This week, I have a great offer for you from one of our Live Frankly Directory brands. Let me tell you about Ty Cwch Boathouse…

Ty Cwch: the headlines

🏖️ It’s located in Cardigan Bay, Wales and August is peak season for dolphin watching.
🏗️ It’s eco-credentials are incredible, designed by architect Nigel Humphries.
📺 When it was built it was featured on C4 because of said incredible design.
💵 With this offer, it works out to be £27.50 pppn. For great accommodation.
🔅 It’s hot in the UK this summer. Now, we won’t go into that right now and, of course, no-one can guarantee the weather, but if you want to make the most of sunny days the timing doesn’t seem to get a much better than this.

Ty Cwch is for you if you like:

🏊‍♀️ Wild Swimming
🏄 Kayaking, Paddleboarding and Surfing
🎣 Sea Fishing
🚶‍♀️Walking & Hiking
🌱 Foraging
🐬 Wildlife Watching
📸 Photography
🏖️ Beach Days
🌌 Stargazing

The Live Frankly x Ty Cwch Offer:

We’ve teamed up with Ty Cwch because going away in August is often crazy expensive and I truly believe in what they stand for. You can read more on why that is here. I hope this makes getting away possible for someone reading this. Now, I’m hesitant to put words in Nigel’s mouth but I’m pretty sure he’s teaming up with us because he believes in what we stand for and thinks we’re pretty great, too. 😉

4 nights: Sunday 9 - Thursday 13 August
Price per cabin (sleeps 4): £440 (usually £544)
Price for whole boathouse (sleeps 12): £1320 (usually £1632)
EMAIL TO BOOK

3 nights: Monday 17 - Thursday 20 August
Price per cabin (sleeps 4): £330 (usually £408)
Price for whole boathouse (sleeps 12): £990 (usually £1224)
EMAIL TO BOOK

4 nights: Monday 24 - Friday 28 August
Price per cabin (sleeps 4): £440 (usually £544)
Price for whole boathouse (sleeps 12): £1320 (usually £1632)
EMAIL TO BOOK

3 nights: Friday 28 - Monday 31 August
Price per cabin (sleeps 4): £330 (usually £408)
Price for whole boathouse (sleeps 12): £990 (usually £1224)
EMAIL TO BOOK

What else you need to know:

Unless you book Ty Cwch Boathouse for exclusive use, it is intentionally designed to encourage interaction between guests. Each cabin is private (there are three in total) but the enormous living areas and very-well equipped kitchen are communal. Here’s the Ty Cwch Boathouse website link for full information.

Nigel and Christine, the owners, are deeply involved in the day-to-day running of the business. Their belief in environmental responsibility and shared experiences offers something truly rooted, radical, and rewarding.

The offer is first come, first serve. Simply email Nigel your preferred dates to book and tell him Live Frankly sent you.

There is flexibility with the dates above (and the offer might extend beyond August if you ask nicely…) Again, email Nigel with your request. The lesson here is, if you ask, you might get…

P.S. If you’re willing to help take the sails down and clean them at the end of November, you can stay for free for the weekend. If none of you email Nigel to take him up on this offer, I probably will.

P.P.S. The only role Live Frankly is playing in this, is great negotiation skills and sharing the offer with you. We hold no responsibility for your communication or stay beyond this point and get no kickbacks… Yes, I probably overstated those negotiation skills.

In between my last post and this post my dad died, I’m not ready to write about that.

But, I thought I would write about a food aspect. I’m staying with my mum for a while, and family and friends are kindly coming over, bringing food and staying to share it with us.

I have somewhat of a reputation for being difficult (let me finish…!) when it comes to food, because I only eat organic or ‘genuinely’ free-range meat, ideally from farms I know and trust. This is a thing people kind-of-know about me, but don’t-really-understand. The equivalent of Chandler Bing’s job, if you will.

It means that people are, considerately, asking where to buy meat ‘for me’. I tell them not to worry, I’m happy to stick with veggies. They cry out in horror that they hadn’t thought that the vegetables should be organic, too. I say I’m happy with any veggies and apologise that I’m making it difficult for them, when they’re trying to do a nice thing. They insist on trying to get organic ‘everything’ and ask for the treasure map which holds the secrets to the mythical places where they can source such magical food from. I tell them they can find all the farms I like on Live Frankly. I offer to order the ingredients for us, as it’s easy for me now. They may refuse or they may accept, but they always also apologise. It doesn’t get much more British, really.

So, last week a cousin turns up with a roasted organic chicken and a long and funny story about the lengths she went to, to source it. This cousin is generous to a fault, but the price she paid for the chicken, £20ish in a supermarket, floored her. The price difference still gets me, too.

We expect to pay £20 for a main meal in a restaurant, but for a whole chicken (that fed four of us, with leftovers!), it feels absurdly extravagant.

I’ve been reflecting on this. It’s been especially front of mind thanks to two articles I recently read about chicken, which seem to be part of a lobbying strategy to get more UK megafarms approved. I’ve broken down my reflections and responses to those articles into a list below. This is partly to make it easier to read. But, mainly because apparently grief can make you angry and as I was writing my stream of consciousness, I was furious. Not with my lovely family and friends, but with the so-called ‘Chicken King’, and the journalist that puts him so high up on a pedestal, and everyone else who greenwashes in our world. I would argue my anger is legitimate. But, of course I would. Regardless, you don’t need that in your inbox! Here’s what you do need:

5 reasons we won’t pay £21 for a chicken (but probably should)

1. Trust

We don’t trust that there’s really a difference in what we’re buying. Is there really that much difference between free-range, organic and Tesco finest?

I understand this. It’s one of the founding reasons I set up Live Frankly, I didn’t trust the marketing. For many, it’s too much effort to even try to discern the difference – “it’s all the same”, we tell ourselves. I did that for a while. Then 10 years ago, I walked into an abattoir to find out for myself what’s really going on and I’ve been writing about meat ever since.

What I’ve learnt? You probably can’t always taste the difference with meat sold in the supermarket. Free-range doesn’t always mean free range as you would expect. But, there are some really good farms that produce food exactly as you would hope. These probably represent around 5% of farms in the UK now. They don’t have huge marketing budgets and you have to put in the work to find them. Or let us do that work for you.

2. The media narrative

This is the part that I get really mad about. A recent article in The Grocer (an industry publication whose content rarely makes it into the mainstream, so I won’t link to it) positioned the owner of the biggest producer of chickens in the UK as "a new hero for net zero". It called him “The Chicken King”. It celebrated how he is balancing “improved animal welfare” with keeping chicken “affordable” at £4 each.

Messaging like this is why people can’t tell the difference between a £4 chicken and a £21 chicken. We hear words like “higher welfare” and “net zero” and we think to ourselves the £4 chicken ‘can’t be that bad’.

But it can, and it is.

The writer, Adam Leyland, raves about the extra floor space each ‘higher welfare’ chicken will have – 30kg/sq m, which sounds like a significant improvement from the current 38kg/sq m, especially because hardly any of us know what kg/sq m represents in reality.

Let me tell you: it means they are increasing the space each chicken has to live on in the sheds from 0.93 A4 sheet of paper to 1.17 A4 sheets of paper.

Is that what you imagine when you think of a ‘higher welfare chicken’?

I am scathing about most of the points in the article. So, we will leave it there for now.

3. The ‘British is better’ fairytale

More than 95% of poultry meat produced in the UK is certified to Red Tractor standards, which are slightly better than our European neighbours.

But 95% of our chickens are still intensively farmed. One report reveals that there are up to 40,000 chickens in each shed and the average chicken reared for meat in this way lives a little over a month:

“They grow to maturity within a matter of weeks, causing them leg and heart conditions and are often crowded in indoor facilities with little natural light. At slaughter weight, these fast-growing birds are often unable to support their own weight, losing the ability to walk.”

Around 20 million chickens are slaughtered for meat every week, but many do not survive to slaughter. Those that have survived are likely to have been administered with preventative antibiotics due to spread of disease from being reared in such close confinement.

This leads to the spread of antibiotic-resistant bacteria in humans as well as animals. As such, it is undermining our ability to cure life-threatening infections in people.

This may be ‘better’ than Europe. But, it’s not exactly good, is it?

Why are more of us not angry about this?

4. Demand and supply

Another article, this time in the Financial Times, reports that while demand for chicken is rising up to 5% year-on-year, UK production isn’t keeping up meaning that imports of chicken have risen to £1.78 billion in 2025 from £823.7 million in 2020.

