I work full time with my husband – I know all his weaknesses so I can be brutal

Telegraph

3 days ago

Pip Dawes could never get away with pulling a sickie from work or slipping off early. Her husband, Ben is the CEO. The couple, who have been married for more than a decade, co-founded a wine business, rendering them colleagues as well as co-parents to their two small children. 'It can make your relationship very difficult at times; especially when we have big decisions to make,' she says. He annoys her; he finds her disruptive. So how have they not killed each other?
'Sometimes I schedule a meeting with him to get him to take my point seriously'
Pip Dawes
While my friends have to schedule time to see their husbands, I have the opposite problem – I can't escape him. My husband, Ben Dawes (Dawesey), is bringing up two children together as well as running our fine wine business, Marlo. We've known each other since school, and got together in our 20s, when I'd left university and he'd set up a wine company. I was impressed that he'd been so entrepreneurial and was already working for himself. I never planned for him to be my boss, but once we had children, financially and in terms of flexibility, it made more sense to combine forces.
I was first drafted in as a debt collector at Richard Dawes Fine Wine, his original company, which wasn't my area of expertise – I'd been working for a wedding presents company, a job I adored. I found it daunting, stepping away from the independence of my own job into the wine world, which is still very male-dominated, but as we both had parents who ran their own companies, we at least knew what we were letting ourselves into. Much to our amusement, when customers saw the words 'Mrs Dawes' at the bottom of an email, they'd pay their bill immediately.
In the office, though, I felt inferior. My husband has an encyclopaedic knowledge of wine, but tell me a name and I'll forget it immediately. I booked myself onto a course as I didn't like the way the boys – Dawesey included – would look at me as if I was talking nonsense. I learnt some facts, but over time I've realised that the most important thing with wine is to know what you like. These days, when Dawsey writes rambling tasting notes on social media, I'll say 'no one really cares about all that – they just want to know what to eat with it'.
Just before lockdown, we launched Marlo together, a new business delivering fine wine by the bottle. It's given me my own place within the wine industry: he handles sales, trading on the phone until late into the evening, while I'm in charge of the creative side of the business. We had some hilarious arguments initially about the branding. For him, it's all about functionality, while I like pretty colours and fonts. Thankfully, he gave me a bit of leeway, and we ended up finding a new customer base. It turns out a lot of women shop for wine, and they like the way that our site is less blokey.
Dawesey would say I'm quite disruptive, always coming out with ideas, when he wants to get on. He's a head-down-don't-talk kind of worker, while I desperately try to speak to everyone all the time. There have been times when I've had to schedule a meeting with him to get him to take my point seriously. I don't just want to talk about family logistics and what we're having for supper. For those types of conversation, I'll suggest we walk to M&S at lunchtime, so as not to bore the boys in the office.
When Dawesey goes away on a tasting or wine tour, I have to pick up all the pieces both at home and in the office, which can seem a bit unfair. We've never had a full-on screaming match in the office, but everyone knows when there's family drama going on. It's taken us years to learn to be good colleagues to each other. We've both taken it further than we should. Dawesey is a real eye roller. When I get on my bandwagon about something, he'll roll his eyes, which only makes me worse. Meanwhile, I know all his weaknesses, so I can be brutal. When it gets heated between us in the office, we'll take it to WhatsApp, and then there might even be a surreptitious finger gesture. We've got better at pulling back, though. We know we're both on the same side.
We've also learnt that when you're working and living together, you need to put extra effort into creating a third area of your life away from it all. I now go for a run with a friend at 5:45am every day to vent. Both of us remember times of high stress in our parents' businesses really impacting us as kids, so we do try not to bring office anxiety home. With a family business, if things go south, who will pay the mortgage?
The business is thriving, though, so much so that we're expanding. Running your own company is stressful 80 per cent of the time, but there are huge perks: the flexibility for a start, and the sense of pride you get when it works out. Plus, I can never get fired – Dawesey likes to point out that in any other job, I'd have been sacked for constantly forgetting my computer password.
