“It was a bit like a breakup”, Virginia Chadwyck-Healey, known as Ginnie, says of her decision to quit her dream job at British Vogue. “In the nice way, it was very hard to leave a whole identity, and start afresh on your own with no one to bounce ideas off in your team.” But as anyone who’s survived a breakup knows, great loves aren’t always forever. And sometimes, in order to start the next chapter, you need to finish this one...
Ginnie’s next chapter came in the form of VCH Style, her own brand of styling committed to changing the way we shop, for the better. She’s an advocate for sustainability in fashion - but don’t expect a capsule of plant-dyed linen garments from Ginnie. Instead, she tells clients to think about the long game. Invest in fewer pieces that are better quality, that you’ll pass down, and that you’ll feel good wearing time and time again. What you don’t need? “Eight pairs of white jeans, and 12 pairs of black trousers”.
When I ask Ginnie about her career highlight, her answer surprises me. “I think my column, my Sunday Telegraph column. To have my name - it doesn't say VCH Style, it's my name at the top of the page - and people contacting me to say, ‘I read your column and I loved it or I hated it’, or whatever it is, in a national paper. I didn't see that coming. And that's just through building relationships with people that I genuinely get along with, and they took a chance, and thankfully it's working."
Connection is a major theme of Ginnie’s career. Hers is a testament to the power of the network, and speaking to her, it’s easy to understand how she’s made - and kept - so many friends in her circle. She’s a firm believer in the importance of coffee catch ups, and thank you notes. And her warmth and charm is undeniable. So although she was nervous about stepping out on her own, it’s no surprise that VCH Style has been such a success. “For 12 years I had been Ginnie from Vogue. And I just remember saying to my husband, ‘No one's going to want to work with just Ginnie’”.
As it turns out, ‘just Ginnie’ is exactly who people want. Here, she tells us why less is more - in your wardrobe, and in your worklife.
Was British Vogue your dream job initially?
Yes, it was. I was the girl that I think in my yearbook at school, put "I would like to be working at British Vogue as soon as possible." It was a dream. And it was an amazing launch pad.
I never saw it as a launch pad. In fact, when I was there, I was almost nervous that I found my dream job too early in my career. I worked with people who I considered friends, not colleagues. People who I am in touch with now, still. And people who I asked their children to be my page boys at my wedding. And it was so much more than a job.
What was it that you loved about the work at Vogue?
I loved the fact that I started on the commercial side of the magazine, having initially had the dream to be a features writer or a fashion editor. I was actually based on the publishing side, working for the publishing director, but still really seeing the inner-workings of the magazine. And then slowly, there was much more of a greater need for commercial partnerships, that were more than just a page in a magazine. It was developing what today is the norm. You just create video content or you create a paid partnership.
I was facing the Vogue reader literally, and hearing what made them tick, and understanding what they loved about the magazine and what they didn't. I like talking to people, I like hearing their opinion. I also like to convince them.
You were a magazine fanatic, so how did you get your foot in the door at Vogue?
I worked really hard to expand my CV. This is from the ages of 16, 17 - I wrote personal letters to the editors on paper, I emailed. I really networked. I was lucky to have a contact at American Vogue in Paris, so I got to do work experience there. Just little things that set myself slightly apart, something that would make your head turn if you were looking at my CV.
And then I was doing work experience, my first summer after leaving St. Andrews University, and I was in the Conde Nast building doing work experience at GQ Magazine. At that time, all the jobs were posted on a note board, and they're just boards in the corridors of Conde Nast. If you were in the building, you could see those postings come up. It was right place right time, it really was.
“Unfortunately, if you Google me, you either get that I worked at Vogue, or you get that I had postnatal depression.”
I was really lucky to have a successful interview (at Vogue). I'm still friends with that lady who interviewed me, and we laugh about my interview. But I started a few weeks later. It was great to be there. And actually, what I missed because of the permanent job I was offered, I actually forgoed my work experience in Vogue Editorial. I think it was a fluke. I ended up on a side of magazine that I was really interested in, without realising it. But I obviously couldn't do my Vogue editorial work experience, which would probably have been just packing boxes. I'm okay with that now in hindsight.