“The problem that we’re really running into now is that we do not have the capacity to keep up,” Richard Griffiths, chief executive of the British Poultry Council, is quoted as saying.

I’m not sure that is the problem, Richard.

The article goes on to explain that there are “hundreds of millions of pounds” worth of investment ready to go, and about 100 planning applications to build or modernise poultry “farms” that are being "blocked".

Maybe the problem is the demand.

We already produce a staggering one billion chickens a year in the UK. Rather than building more chicken factories to meet demand, should we ask if we really need to be eating more chicken? And what are the alternatives?

5. Denial

If people want to eat factory-farmed chicken, that’s up to them. No sarcasm. But, let’s call it what it is. Let’s not make questionable ‘net zero’ and ‘higher welfare’ claims.

It shouldn’t be controversial to say that animals should be reared with respect. It’s not elitist to argue that everyone deserves to eat good food. A conversation I had with Scottish baker Rosie Gray years ago always comes back to me. Her position was very clear: “There is no dignity in someone being told if you can’t afford food you can eat crap. It’s rude.”

If you believe in animal welfare, and want to eat more nutritious food, then a really good option is to buy less and buy better. I know it takes a while to get our heads around this. Here are the farms I recommend. A special shout out to Planton Farm who are doing incredible work breeding dual purpose chickens (did you know that pretty much all male chicks in the egg industry are killed at birth? That’s another article for another time…) and who are raising truly free-range regenerative chickens, exactly as you would imagine. That’s the photo I chose for the top of this article. That’s the 5% from which you can tell the difference. That’s the 5% that inspires me to keep running Live Frankly.

If there’s anything you’ve been wondering about let me know and I’m happy to do the research for you. You won’t be the only one thinking about it, and I love it when someone else voices what’s been in the back of my mind.

Main image: Ben Pryor for Planton Farms

On Friday, I was updating an article on the best ethical menswear brands.

On Saturday, I was filming at a protest because the personal cost of joining the protest and getting arrested felt too great.

On Sunday, I sat laughing in the sunshine with friends, bringing temporary lightness to some of the heavier things that are going on in our personal lives.

On Monday, I started writing this newsletter, yesterday I sat on it, today I’m sending.

I’ve written it with the words of another friend, who owns a sustainable fashion brand, ringing in my ears: “How do we continue doing this when there is much bigger shit going on in the world?”

I ask myself that question all the time. Only I do it in a self-critical way, whereas I immediately told my friend how important I think the work she does is (I really do) and how we have to keep trying to ‘grow the good’ at this time.

So, do I write about the menswear brands or do I write about more important issues? That’s what I was toying with today. For future newsletters, I’d love to know what you most like to read about, but for now I won’t keep you in suspense… I’m not going to write about either, I’m going to talk about that space in between – because I’m sure we aren’t the only ones who find ourselves in it.

What I find really difficult to balance is the fact that while I go against the grain in many ways, I’d still consider myself to be a mediocre activist – at best. There’s the people doing high-risk activism, those who spend years exposing and campaigning against the water companies and the Post Office, those being arrested for protesting or direct action. And then there’s me, running Live Frankly.

The premise of Live Frankly is simple: be honest. For, if we’re more honest about the systems we participate in, we could change them.

This doesn’t feel like ‘real activism’. It can feel like the bare minimum, to me. Yet, it’s still a big ask for most people – because the ways we benefit from these systems is something many of us don’t want to accept. Even reading this, you may find your body feeling a bit resistant to the idea.

The challenge is, when we acknowledge harm we then have to decide whether we’re willing to do anything about it. I suspect this challenge exists wherever on the activism spectrum we sit.

We think, if we change this one thing then we should probably change all these other things. Then, it all starts to feel like too much. So we don’t do the one thing. Or the other thing. Sometimes, we find ourselves rejecting the idea we should do anything at all.

In conversations, all the time, I hear: “That’s just the way of the world.” “What can we really do about it anyway?” “You’re too angry.” “It’s not like you’re perfect…” “Oh, I don’t want to think about that!” and so on. I think these things, too.

I feel, simultaneously, that what I do is both too much and not enough. Do you ever feel like this?

And I don’t quite know what to do with this.

But, if this resonates, maybe we need to talk more about this. Maybe being a ‘mediocre activist’ isn’t something to be ashamed of. Maybe it’s reality for many of us. And perhaps there’s an unacknowledged strength in that refusal to switch off. To keep noticing. To keep questioning. To keep growing what good we can.

Does that make mediocrity enough? I’m not so sure. But, talking about it feels like it opens up more honesty, and for better alignment between the lives we live and the values we hold.

I now have pages and pages of notes about this, that I’ve tried to trim down to one coherent newsletter. Today I share the first part, to invite conversation, I’d love to hear if this speaks to your experience, too…

I took my first flight in March last year, after two years of not flying.

We were travelling to Morocco and I had worked out the route overland: four trains and a bus through France to southern Spain, and a ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar. Then it was a mere eight-hour bus ride from Tangier to Essaouira.

Up until the week before we left, that is how we were going to travel. It was going to take four days and cost more than £1,000.

Meanwhile, a Ryanair flight from Stansted was going to get us there in 3 hours and 40 minutes and cost £91 each. My husband, Joe, and I discussed it a lot. We had been under a significant amount of strain at home and neither of us were looking forward to the journey, especially as we’d done a large part of it many times before. ‘It makes no difference in the scheme of things, if we fly,’ he kept insisting, even though he usually accepted I wouldn’t fly fairly easily. The man had a point – fossil-fuel loving Trump had been inaugurated, Bezos was sending Katy Perry into space, and governments continued (and continue) to drop bombs with as little regard for carbon footprint as human life.

I had to ask myself, was I insisting on not flying because I truly believe in not flying or was I not flying because I was being stubborn, enjoyed the moral high-ground I was occupying by not flying, and feared being called a hypocrite if I flew (which, of course, has since happened)?

I considered all the above – and we agreed to compromise, to fly to Morocco and travel back overland.

I appreciated how quickly we arrived. We left early in the morning and were enjoying fish on the beach by lunchtime. But I loved travelling back. We hired a car and drove from Marrakech to Tangier via the Ouzoud waterfalls in the Middle Atlas Mountains and the Merzouga’s golden dunes in the Sahara desert.

When we reached Tangier we separated for a short while – Joe flew to Spain to meet his brother. I followed with a friend a couple of weeks later, but we travelled by ferry to Tarifa, where we stopped to enjoy the endless beach and tapas in the old town for a couple of nights, and bus to Malaga.

Reunited, Joe tried to persuade me to fly home. He once again compared the time and expense of getting the train and hotels over multiple days, compared with a single flight from Malaga to London. Again, I could see his point. And the comparative costs, when compared on a spreadsheet in black and white, were galling. It’s shocking how penalised people are for taking less carbon-intensive modes of travel.

But, this time I insisted I would be travelling overland because I was enjoying it. Although it was going to take longer, we had the time so speed wasn’t a real issue. The travel itself was more expensive, but this was part of a long digital-nomad trip, so it wasn’t prohibitively so.

The issue wasn’t really either of these points, it was mindset. Joe subconsciously holds the belief that getting somewhere more efficiently and cheaper is better – even if those things aren’t really the most important considerations.

The route by train and bus was going to allow us to stop over and see friends in Barcelona, Perpignan and Paris, to visit one friend we hadn’t seen in 10 years! In the end, Joe decided to join me. Travelling this way also meant we went on an spontaneous (organic) vineyard tour in Provence and had one of our favourite nights out, tapas bar hopping in Zaragoza, a city we would never have otherwise visited as it sits between the more connected destinations of Barcelona and Madrid. We worked or did life admin on the trains, or sometimes just looked out of the window at the changing landscapes. We had a great time, we truly enjoyed the journey, and it was a reminder for us both that some of our best memories and deeper understanding of different cultures have been created in such in-between places, the places we would fly straight over at 35,000 ft if we were to go straight from Big City to Big City.

And, despite all the above experiences teaching me that the fastest route is rarely the most fun or the cheapest rarely the best, the fact remains that flying is one of the worst things you can you can do for the environment as an individual. Now, there’s lots of stats you can read (and I have read and written about, fully here, with sources). But I’ll try to give you the headlines –

When it comes to the UK, 70% of all flights taken are taken by just 15% of people.

Half the UK population never take a flight.

Globally, it’s a similar picture. Just 4% of the world’s population fly internationally in any given year.

