with two different mentors on two different occasions to write a business plan; typically, I didn't have one, which made the audition prep ever more looming.
By February 2nd I had done as much as I could and felt fairly confident. I just wanted to enjoy the experience. Ali, the production researcher, and her co-researcher, was lovely. There was no pressure to nail the pitch first-time around - we even used the whiteboard behind the camera as a bullet point script to help prompt me and cover what the producers wanted to hear: Why I started the business; awards; stockists; USPs; prices and future plans. It took 8 recordings in total - the final one sent on for the verdict. (It definitely ended with me enthusiastically grinning and asking, "who wouldn't want a baby jar, almost too cute to eat?").
If I thought that prepping for the audition was overwhelming, due diligence was something else entirely. After the audition, on Friday February 7th, my application progressed to the next stage - what they referred to as providing a 'grid' of information was in fact 68 separate documents to prove that everything (yes, everything) I had mentioned, even whispered, even said off-camera to (try and) be witty, was true. They also felt the need to emphasise that "this does not guarantee you a place in The Den at this stage." A real motivator.
I remember crying, a few times - the overwhelm was hideous and I literally had no idea where to start. Cost price? As an average or per flavour? But then I need to find out exact delivery costs to factor into the manufacturing cost. Or do I start with Ocado sales and work out that revenue channel first? My head was lost to a giant to-do list that couldn't be delegated to anyone else.
Throughout this unprecedented situation, my mental health took the grunt of my feelings. Pressure to be 'good enough', get my facts 'right' and prove both my brand's and own worthiness. Unfortunately, not yet being in recovery from my eating disorder, I worked myself (quite literally) to the bone. One morning I did an exercise class, came home, felt so much tightness in my chest about what to do - I didn't eat and went straight out for a coffee to keep working on due diligence. I only ate that evening once I had been productive and tricked myself into feeling 'better'.
Reminiscing over photos of audition day makes me sad; how I look reminds me of how I chose to treat my body. Memories of the experience are clouded by the eating disorder. A shame, really.
And then Covid hit.
On February 25th, Ali gave me the thumbs up; my due diligence was complete, "for now". The next and final step was for the producers to look at the applicants who made it thus far and choose the final candidates - ensuring there were no duplicate businesses pitching to the dragons. To me, what seemed like a quick and easy task.
Instead, production was postponed and my application was frozen in limbo. I was passed on to a Jennifer, Frank, Sue - and after the nth time of chasing, I stayed in this position, repeating answers to the same questions they asked ("how has Covid been for business? Fine. So you have a new stockist - Borough? No, I've worked with them since 2018"). It got to a point where I genuinely didn't care if I got through or not - not knowing was worse than an answer.
Finally, on November 2nd, and then again on November 16th (just to rub salt into the wound, as if once wasn't enough), both Sue and Jennifer - Frank's is probably still to come - sent the "unsuccessful, thanks for applying", etc email. I expected it, even felt relieved for receiving an answer, but was also disheartened. Quite frankly, I was disappointed at where our relationship ended up. Perhaps I was naive to think they really cared. I would be lying if I said I wasn't expecting more consideration, respect or acknowledgement for the amount of work I did for them.
Then again, not only did I finally gain a business plan out of the process but above that, the biggest learning was that it was all my choice. As with any job you feel passionate about, they could have demanded anything of me and I would've sufficed and shown up regardless. Whereas for them, there was no collateral. I was merely another business churning the wheels of their show. A show that allows them to give little back because the opportunity (mentor, money, PR) means a lot more to the applicants. So I chose to put 150% effort in knowing full well the repercussions if I weren't to get through. I cared that much about what this exposure could do for business.
So I thanked them, mentioned that it was one of the longest application forms I have ever completed and which pushed me outside of my comfort zone (understatement). I asked (again) for my pitch video - the least they could do - to which they said no. Ten months on and they still have me wrapped around their little finger and are glad to put me back in my place. At least I tried.
*Dragons Den 2022 coming next.
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