Were you very ambitious?
I think if you want something, you can find ways to make it happen. I don't think that's true of absolutely everything. But I made a point, I think, of trying to be myself, but also trying to stand out in the people's minds that were interviewing me, or who were looking after work experience. They see hundreds of people each time, and a lot of people going, "I love fashion, I want to work in fashion." And actually I think common courtesy really helps, and being diligent of course. But yes, I was ambitious, and I didn't have loads of contacts to lean on. It made me have that extra grit I needed.
“If you're not confident in your style, you think, ‘I've got to have a prairie dress, and oh my gosh, I need an oversized collar, and I need the boyfriend jeans.’ And none of these things might even suit you, but it's just that feeling of being bombarded by brands wanting to sell new things”
When did you feel like you had hit your stride at Vogue?
I'm lucky, I'm someone that doesn't mind public speaking, for instance. I would present, twice a year, the Vogue Trend Report to beauty and fashion industry members. It was all my own work, it was really long hours putting it all together, working with the video team and everything. And then I'd stand up on stage and present it. And I remember one time doing it quite early on as the retail editor. And I thought, "God, I know probably 250 people in here are quite important people at the top end of their game, much older than me, some of them, listening to me, to what I've got to say." And it wasn't about the limelight. It was just the fact that I had been given the chance to represent Vogue on stage in front of the editor, in front of the publishing director. And I got a pat on the back afterwards from Alexandra Schulman and it was a great moment, where your work was recognised. Because there's a lot of hidden work that goes on at a place like that, and other people getting the glory, and sometimes it was a bit frustrating.
And then when Edward Enninful joined, I remember him watching and me being really nervous. And again, he came up at the end, and it was just great to be recognised when you're not always in every single meeting, or your name's not on every single page at the magazine. It was hard work that was respected and acknowledged and appreciated. And I think that was a real moment.
I'm definitely someone that needs to be told that I've done an okay job. Not for always seeking glory, but just to know I'm on-track. Maybe it's self-doubt and you just need to see it. That was a real test that came good, I guess, in front of a lot of people that then knew me, and that helped carve out what I do now.
At what point did you feel it was time to leave Vogue?
I can now hand on heart say it was probably after the birth of my second baby. And unfortunately, if you Google me, you either get that I worked at Vogue, or you get that I had postnatal depression. I think there’s quite a lot more to me than that, but anyway! Having that after my second baby Maggie was born, I think was a big kick up the bum to say you need to ensure that whatever you do after this baby works for both you, and whoever you're working for. I really wasn't bringing home the income, it's as simple as that, and I was exhausted. And a lot had changed during my maternity leave, the second time.
And I think after a while you have to value yourself, don’t you? I was like, I don't think I'm going to be able to do this all and earn a decent income, because it all goes on childcare. And I've done my time, and maybe it's just a natural change in life that I need to acknowledge and run with, rather than run from. And that was the catalyst, really, just becoming a mother.
“I remember saying to my husband, ‘No one's going to want to work with just Ginnie, it's just me. I don't have that big brand name.’ And you know what? It was completely opposite.”
When your child's ill, you just felt huge guilt to your employer, and actually it shouldn't be like that. It should just be, this is my main priority - if my child's ill, I have to stay home and look after him or her. And I think I just put a lot of guilt onto myself for things like that, which didn't make it as enjoyable a job as it had been. And I'd be the first in, and then obviously I'd be the first to have to leave the probably important meeting that was still dragging on. You always then became that person. Again, it's that guilt.
And I don't mean that in that British Vogue aren't good for mothers. But I'd been there a long time, I felt one of the older ones which seems ridiculous because I was still probably early thirties. But I think it was also my husband's great comment that he said, "You're bringing home the bags, but you're not bringing home the bacon." And I thought, he's right. And I wish I'd seen it probably a bit sooner.
Was there a sense of fear or feeling that you were leaving something so huge behind?