Even just flying from London to Rome emits more CO2 than an average person living in one of the 17 least polluting countries emits in a whole year.

As author of Zero Altitude, Helen Coffey explains: “It’s a climate justice issue, where the poorest are carrying the can for the lifestyle of the wealthy.”

So, your bum and my bum on that seat really does make a difference. Because it’s only our bums that are on them.

So, was I refusing to fly because I truly believed in it or because I liked the moral high ground? Honestly, a bit of both.

I can see the contradictions in my own logic just as much as I can see the flaws in Joe’s. Through this I’ve learned the value of questioning the default response – both my default sustainability thinking and behaviour that society normalises.

Hypocrite though I may be, I will continue to carefully consider each flight. Not because I think my individual choices are going to change the world. I know that in isolation, they barely register. But, I also feel that’s an easy thing to hide behind and I don’t believe we create a better world by measuring our actions against some of the worst examples. I want to tread lighter on this planet because I believe that’s the right thing to do, regardless of what anyone else is doing.

Having a black-and-white answer makes things much simpler to explain, like saying you’re vegetarian or don’t drink, rather than: ‘I sometimes eat meat or have a drink depending on the circumstances’. But life isn’t that simple. The grey area is messy and unavoidable and the trick is acknowledging it without using it as a free pass to do whatever takes our fancy.

While I was there filming organic pigs eating organic potatoes (see below; watch with sound on), pork hit the headlines in a way it hasn’t since 2015 – with reports that sales of “traditional” nitrate-cured bacon have dropped, while bacon with no-added nitratee sales have soared because of concerns around additives and their links to cancer.

Now, naturally, I take issue with the use of the word ‘traditional’ here because traditional curing methods traditionally include natural ingredients like celery salt and parsley as opposed to manufactured nitro-chemicals such as sodium nitrate and sodium nitrite. You can read more about that here.

But, a bigger issue is that we’re not talking enough about how the pigs are farmed before any nitrates are added.

Government data shows that the number of megafarms in the UK increased by 21 per cent between 2017-2024. Wicked Leeks report: “For pigs, North Yorkshire saw the highest number of animals confined in “megafarms”, with more than 191,000; Norfolk, with nearly 150,000; and the East Ridings of Yorkshire, with almost 133,000 animals.” The article explains how the available data barely scratches the surface with how intensive pig farming has become.

Around 85% of farmed animals are now confined in factory farms here in the UK, according to Compassion In World Farming (CIWF). I cannot emphasise enough how far this style of pig farming is from the farms we imagine and would be happy to take kids to visit.

This isn’t just a horrific animal-welfare issue, with CIWF reporting how 50% of female pigs are forced to nurse their young through the bars of a “crate”. These crates are essentially cages, too small to even turn around in.

It also raises questions about what we’re eating – intensive industrial livestock production entails crowded and stressful conditions which can lead to ever-more antibiotics and ever-more harmful strains of disease emerging.

I have written so many articles about this before. You can read one about pigs here. But, you don’t have to. All you need to know if you’re looking for the benefits of bacon without added nitrates, is that you should make sure that the pork comes from organic pigs or genuinely free-range ones. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy to identify where, or even if, this exists in the supermarket.

But you’ll only find farms that offer organic and genuinely free-range on Live Frankly. Farming systems run by people like ‘Dave the pigman’ on Helen Browning’s farm, which I got to experience first-hand. I was astounded by how open they were with me. It was refreshingly frank talk. Just how we like it. But, more on that soon.

Slowly, we’ve started to interview the founders of brands in the Live Frankly Directory about their ‘why’. These interviews were never the obvious choice for our small team. If we were chasing traffic and sales alone, we’d publish endless lists of products. But, we’ve continued to do them because they tell the human story behind the brands.

They tell the story of something else too, not founders who have had huge success. Not people who always knew what they were going to do. I can’t stress enough how much these are the stories of people like you and me.

These are the still-evolving stories of the founders (people) who made a change in their own lives because they believe that life and business can be done differently. These aren’t easy choices. It takes courage and persistence to go against the grain – take it from somebody who knows.

We ask what their ‘lightbulb’ moment was and what their biggest successes and challenges have been along the way. If I’m totally honest, an important driver behind this series is seeking these answers for myself – a kind of sense checking, when you wonder if you’re the crazy one for trying to do what you do.

If that’s you, these interviews might help. If you wonder what’s really the difference between genuinely sustainable brands and others who talk a good game, reading these stories might make that a little bit clearer. If you suffer from imposter syndrome, these interviews might remind you that extraordinary things are often done by (extra) ordinary people who start to make different choices.

If you’d like us to keep sharing these, give the post a ‘like’, it helps us know to continue. And if there’s a founder you think we should speak to, or a question we should ask, leave a comment or send us an email.

Joan Johnston, Ava Innes
After a distinguished career in the UK luxury textile industry, Joan created a-purpose led business centred on sleep, sustainability and circular design.

Aishwarya Lahariya, Jiwya
Aishwarya was a textile scientist. Today she co-leads Jiwya, a fashion and lifestyle brand with a ‘soil-to-soil’ supply chain working with generational artisans across India.

Arati Nar, Anara Skincare
Arati spent 14 years at Ocado before founding her luxury, natural origin skincare brand.

Jenny Allan, Jenerous
Jenny was a designer for Debenhams. Her clothing brand Jenerous partners with Fair Trade enterprises in India to empower women with fair wages and sustainable work.

Heike Petersen Cunza, Wellicious
Heike took a break from the fashion industry in 2016 and it took her a further six years to relaunch Wellicious, a circular, Cradle to Cradle Certified® brand.

Gillian Ridley Whittle, Peachaus
Gillian’s was (the original) Topshop’s fashion director. She founded Peachaus, an ethical women’s lifestyle brand that sells leisurewear, sleepwear and underwear.

P.S. Notice a pattern? They’re all women, and yes, I almost got through the newsletter without making a thing of it. Happy belated International Women’s Day.

I listened to Dr Rangan Chatterjee’s podcast with motivational speaker Mel Robbins in which she states the most important thing you can do every day is to high-five yourself in the mirror – as a gesture of support and self-acceptance.

I struggle with these things. I spend a lot of time thinking about systems and power and whether I/we are doing enough – and, with the way the world is trending, it never feels like I’m doing enough.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I decide I’m going to think small (about what I can control) and not big (about the whole wide world). I decide I’m going to try championing myself and see what impact that has. I tell my friend I’m committing to high-fives for five consecutive days.

Here’s how it goes…

Day One

My friend and I are messaging, as we do most days, and she asks me: “How did high-fiving yourself go today?”

“Damn!” I reply. “I forgot but I’m going to do it now.”

I realise even though I’ve brushed my teeth I don’t really know what I look Iike today. I walk to the mirror. Is this what I look like, I think? I mean, I know what I look like, but this is the first time I’ve looked at myself purely to look at myself, not to brush my teeth or do my hair or put make-up on. It’s a weird couple of seconds. I high-five myself and walk out.

“Did it!” I reply.

Day Two

“So, how did it go today?” my friend asks.

“Dammit! I forgot again!” I say and head to the mirror.

I look at myself and think that in my mind I see myself as looking younger than I do in my reflection. Then, I question whether or not I deserve this high-five: ‘What am I high-fiving you for?’ I think. I would never question whether someone else holding their hand up for a high-five deserves it, I’d just do it. I raise my hand to high-five. I don’t actually touch the mirror though for two reasons. The first is that I don’t want to mark it. The second is that touching the cold glass will be a reality check that I’m just high-fiving a mirror.

My friend is only 25 minutes into the podcast so hasn’t started high-fiving herself yet. She also needs Mel Robbins 5, 4,3, 2, 1 procrastination tactic I tell her – she’ll know what that means once she gets further in.

Day Three

Today, I remember to high-five myself! Not in the morning, admittedly. But, early-afternoon I quickly run to the mirror. Huh. One eye is bigger than the other, I think. I kind of know this, but now I’m actually looking at the person I’m high-fiving. Who are you? I wonder. No time for that though, I have a call to jump on. A quick high-five. An added impulsive silent celebratory “Go you buddy!” and I’m outta there.

Day Four

Had the brilliant idea that I should photograph myself doing these high-fives for this piece. Turns out it wasn’t such a great plan. I started criticising myself. My hair. My face. My expression. The other thing it made me do was to not really look at myself. Just to look critically at the photo of me. I decide no more photos and high-five myself with a “woop” and walk out.