I'd say that Marlo has strengthened our marriage. I get to see my husband at his best, doing what he loves, which is very attractive; meanwhile, warring with him at work has taught me how to step away from arguments at home. We've both grown up a lot.
I know we probably shouldn't, but we talk about work all the time. The great thing about running a business together is that if we want to try something new, we don't have to consult anyone else. We've brainstormed some of our best new strategies on the beach on holiday. Dawesey loves working for himself, and I love throwing ideas around and watching them get put into play. Lying next to the CEO in bed each night is massively beneficial for career development!
'I sometimes give a roll of the eye and get a glare back'
Ben Dawes
I worried about Pip joining the company as we'd never worked together, and my office was a very quiet, concise environment. I feared my male-dominated client base would not welcome her fun and bubbly personality. She quickly proved, however, that she was able to do a job I was struggling with – debt collection. It also worked for the family, as she could scoot in late after nursery drop-off.
I say late, but I'm a bit of a stickler about timing. If she's not in by 9:15am, questions will be asked. When I watch her pull up, 15 minutes late, having a chinwag with her sister on the phone, I have to remind myself that flexibility is a good thing for our family. It's great to have a female voice in our business. I don't want to be one of those corduroy-style wine merchants from the 1960s.
Pip constantly proves me wrong. When we launched Marlo, she was keen to push the wrapping and packaging, and I worried that a banker from JP Morgan wouldn't be bothered with all the tissue paper and a free Tony's chocolate bar. Plus, wrapping takes time. I still don't think the bankers care for it, but our female demographic appreciates that we've taken customer service to the next level and have made fine wine so much more accessible as a gift.
Her blue sky thinking and my conservative, practical manner seem to be a good combination when it comes to social media, too. I was concerned about whether, given her lack of knowledge about the product, she should be editing my posts. There might be a selling issue. Yet she comes at it with a marketing mind. She's made the effort to get to a certain level of knowledge, but is insistent that we move away from long tasting notes.
Pip is like a dog with a bone once she's got an idea in her head; she won't let go. Tuesday morning, she'll wander in with a bright idea, pitch it without a word of hello, and continue to pitch it over the morning, while the rest of us are trying to get on with the job of buying and selling wine. I sometimes give a glare or roll of the eye and get a glare back, then the conversation swiftly moves to emails and WhatsApps.
I quite enjoy it. It's slightly weird to say, but I enjoy the banter. It's never malicious. It's a couple bickering, professionally. It'll all be cleared up on the walk to M&S over lunch or over a glass of wine in the evening. The nature of running your own business is that it never stops; it's all-encompassing. I'm glad that Pip calls me out for being on the phone with international clients too much during the kids' bedtime. She's the voice of reason; children come first at this point.
We drink a lot of wine together. I'm selling it, so I've got to try it, and it's good for Pip to know about it if we're sending out an offer. She'd argue there's not enough rosé and champagne coming home, but over a weekend, we'll open a few bottles. We don't finish them, I must add. We do try to remain healthy and make a point of not drinking Monday to Wednesday unless we've got a specific function. In the wine business, you can very quickly fall into bad habits.
Pip has always given me a good leash when it comes to going to tastings and wine trips. Professionally, I felt I needed to be around. I've calmed down, though. It seemed a bit harsh, once we had children and started working together: she had to cover everything. I remember going on a week-long business class trip to Argentina and Chile a few years ago and not being as understanding as I should've been. I think my social media posts made her a bit envious. Now I say 'no' a lot more now and try to stick to the tastings that really matter to the business.
I never want the children to hear when a deal hasn't worked out. Times can be tough in the wine trade, just as with any business, and of course, stress and anxiety play out. I'm currently trying to master padel to give myself something else to think about. It's great to hang out with friends; I'm a bit of a bore in that I love work and being with my family.
One of the great attractions of Pip that had me chasing her around to begin with is that she lights up a room. She's my best mate and I feel incredibly proud that we can hang out together on 24/7 basis – even though she's probably keen to see less of me...