Yes. For 12 years I had been Ginnie from Vogue. And I just remember saying to my husband, "No one's going to want to work with just Ginnie, it's just me. I don't have that big brand name." And you know what? It was completely opposite. And I think that was the moment where I realised all those little thank you notes I’d written, or checking in when you knew someone was having a wobble, or all those women in business who'd had children at the same time as me and we'd all clung together - even though they were working for the biggest brand in the world, they were real people. And I think it was a moment where if you're good at what you do and you're kind, then people will want to work with you.
Ralph Lauren gave me my first project as just Ginnie, VCH Style. And I will always be grateful to that brand, and the one particular person who made it happen. Because it was great to just have my name alongside theirs, one of the biggest brands in the world. And it just came about through a good cup of coffee, and brainstorming, and it was proof that people will want to work with good people and kind people. That for me was the biggest relief, and a huge boost to my confidence.
“It was just great to be recognised when you're not always in every single meeting, or your name's not on every single page at the magazine. It was hard work that was respected and acknowledged and appreciated.”
Talk to me about having a personal brand. There's no VCH style without you as a person, and you are very much the brand. So what was that transition like?
It's not something I've really thought about, to be honest. I know that sounds strange, but when I reply to an email, I just reply as I normally would. And my style hasn't changed. I love writing, I find it very easy to communicate through an email, or trying to grab someone's attention for a pitch meeting. I know no one reads email for instance, so you just keep it to two lines and hope that you get your point across. In terms of approaching people,nothing changed except that I couldn't put, ‘hi it’s Ginnie from Vogue’. It would be, ‘do you remember working with me when I was at Vogue?’ Which I don't have to do now thankfully because I've maintained all my contacts.
My husband said, "I think you need a PA." And I just thought, if I get a PA, people who email me want Ginnie, they don't want the PA. And that's what I'm struggling with at the moment, being really frank, is just being able to keep up with both the admin and the creation of ideas and the pitches. Because it is all on me. But I'm also, I guess, quite relieved to have that control after years of having to have everything signed off.
Have you found the work-life balance different since founding your own brand?
No. I now understand why people refer to having your own business as having another child, I get that now. I'm not good at stopping, because I don't like knowing that things are building up. I want to tackle everything as quickly as possible. However, I would say the power to say no, or delay your reply until you're ready, it's not always a bad thing. A slower pace is probably more manageable, I just have to enforce it.
The other day I was confident enough or brave enough to ask my editor at the Sunday Telegraph for time off to devote to a book I want to write. And I thought ‘well, this is it. This is make or break. She's either going to drop me from the column, or she'll be okay’. And guess what? She's okay with it. She was just like, ‘See you in September.’ Why did I get myself so worried about that?
I'm also learning to outsource things like design for social media. Slowly I'm relinquishing certain arms of the business to people I draft. But ultimately it's all down to me to still keep the plan going and developing, which is just a bit of discipline. And then switching off, then switching on the children. I'm actually reading Anya Hindmarch's book at the moment, If In Doubt, Wash Your Hair. It's written for someone like me, it's perfect. It's very helpful to see, and to read.
In those early days of VCH Style, did you feel a sense of pressure to prove yourself quickly?
I had a feeling of urgency in terms of contacting people and trying to get a coffee in with the people I knew I'd want to keep on side. I was very lucky in terms of Stella Magazine, which is the weekend supplement of the Sunday Telegraph. I pitched an idea to them, and they liked it. That was almost an initial PR push, I guess, without realising it, telling people what VCH Style was about. That was quite a good stepping stone.
But again, it went back to making a point of reaching out and standing out. I didn't want to take anyone's time that was not interested in what I was doing. But I was still working with the big brands, and I'm still very much in touch with the Louis Vuittons of the world. I think it actually was a reminder about building your personal relationships. Eventually the people you like working with become more than that - they become your Whatsapp contacts, and then there's a quick, "I saw this and thought of you” message. And it slowly builds into a friendship, even if you're not seeing them the whole time. I think that's been really beneficial for me.