I write the above and then I go back to the bathroom to look at myself properly and high-five myself again just because. I give myself a smile because I smile at everybody else and I deserve the same.

Day Five

I walk into the bathroom into the morning and remember to high-five myself. I do double high-five, the literal one and another mental one for remembering to high-five myself. Yes! Honestly, for a few minutes after doing this I champion myself and when the voices in my head start to get hard on me, I think ‘that’s no way to speak to the lady you’ve just high-fived!’ and switch the narrative back to one of positivity.

Two weeks later

I stumble across this draft and think: “Doh!“ I haven’t done any high-fives since I stopped writing this. I’m not going to beat myself up about this though, as I would have done before. I walk into the bathroom and I go high for this high-five, with a little jump. I saunter outta that bathroom with a swagger in my step.

I have every intention of high-fiving myself again tomorrow, but I might forget. I probably will. But, I will continue to do give myself sporadic high-fives, as a reminder to continue to champion myself. It doesn’t change the world. But, it changes how I move through it – celebrating engagement over results or perfection. And I recommend it for anyone who might need to do the same.

Progress not perfection, my friends.

Have you read Jameela Jamil’s recent Substack: Ah shit! We let pedophiles decide our beauty standards? She lets rip – and it’s a shocking, entertaining and thought-provoking read on the ridiculous standards women hold ourselves up to. In one of the less provocative sections (and I say ‘provocative’ with great admiration) Jamil writes:

“Covid brought about a year in which people could not get fillers/botox, and started to… (holds back vomit) embrace a moving, aging, face. They started wearing less make up. More comfortable shoes. So now the danger was extending to the precious multi multi billion dollar aesthetics industry.”

This questioning of the ‘norm’ is central to our newest campaign about Ultra-Processed Beauty, which launches today. Jamil’s article questions what we’re really signing ourselves and other women up for. It made me think about all the innocuous actions we take, unthinkingly, that uphold these narratives. Like… moisturising, every day.

I remember distinctly the day I stopped moisturising, eight years ago. Every day, I religiously followed the routine I had been trained to do since I was 13 – I showered and I moisturised afterwards. As I got older I had thorough pedicures and bought a Ped Egg because it promised super soft skin. And my skin still suffered from dryness.

My boyfriend’s skin, meanwhile, was soft as a baby’s. He took four-minute showers and had never considered moisturising in his life. It’s so unfair, I thought. Then I thought about all the other men in my life who don’t seem to moisturise or suffer from dry skin. And I wondered – or is it?

So, I did what they did. Nothing. And my legs became really dry and flaky for a while, but it was winter so I let them do their thing. I let my feet do their thing too, although, they were now ensconced in socks and shoes rather than barefoot or in flip-flops, so they were loving life.

And then the dryness stopped. And then, I just didn’t need to moisturise regularly any more and I still don’t. So, we lived happily ever after with soft skin. The end.

Not quite, of course...

It was actually the start of a journey that made me question shower gels, shampoos, deodorants in my personal life and start to research beauty for Live Frankly.

Long-story short, that led me to skincare brand Neve’s Bees. I got talking more and more often with the founder, Julie Macken, a qualified chemist with a 20-year career in pharmaceutical marketing who, in her own words, had become “disillusioned with the poor quality and sometimes downright nasty ingredients that we are encouraged to put on and in our bodies”.

I’d ask her about popular products and she would decipher the ingredients lists for me, which you pretty much need a chemistry degree to do. It was shocking. Every. Single. Time. We decided we needed to share this knowledge – most of us have no idea what we’re putting on our skin, or why.

Well, we partly know why, it’s because we’re told that aging makes us hideous and we must use any chemical available to slow that process. I think, on some level, we all know most skincare products don’t do what they promise. But, we buy them anyway, and slather them on in the hope that they will make us look young and/or solve all our other problems.

But, if we were to reject that notion, then the ‘why’ becomes a ‘what’: What exactly are we putting on our skin? What is this doing to us? And, is this really skin “care”?

So, I started asking that question of natural, water-free skincare brands – Lyonsleaf, Shade All Natural Sunscreen and Husk and Seed. They had individually been trying to get word out about this for years, but are small businesses with limited reach. We agreed to work together to see if we could have more impact that way.

But, I also wanted to understand other perspectives. There’s a whole bunch of natural and organic brands that do use water. So, I started speaking with them, too.

I interviewed two formulators of products for organic and natural brands.

I spoke with technical specialist for the organic certifying board The Soil Association, Emma Dawes, who also sits on the COSMOS technical committee and helped to create their international organic standards for beauty products.

I tried to speak non-organic dermatologists, but didn’t have much luck there. (I’m still open to these conversations if anyone wants to reach out…)

And after all that, I wrote this article. It explains how our skin works, what moisturising really is (it’s not ‘adding’ moisture to your skin, who knew?!), and how to get healthy skin, naturally.

The TL:DR* version? Your skin is pretty good at looking after itself and you really don’t need many products. Inspired by Julie(!), I mainly shower with just water for my body now. I continue to keep my skin ‘moisturised’ by eating well, staying hydrated and getting enough sleep. Occasionally, if I feel it needs it, I give it some additional TLC with an oil or balm.

For my face, for more than a year now, I’ve used the same natural, water-free balm to cleanse at night if I’ve worn make-up, and to moisturise in the morning. One 60ML pot has lasted me four months and I anticipate I have another month to go.

Most importantly of all, I reject the premise that I need anti-aging products. And by rejecting that, so many of the other negative narratives the beauty industry chucks my way bounce straight off me.

I hope the article and this newsletter go some way for doing the same for you.

*TL:DR = Too Long, Don’t Read. (But, it is worth a read, even if I do say so myself! Would love to hear your questions and thoughts!).

My faith in humanity is being restored because of three news stories this week. Truly!

The headlines, of course, have been dominated by Bad Bunny, Trump, Epstein, Mandelson… And I’m following three others, and finally, I feel we are starting to seeing the tides turn. Now, I don’t know the ending of these stories just yet. There’s one case that’s still hanging in the balance, and the threat of retrials and appeals for the others. But, I want to talk about them before the verdict is in. I want to luxuriate in the hope I feel, because I haven’t felt this way for some time.

Let’s start at the beginning, because pretty much every time I speak to a friend who doesn’t work in sustainability, they have no idea these cases are even going on, and perhaps you haven’t heard either…

1. The Filton Six
   
   This is the trial of six young people, aged between 21 - 31, who were in prison awaiting trial for 17 months. One of the charges against them was aggravated burglary, which carries a possible sentence of life imprisonment.
   
   They had broken into a Bristol-based factory owned by Israel’s largest weapons manufacturer, Elbit Systems, in August 2024 and destroyed equipment using sledgehammers. They committed this action because, the defence argued, Elbit Systems “played a critical role in the killing of tens of thousands of Palestinians” while being “wined and dined” by those in power in the UK. [1]

   There was no denial from the defendants that they had committed the action. The question for the jury to decide, was whether it was aggravated burglary. For that to be true the jury would have to believe that the activists had harboured an intention to use the sledgehammers to hurt the guards when they broke into the factory.

   Incredibly, despite being under immense pressure to do so, the jury refused to convict them of this charge and five of the six on trial were released from jail. The activists also faced charges of criminal damage and violent disorder, but the jury returned partial or no verdicts for these. [1]

   Because, in the UK, juries still have the right to give verdict according to their moral conscience, which dates back to 1670. As Rajiv Menon KC, defending Charlotte Head, explained in his closing speech [2]:
   
   Indeed, it was as long ago as 1670 that the independence of the jury was definitively established beyond question. William Penn and William Meade were Quakers. They were prosecuted for preaching to an unlawful assembly. It was a crime in 1670 (about 20 or 30 years after the end of the English Civil war) to have a religious assembly of more than five people outside the auspices of the Church of England. And William Penn and William Meade had preached to a group of more than five people on the streets of London. They stood trial at the Old Bailey before a judge and jury, and at the end of the evidence, the judge directed the jury to convict, but the jury refused to convict.
   

   The judge was furious, and again ordered the jury to convict, stating that they would not be dismissed until they did so. The jury again refused to convict. The judge remanded the entire jury in custody for two days and ordered that they be denied all food and water. As the jurors were being taken from court to prison, William Penn, it is said, shouted out, “You are Englishmen, mind your privilege, give not away your right”, to which one member of the jury, Edward Bushel, replied, “Nor shall we ever do.” When the jury returned to court two days later, having not had any food or water for that period, the judge again ordered them to convict. The jury continued to refuse and returned a verdict of not guilty.

   The judge fined the jury for contempt of court and remanded them in custody until the fines were paid. Eight jurors paid their fines, but four refused, and one of those was Edward Bushel, who then petitioned a higher court for what is called a writ of habeas corpus, which, if issued by the court, would result in his immediate release from custody. The higher court issued that writ, and Edward Bushel and the three others were released, establishing the right of a jury to return a verdict without fear of punishment from the trial judge.
   

   This legal challenge by Edward Bushel has come to be known as Bushel’s case and is one of the most celebrated cases in British legal history. There’s a marble plaque inside the Old Bailey in central London, which reads as follows:

   Near this site, William Penn and William Meade were tried in 1670 for preaching to an unlawful assembly in Grace Church Street. This tablet commemorates the courage and endurance of the jury, Thomas Veer, Edward Bushel, and 10 others who refused to give a verdict against them, although locked up without food for two nights and were fined for their final verdict of not guilty. The case of these jurymen was reviewed on a writ of habeas corpus, and Chief Justice Vaughan delivered the opinion of the court, which established the right of juries to give their verdict according to their convictions.

   
   There’s a lot more to story, here are some links where you can read more about it. But, what gives me hope is that away from the sensationalist headlines, and away from divisive social media, when faced with all the evidence, a jury made up of everyday people, recognised that these weren’t indiscriminate violent criminals who deserved to have life sentences thrown at them, they were people filled with compassion who believed that this action would help to stop people being killed across the world. The jury chose to see their humanity.

   

2. Palestine Action
   

   Now, the Filton Six is linked to another case that’s been in the courts over the past week because the activists were part of direct action group, Palestine Action. In August 2024, when they broke into the factory, Palestine Action was a legal organisation. Nearly a year later, in July 2025, the government used this action as part of their reasoning for declaring Palestinian Action a terrorist group – the first time in British history that a non-violent direct action organisation has been ‘proscribed’ (forbid).
   
   Broadly speaking, this means that anyone who shows support for Palestine Action is committing a terrorist offence and risks a potential prison sentence of up to 14 years. Many questioned the legality of this, and you can get a good idea of the controversy from watching C4’s Dispatches: The truth behind the ban.

   Since July, thousands of people have been involved in large, peaceful protests. Time and time again, hundreds sat in silence and had held signs that read: "I oppose genocide. I support Palestine Action." Time and time again the police arrested them for terrorist offences. Currently more than 2,700 people have been arrested under the Terrorism Act.

   The protesters maintain this is not just about Palestine Action. It goes to the heart of our democracy and freedom of expression, and is about uniting under repression. “If we let this go, the unions, and climate and racial justice movements will be next,“ writes Defend Our Juries [3].

   It’s not only everyday people who are questioning whether the ban was lawful, that question has gone all the way to the High Court. Just this Friday, the High Court ruled that the government’s ban ruled was a disproportionate interference with the right to freedom of expression and freedom of assembly. They ruled it was unlawful, “disproportionate” and said it should be overturned.

   Green party leader Zack Polanski agreed with the ruling and called for charges made against protesters to be dropped. “It is time for the Government to stop criminalising the people protesting a genocide,” he said. It was a sentiment echoed by Liberal Democrat home affairs spokesman Max Wilkinson, who said placing Palestine Action “in the same legal category as Isis” was disproportionate.

   The Guardian

   The government have said they are going to appeal the verdict. So, the proscription remains in place for now. Until it is quashed, it remains a terrorist offence to be a member of, or show support for, Palestine Action.
   
   What gives me hope from this story? How incredible it is that so many everyday people are willing to risk their personal freedoms to stand up for what they believe in and to defend the freedoms of us all, both in the UK and across the world. When you’re asking yourself “But, what can I do?“ and feeling hopeless, ask yourself “But, what can we do?” and see the difference that makes.

   This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

   

3. Medics break glass in case of emergency
   

   Which brings me to the final case that’s taking place, for the second time. I’ve Googled this to try to share a link with you and can’t see it written about anywhere(!), but here’s the XR link. I’m in a group that shares updates every day about how this trial is progressing, which again, gives me hope.

   So, the background: In 2022, on a Sunday morning at 8am, during a heat wave in July, six medics carefully(!) cracked eight windows of J P Morgan in Canary Wharf. They waited for the police to arrive and to be arrested. Their goal was to “break glass in case of emergency“ and bring attention to the fact that J P Morgan is consistently a lead investor in fossil fuels. Between the Paris Agreement which came into force in 2016 (and in which almost all the nations of the world agreed to cut the greenhouse gas emissions which are causing global warming) and the window cracking in 2022, the firm had invested over $400 billion in fossil fuels. If you lined up $400bn in dollar bills that would take you all 162 times farther than the Moon. J P Morgan repeatedly ignored many attempts to engage with concerned campaigners about this and so the medics felt compelled to take further action.

“History teaches us that direct action has played a vital role in confronting injustice, protecting the vulnerable and the least culpable. From the campaign for suffrage and civil rights to the anti-apartheid movement, healthcare professionals have often stood at the forefront, guided by the recognition that silence in the face of atrocity is complicity.”

Dr. Lynne Jones, Child and Adolescent Psychiatrist and Author on medical activism

In 2024, the case went to trial and a jury was unable to reach a verdict on whether to convict the six of criminal damage. (The Southbank Centre recently staged a play about this, which was how I was able to find an image to use above).

Again, there was no denying the medics had committed the action. The question for the jury was whether they wanted to acquit the defendants according to their conscience. And the jury, again under immense pressure and intitially confused by the direction from the judge, couldn’t decide.

So, the case is being been re-tried at Southwark Crown Court this week, and the jury are expected to deliver a verdict early next week.

Again, there’s a lot more to this story. I don’t doubt there will be more plays and a film about this time in history.

There’s every reason to hope that the verdict will be ‘not guilty’, in line with the trend we’re seeing at the moment. But, this can’t be taken for granted. The basic principles of justice and the right to a fair trial are being violated, with judges banning people from using the words ‘climate change’ in court and jailing them just for defying that prohibition. One judge, in February last year, even threatened a jury with criminal proceedings if they applied their conscience to the facts of a climate protest case.

This is why knowing our rights is so important, and showing support for the people defending them, is even more so.

The fact that every day people are standing up for what they believe is right, in the streets and on juries, is why my faith in humanity is being restored right now. It’s turning on its head that impotent feeling – that we have no power and nothing changes no matter what we do. The wins are important to show fighting injustice can and does work. But, these people have been showing up even when there was no guarantee of success.

It’s a helpful reminder there are more good people on the planet than there are the Epsteins and the Mandlesons who have been dominating the headlines this week. And that the Epsteins and the Mandlesons get away with what they do when good people do nothing.

Can you imagine what type of world we could create if more good people did something? If all this compassion and power and energy could be harnessed in other ways?

That’s why I wrote this. Thank you if you’re still reading. Thank you for being open to what I have written. And, of course, the biggest thank you to all those who risk their freedoms so that so many of us can have ours.

[1] https://thebristolcable.org/2026/02/palestine-action-filton-6-cleared/

[2] https://realmedia.press/the-filton-trial-defence-speeches/

[3] https://defendourjuries.net/lift-the-ban/

Every so often, you meet someone who’s quietly rewriting the rules of an entire industry. Caroline Bennett has spent nearly a decade challenging an industry that said what she wanted to do was impossible. She built her own transparent supply chain. She backed small, independent day boats when everyone else backed corporates. And now, she’s taking on smoked salmon itself, creating a wild, artisanal alternative that proves what better genuinely tastes like.

An estimated 25% of smoked salmon is sold over the Christmas period, adding a touch of luxury to everything from scrambled eggs at breakfast to canapés with cream cheese. But, salmon is fast becoming one of the most problematic foods globally, and fishmonger Caroline Bennett is one of the few fishmongers in the UK who is doing something about it.

Hers is a fascinating story. Essentially, Caroline created online fishmonger Sole of Discretion in 2016 after finding it impossible to source ethical fish for her London sushi restaurant, Moshi Moshi. Sole of Discretion pioneered a fully traceable supply chain. They work with small day boats and ensure the name of the boat and skipper, plus the catch method and location, is included on the packaging. This way customers know where it comes from and who caught it.