And I was very lucky in that a lot of people, private individuals as well, came to me. That was a huge relief, because it meant I could start fulfilling what I wanted to do, which was initially really going into people's wardrobes and helping them sort themselves out. And yet at the same time, it was gaining traction and building my confidence to do bigger things with brands, which is what I'm still working on now.
You launched VCH Style with the statement that ‘we have to learn to shop better’. What was missing from the fashion and style space?
Whenever I was going through women's wardrobes in a session, there was just so much that wasn't being worn, and so many pieces with price tags still on. Eight pairs of white jeans, and 12 pairs of black trousers. And I just thought, no one is shopping sensibly anymore. We've been bombarded by Zara and H&M and the crazy prices there. It was almost a reversal of what I'd been doing at Vogue, which was the new month, new trend, or new season, new catwalk guide. And how to transfer the catwalk into real life. Everyone's just being bombarded with all this newness, there's never actually a sense of what's going to hold its own for years to come, and still make you feel good. You don't need that hint of newness.
Then it became about how you need fewer, but better pieces. And slowly that's made me really reassess fabrics, and work out which brands are actually fitting to what they should be doing, rather than hiding a lot. It's genuinely come from an organic place, to focus more on sustainability, and how if you buy fewer, buy better, you're probably doing better, too. It's really about becoming a place that people can trust, more than anything. Trust to have read the fabric label, trust to ask the questions that they perhaps don't feel comfortable asking as a consumer - even though we should all be asking questions.
And again, I refer to Anya Hindmarch's book. She refers to how everybody talks about ‘brand this’ and ‘brand that’, and actually if you change that word to behaviour, it's a very potent responsibility that you then put on the shoulders of these names - some of the biggest names in the world. A brand should really be about how people behave, and I think that would really change quite a lot in the industry. Because there's a lot of greenwashing.
So it's the start of a very long journey. Sadly the other day someone said to me, "No one cares. No one cares, Ginnie. They just want to look good." And I just thought, ‘wow, if we're only there still, then, well the future proves my brand, that’s for sure’. I've got a lot of work to do, which I really believe in. And the problem's not going away. Whether it's people or climate, there's a lot that will change in the next 10 to 15 years. I think that's what drives me, I know that it's not going away, and I can't change anything single-handedly obviously. But I'm focusing on building trust, so that if you like my style, you are also reassured that it's being vetted as well.
I love that, because I think a lot of the time if you talk to people about sustainability, it can seem like a scary concept that's just way too hard. But you don't have to throw everything out in your wardrobe and suddenly you only wear hemp…
Exactly. Everyone thinks it's shapeless hemp dresses, which is very hippy. But also I think there's a lot to be said to what the algorithms are feeding us. There are people who are trying to guess what we want to see. And if you're not confident in your style, you think, ‘I've got to have a prairie dress, and oh my gosh, I need an oversized collar, and I need the boyfriend jeans.’ And none of these things might even suit you, but it's just that feeling of being bombarded by brands wanting to sell new things. It’s about putting the blinkers on, that's what I say, and really thinking about what works for my budget, my lifestyle, and my body shape.
Finally, what does a day in your life look like now?
It's just a little less rushing. It's better for me. I was commuting four days a week, I really didn't see my children at all. And now I can juggle it. I think COVID changed a lot about how my husband and I parent. He's at home a lot more, which I love - he probably hates! But it's really about balance. This week, I've done two days in London, and I've got everything I needed to be done. And I can now be at home writing, pitching, responding to clients, brainstorming or finding new ideas that a particular client might be looking for.
I don't think we need to be chasing our tails all the time. It's okay to say no sometimes. The best advice I ever had was after I left Vogue. And I did see a counselor for a bit of advice and help, because it was a bit like a breakup, right? In the nice way, it was very hard to leave a whole identity basically and start afresh on your own with no one to bounce ideas off in your team. And she just said, ‘Value yourself and others will value you.’ And it was the best thing. I have it on the mantle above my desk.
Just saying, ‘I can't do it today, but I'll have it with you by X,’ is just is a better way of getting through my week, so that you don't come out at the end a bit frazzled.