She has been raising awareness about the issues with farmed salmon for years. Where to start – Scottish salmon? That’s now owned by huge foreign corporates. Pristine waters? Not quite – salmon pens contain left over feed, excrement and the many chemicals used to treat the problem of parasitic lice and other diseases, and this leaks out to pollute the surrounding water, too. The idea is the tides are meant to help move this. But, the fish are so intensively farmed now, the tides aren’t able to move the amount there is.

An estimated 25% of all farmed salmon dies prematurely. And we’re eating what survives and calling it luxury. Yum.

So, where were we? Oh yes. Smoked salmon as a Christmas treat. Well, the good news is that this year, Caroline is creating her own wild smoked salmon, to help consumers to move away from farmed smoked salmon. “Obviously, in the wild, nature does everything for you. It’s fed the animal, it’s housed the animal – all you have to do it is catch it. Then you’ve got a very sustainable piece of animal protein on your plate,” she says.

Caroline’s using wild Coho salmon (line caught from Alaska) and cold-smoking the fish in a kiln on Plymouth fish market’s harbourside. Using oakwood chips and organic sea salt, the fish is smoked following the method she was taught by fellow Slow Food member and expert Sally Barnes, owner of Woodcock Smokery, another pioneering (female!) fishmonger based in West Cork, who has been doing it for 45 years.

So, if you’re eating smoked salmon this Christmas, this really is the salmon to be buying. It’s a true artisanal product that’s a far cry from the intensively farmed system. You can read more about it here.

In the spirit of true transparency, I’ll admit there’s only one compromise: it’s a bit of tricky website to navigate (small sustainable companies can’t always invest in the latest tech). Two tips: 1. Put the date of you want your delivery in the red box on the right-hand-side of the screen first. 2. Persevere. You won’t be disappointed.

P.S. This is our final note before Christmas. We hope the days ahead bring you plenty of happy moments, rest(!) and good company. See you in the new year.

“That special moment at Christmas dinner, that quiet when you have the first mouthful and everyone thinks ‘wow’ – that’s what we spend many months of every year trying to give people,” a farmer and true pioneering voice in sustainability once told me.

That moment is captured in heartwarming Christmas adverts each year by big supermarkets with huge marketing budgets. But, the reality is far from the fantasy they depict. And I’m not only referring to family politics around the table(!) – I’m talking about the politics behind what’s being served on the table.

It’s really difficult to cut through the marketing to help people understand the difference between a turkey that costs around £100 from a small, independent farm and a turkey that costs £37.45 in Tesco – I should know, I’ve been writing about this for more than a decade now.

But, the difference is significant.

A staggering 95% of our food is sold through just 10 retailers, including Tesco, Sainsbury’s and Waitrose, meaning they hold all the cards. Their buying policies are impacting how our food is produced. Since 2005, we have lost a quarter of farms that are smaller than 100 hectares in England. Today, just 11% of English farms now control more than half of English farmland, according to DEFRA. Plus, 85% of all farmed animals in the UK are now factory farmed, reports Compassion in World Farming (CIWF).

“Big retailers often portray themselves as champions of small family farms in their marketing campaigns,” Will White from Sustain told me, for a report I was working on for Wicked Leeks. “However, in reality, farmers are being relentlessly squeezed. Research indicates that farmers frequently receive less than a penny of the profit on their produce, a shocking imbalance considering the immense effort and risk involved in its production.”

The (intensively-produced) wool is certainly being pulled over our eyes. But, good farmers, producing top-quality food in truly free-range and organic systems without synthetic chemicals do exist – and we can choose to support that crucial 5% of our food supply chain to ensure they still do.

Here’s a few articles we’ve created, to make it as easy as possible for you to do that…

1. Read about the difference between organic, free-range and intensively produced turkey here.

2. Discover where to buy some of the best British organic and free-range turkeys here.

3. Get all the delivery dates for everything else you might need from vegan cooking kits to cheese boards here.

Or, if you prefer, here’s some links that will take you directly to farms we think are great (in no particular order).

Riverford: The Devon-based team have been paving the way in organic farming since 1986. It is employee-owned and puts farmers and animal welfare at the forefront of everything it does. It is one of the top 100 companies to work for in the UK.

Fosse Meadows: Those firmly in the turkey for Christmas camp should look to this farm in in Leicestershire, which is now in its fourth generation, and specialises in traditional free-range poultry that’s very slow grown.

Beacon Farms: Founded by three siblings with a deep rooted passion for good food and great farming, Beacon Farms is the result of generations of experience. With farmers on their mother’s side and butchers on their father’s, in 2020 they took a leap and rented a small farm of their own.

eatTelfit: Partners with small Yorkshire farms practicing regenerative farming, prioritising soil health, biodiversity, and sustainable practices. Their artisan butchery prepares slow-grown, native breeds nose-to-tail.

Abel & Cole: Especially important at Christmas, Abel & Cole’s sustainability extends to offering a range of refillable options and collecting back any rubbish, including all plastics to recycle.

Planton Farm: Every element of the farm is designed to restore soil health, enhance biodiversity, and ensure the highest standards of animal welfare. It’s a place to buy nourishing, ethically raised food, learn how it’s grown, and see a different kind of farming in action.

Helen Browning’s Organic: Helen Browning is one of the UK’s few female farmers, her work in organic has been pioneering and she has helped to shape organic farming across the UK.

Field&Flower: Works with some of the best independent West Country farms and fishers. As part of their ‘Turkey Leg Up’ campaign, they donate one pair of turkey legs for every Turkey Crown they sell this Christmas to support their charity partner FareShare South West. One pair of legs is enough to serve 2-3 vulnerable people who might not have access to a Christmas dinner.

Pipers Farm: Pipers Farm uses its platform to offer small farms access to the market and customers access to wholesome food that has been grown with a respect for nature.

The Ethical Dairy: No ethical cheese board is complete without award-winning cheese from this farm in Scotland. They are pioneers of the cow-with-calf method, allowing cows to raise their calves naturally. Plus, they are certified net-zero.

I hope you enjoyed this email. If so, please share. Truly, every share and every purchase helps!

Have a wonderful Christmas.

Main image: Beacon Farms

Growing up, Christmas swung between two styles: My mum’s version meant running downstairs in our pyjamas and tearing through gifts before we’d even put the kettle on. My dad’s version required us to get dressed, eat breakfast and, crucially, build ‘anticipation’.

Both very different beginnings, but same the outcome: gifts were a main event. They were a key way we showed love and spread happiness, for both the giver and the receiver.

My mum bought gifts for everyone – our doctor, the receptionists, my best friend whose parents didn’t prioritise gifts at Christmas (the poor child!). Actually, to this day, they both still buy a small gift for each other every year, which is very sweet.

So, when it comes to gift-giving, I’m torn. I know there are many ways to show someone you care, but I also know some people love receiving presents and it can be a joy to give good gifts!

But, what makes a good gift? Naturally, it has to be something the recipient would appreciate. That’s fundamental.

And, for me, it also has to be a product or an experience that supports well-being and dignity. I don’t avoid Amazon or Zara out of self-denial. I avoid them because it feels wrong if the joy of giving or receiving a gift comes at someone else’s expense. For me, a good gift should lift up the person receiving it and the people who make it.

So, at Live Frankly, we’ve pulled together 87 sustainable and ethical gifts for this Christmas. These are gifts you can feel brilliant about giving – the ones made fairly, thoughtfully, beautifully, by people who genuinely care. Just a few examples…

A gift from Brothers We Stand means a stylish design that supports transparent supply chains and living-wage-made clothing. Something from WAWWA directly contributes to fair pay in a Manchester workshop and organic, low-impact materials that genuinely last. If you’re looking for high-quality casual and inclusive wardrobe staples, Pitod will be your new favourite find.

Lora Gene places women’s employment and ethical production at the centre of every beautifully structured garment for women and for men. Jenerous works with Fair Trade artisans in India to create clothes that dignify makers as much as they delight wearers.

And then there’s Neve’s Bees. Julie, who founded it, used to work for corporate giants like Unilever. She had a lightbulb moment and realised how broken the industry was, and now dedicates herself to creating something radically different – 100% natural and water-free balms and skincare. I’m also always recommending Lyonsleaf to people with skin issues like eczema, their whole “Republic of Natural Skincare” philosophy means no water, no synthetic ingredients, and no BS.

What’s Christmas without chocolate? For me, this has to be single-origin L’Esterre Chocolate initially made in the Cotswolds to safeguard the future of a family farm in Grenada that has always farmed regeneratively. If you can get their chocolate, that is. Their buttons can only be made in small batches and are so good, they keep selling out. Oh, the trials of running a small business!

If more companies like these existed in the world wouldn’t it be a better place?

And if we want more companies like this to exist in the world, then we have to choose them. What better time than at Christmas? Even choosing one ethical gift this year shifts the needle – for a maker, a community, a small company trying to rewrite how business works. That’s the magic of a Christmas that’s about more than gifts!

P.S. The main image is Valentina Karellas, a personal favourite. This London-based knitwear designer creates bold pieces using surplus yarn from UK factories. Valentina crafts every piece by hand on a manual knitting machine, ensuring each piece is truly one-of-a-kind, ethical, and made to last.

P.P.S I checked with my mum before sharing this and she asked me to emphasise that Christmas was also about friends and family! So, here you go mum! 😘 Christmas was also about food. That delicious email doesn’t need my mum’s approval and is coming to you next week.

One of Live Frankly’s favourite brands, Lora Gene, has launched a beautiful menswear collection. For a limited time only, their introductory prices are up to 70% lower and they’re offering our readers an additional 20% off. Here’s the low-down, in founder Lora’s own words:

What is Lora Gene’s menswear?

Throughout the years so many people have asked us when are we going to start menswear? We finally decided to go for it. It’s a small capsule collection with a very concise offering and clear statement: to offer craftsmanship, comfort, and longevity.

Why is it on offer at the moment?

This is our first menswear collection, built on the same principles as everything we make. Clothes only become what they’re meant to be when worn. As a gesture of introduction, we’re offering it for wholesale prices. We want the clothes in people’s hands and to invite you on a journey to build something truly exceptional.

As an early customer, I know firsthand it’s a collection of genuine quality. Tell us more about the clothes…

As with our womenswear, we’ve used traditional craftsmanship techniques such as French seams and bound finishes. These details make each piece more durable and also more comfortable to wear, you’ll notice the fabric softly ‘hugging’ each seam.

The fabrics are exceptional: fine cotton pique, cashmere, naturally waxed cotton. They’re all deliberately chosen to reflect our philosophy of working with natural fibres of high quality.

Then there’s the small design touches, like a collar button that keeps the shape neat and structured. The Parkas have double cuffs, reinforced front panels and additional hidden pockets. It’s sophisticated yet feels very light and easy to wear.

And what about the ethics and sustainability behind them?

This collection is made the Gene way – through the same trusted factories and people we’ve worked with for years. Every step is handled with care and attention, not as a new promise but as part of how we’ve always done things. The certifications are there, of course, but what matters most is the integrity of the process and the many skilled hands behind it.

Live Frankly readers receive an additional 20% OFF with code: Gene20.
Shop Gene Menswear.

I’ve made a mug of builders’ tea and am sitting down to write this newsletter, because I’m sick of scrolling – and I suspect you might be, too.

I normally pride myself on not getting caught up in social media feeds and Apple News headlines. But, with everything going on at the moment and everyone having an opinion about it, it’s hard to look away. Gah! Who am I kidding? There’s always a reason not to look away…

But, I’ve realised that letting the continual news reels consume me right now is having a double-impact.

The first, is that it’s leaving me feeling exhausted, overwhelmed and paralysed when it comes to real-world action. Something along the lines of ‘I want to do something but it all feels too big’ and ‘I don’t quite know if anything I do really matters’ plus ‘It’s all a bit scary’. So, instead, I’m replacing real action, real solidarity, real allyship with reel comments, reel likes or reel shares.

At the same time, the algorithm is leading me into a false sense of security – there are more people that think like me than ‘them’, my feed reassures me. But in the real world, too many are showing up to far right rallies for that to be certain.

We are now living in what’s being called the ‘attention economy’. Our feeds, our emails, our WhatsApps are constantly demanding our attention and it’s being pulled in so many different directions online, it’s becoming near-impossible to focus on the things that can make a real difference in real life.

But, we can reclaim our attention. Rather than scrolling whatever the algorithm puts in front of us, we can be more selective about what content we’re consuming.

This concept of becoming ‘content curious’, was most recently introduced to me in a new podcast, where my brilliant friend Alex Barker interviews journalist and author Ruby Warrington.

Warrington has become more intentional about what she’s reading, watching and listening to, asking herself: How does it make me feel? What are the actions I’m taking as a result? What am I getting from it? What am I losing as a result?

Asking myself these questions got me off my feed and writing to you, instead.

Multiple times a day, the question ‘what am I getting from this?’ nudges me to close Instagram (and Apple News and Linkedin, and even my email) as quickly as I’ve opened it.

I’m not disengaging. I’m just more consciously deciding where my attention should be placed and how my time should be spent. If this idea sparks curiosity in you too, then I invite you to give 51 minutes of your attention to this podcast. It could give you back hours of your life.

I would love to hear what you do with it!

Following in her footsteps was an unforgettable experience that deepened my appreciation for her work. Now it's time to reflect on her legacy, and remember what one person does can make a difference, especially when they have the courage to think differently. - Lizzie.

It’s holiday season – kind of. From watching friends and family with kids, I realise it actually means the additional job of juggling childcare with work, plus the added pressure of trying to squeeze some time to ‘relax’ in between.

Since launching Live Frankly, five years ago, I haven’t taken a holiday. Now, before you bring the tiny violins out, I don’t have kids and I’ve been away – a lot. I’m currently writing this on a year-long digital nomad experiment (which I will write more about soon).

My laptop always comes with me. If we’re sharing a room and you wake up to pee at 6am, there’s a good chance you’ll find me sitting on the bathroom floor (so I can turn a light on without disturbing you, I’m thoughtful like that) writing an article. Time in between activities to sit and aimlessly chat? Maybe for a few minutes, but there’s an even better chance I’ll get my phone out to start scribbling ideas or responding to emails.

This is no humble brag. I now understand that while I am, so far, managing to consciously avoid being slave to the unrealistic beauty expectations social media demands of so many of my contemporaries, I fell hook-line-and-sinker for the unrealistic work expectations.

So, I’ve decided to work on that. And not just me. The Live Frankly team have all agreed to take most of August off. We are going to rest*.

I’m lucky that rest, for me, can entail travel. One of the reasons I love travel is that my perspective shifts with the landscape. I feel the pressure of every day life lift. It’s almost instant – I don’t have to go far or for long and it’s partly why I love train travel.

If you have a chance to get away, we’ve curated the UK retreats that offer a genuine opportunity to disconnect and unwind and contemplate life with a starry-sky backdrop. We’ve also given you the lowdown on each one, below 👇

If you can’t get away but yearn to rest and need permission to do so, I highly recommend this podcast. I shared it last year and it’s so good, I’m sharing it again. Here’s the official blurb: ‘The Nap Ministry’s Nap Bishop shares small, concrete ways to bring rest into our own lives – especially when rest seems impossible’. It’s truly worth trying to make some time for:

I hope you have some restful as well as great moments this summer and see you in September.

(*And, I’ll admit that I also secretly hope to give my subconscious some time to do the heavy lifting for me – as every lifestyle guru promises it will. What can I say, I’m a work in progress, I can’t turn that part of me off like a light switch! I’ll keep you updated on the results. In the meantime...)

Seven of the best UK eco-retreats

TY CWCH

An award-winning bunkhouse on the Welsh Coast for those with the spirit of adventure

The lowdown: Ty Cwch Boathouse is a contemporary, award-winning bunkhouse just metres from the sea. This sustainably built retreat offers flexible, self-catering accommodation for solo travellers or groups of up to 12 people.

Ty Cwch is made up of three cosy, sleeping pods and three fully equipped ground-floor pods that house the kitchen, sitting, dining, and utility areas. These open onto a covered deck with seating, heaters, and BBQs, blending indoor comfort with outdoor living. From launching kayaks and spotting seals to coastal walks, guests can immerse themselves in one of the most biodiverse stretches of the Welsh coast.

Prices from: £250/night for four people, plus £20 per extra person (up to 12)
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SWALLOWTAIL HILL
Eco-glamping in East Sussex

The lowdown: Set across 50 acres of wildflower meadows and ancient woodlands, Swallowtail Hill offers six eco-glamping options, including romantic cabins, off-grid cottages, and group-friendly twin retreats.

Each stay is designed for digital detox and nature connection, with activities like stargazing, woodland crafts, and conservation talks.

Prices from: £400 for a two-night stay for a family of four
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GREAT BARN FARM
Self-catering stays in beautifully restored farm buildings in West Norfolk

The lowdown: Set on a 1,350 acre arable farm, Great Barn Farm is a place where rustic charm meets modern comfort. Guests enjoy private gardens, wood burning stoves, underfloor heating, and modern kitchens made from reclaimed materials in beautifully restored farm buildings.

There’s also a luxurious indoor heated swimming pool, Jacuzzi spa and steam room, all powered by a sustainable biomass and solar energy system.

Prices from: £1,200 per week for four people (three night stays also available)
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THE SANCTUARY CORNWALL
Off-grid eco-lodge to experience the full comfort of zero-carbon living

The lowdown: Nestled in 12 acres of woodland and orchard, The Sanctuary offers a B&B, ensuite eco-lodges and a camping pod, combining zero-carbon living with comfort. With estuary views, hammocks, forest bathing, and organic breakfasts, it’s an ideal spot for mindful stays.

Dogs are welcome and EV charging is on-site.

Prices from: £95 per night for two people
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UNDER STARRY SKIES
Nature-friendly stay in the heart of Wales’ first Dark Sky Reserve

The lowdown: This off-grid retreat in Wales' first Dark Sky Reserve features two handcrafted cabins, a converted hay barn, and a new shepherd’s hut, all designed for stargazing and rewilding. Enjoy birdwatching, fire pits, and wildflower meadows, with sustainable living and scenic tranquillity at its core.

5% discount for arrivals by bike, train or EV.

Prices from: £90 per night, sleeps up to four
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FRITTON LAKE
Lakeside retreats as part of 1,000-acre rewilding project

The lowdown: Part of a 1,000-acre rewilding project, Fritton Lake features lakeside cabins, farm cottages, and Clubhouse Rooms with access to wild swimming, floating sauna, nature safaris, and more.

Meals focus on estate-grown produce, and dogs are welcome in some areas. Ideal for eco-luxury seekers wanting nature, activity, and comfort all in one.

Prices from: Clubhouse Rooms from £180 a night and Club Cabins from £990 for two nights
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BETHNAL&BEC
Luxury Stays and adult-only cabins in Herts

The lowdown: Just an hour from London, Bethnal&Bec offers three luxurious, adult-only countryside cabins with king-sized beds, roll-top baths, private hot tubs, and indulgent extras.

It’s a self-catering retreat with gourmet upgrade options and an honesty pantry. Dog-friendly and perfect for romantic escapes, spa treatments, and electric bike adventures.
Prices from: £265 per night

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Main image: Sunset from the beach by Ty Cwch

A lot of my conversations with family and friends are: “I’m using [insert product name here], because I think it’s good. But, is it really?”

Frankly, the answer is often: No. But, the marketing is so clever I can understand why they think it might be. And I never just say ‘no’. I always offer helpful suggestions of other brands to try, if I know, or the promise to look into it, if I don’t.

On which note, it’s summer and sunscreen and deodorant are not two products I’ve… actually not been asked much about! But, I should have been. Here’s why:

Sunscreen

You may or may not remember that I’m doing a lot of digital nomading, this year – which means I have spent a lot of time in the sun across Morocco and the EU. Do you know where we were caught off-guard when it comes to not being as sun safe as we should have been? The Isle of Wight, this weekend.

We feature two sunscreens in the Live Frankly Directory. The first, Shade, is a balm made of only four ingredients. How can that possibly work, you ask?! Well, we tested it.

The second, Organii, has many more ingredients, but they are pretty much all organic and extracts from fruits and plants. We tested this one, too.

Spoiler alert: both work. Here’s what else you might like to know about them.

The main point is, these are both mineral sunscreens, instead of chemical ones. They are more natural and better for your skin. Here’s a guide to what you need to know about that – plus answers to questions like: Is ‘reef-safe’ mineral sunscreen genuinely safe for reefs? How much time can you spend in the sun without burning? And Is SPF 25 high enough?

Deodorant

As I (over)share in this article, I go for most of the year without wearing any deodorant. But, in summer months I need a little more help to stay smelling fresh, especially when I’m active.

Wild Deodorant, known for their refillable deodorant, is hugely popular and often touted as sustainable. They sold to Unilever for a reported £230 million earlier this year.

So, does this make them good or bad?

Personally, when I think of a brand being natural and sustainable I don’t think of a brand that’s helping to prop up the coffers (and helping to greenwash) a huge conglomerate that’s one of the world’s largest users of plastic, has very publicly rolled back their sustainability efforts, and owns brands that are linked to human rights abuses.

I think of a sustainable and natural product as being owned by people with good values, who are creating their product with natural ingredients, ideally produced organically or with similar positive environmental benefits, and are healthy for the body who wears it.

Here’s some suggestions of brands who, I believe, fulfil those criteria. Plus, they work.

…As always, let me know what you think! And let me know if you have any unanswered questions.

On which note, I have one for you: Sometimes I write about how hard I find it hard to ‘be’ in this world of unnecessary suffering, sometimes I share a research project I have been working on, and sometimes these newsletters are about brands or products and are as light and breezy as a summer’s day on a British beach. There’s no grand plan. I just write what’s on my mind and hope it resonates. My question is, what do you prefer? Do you like the mix or would you rather more consistency or more of thing or the other?

If you have any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.

I’ve swam round in more circles than the farmed salmon I‘m writing about, these past few weeks. If you want to get straight into the article, please do. Here’s the link: Exposing organic salmon: deeper issues of farmed fish industry revealed. It tells you what you need to know about the salmon you’re putting on your plate. That’s the most important thing to read.

This newsletter? This is more a behind the scenes of how the article came about, a little context for you to understand why I’ve reached the conclusions I have, and, perhaps, a little therapy for me as I surface from the choppy waters.

Here we go…

A while ago, Abel & Cole’s sustainability advisor, Ed Ayton, told me they finally had a plan to move away from organic salmon. That’s big news. I haven’t eaten organic salmon for years because of the reasons explained in the article.

He then told me they were moving to land-based salmon farms instead of a sea-based salmon farms and that there was potentially a press trip to Iceland on the cards, so I can see it for myself and write about it. Now, normally I wouldn’t entertain the idea of visiting an industrial farm with someone I feel loyalty to, it would muddy the supposedly ‘gin clear’ waters. But, this is Ed. Of everyone I know, Ed is among those with the highest integrity. Ed is the reason I still have faith in Abel & Cole, even if at times they’ve tested that. He is worth hearing out.

Plus, last month, organic certification body the Soil Association published their 18-month review into organic salmon, in which they said they are seeking “substantial” reform or they will stop certifying organic salmon farms.

All-in-all, I think that makes a pretty interesting story and consumers will want to know the truth about the salmon they’re putting on their plates. I pitch the story to bigger publications and nobody takes the bait. So, I begin to write the story for Live Frankly.

And it gets complicated really quickly, because there’s nuance in this.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s not much nuance in salmon farming. That’s an intensive system whichever way you cut it – organic, conventional or land-based.

But, the issue is bigger than the organic salmon side of things. Organic represents less than 10% of the salmon industry, which as whole is much more problematic. Organic shouldn’t be the scapegoat for that. I don’t want people to come away from reading my article thinking they ‘knew’ that organic couldn’t be trusted – because in many instances it can and that’s not the point of the article.

Also, although I’m not convinced about land-based salmon farming, I understand that salmon is one of Abel & Cole’s biggest revenue streams. They need to provide customers with an alternative. If the choice were between organic sea-farmed salmon or non-organic land-based farmed salmon, I would opt for the latter right now.

But, there is a third option on the table – to choose neither. The challenge is, how likely are people to actually choose not to eat farmed salmon? This means the choice is also between Abel & Cole choosing to sell land-based salmon and continuing to exist or Abel & Cole refusing to sell any farmed salmon and putting their business – and the livelihoods of many sustainable farmers and producers that sell through their platform – at risk. Like, I say, nuance.

So, I speak with Abel & Cole, the Soil Association and WildFish, a charity who have been campaigning against farmed salmon for around 20 years. Behind the scenes, I speak to experts in seafood for their off-the-record views. I reach out to three organic salmon farms and don’t hear back from any of them.

And, I start to write. I like to write because as the article takes shape I can cut through the noise, including my personal biases, and feel what’s honest.

It feels honest to ask if any of us truly believe that taking salmon out of their natural environment and farming them in energy- and water-intensive systems can ever lead to anything good?

If we don’t believe it can, we could ease the pressure on salmon by eating a wider variety of the 150 different species of fish that can be landed sustainably off the British coastline by small boats every day – and occasionally treat ourselves to wild Alaskan salmon.

But, probably, we won’t do that.

More likely, we’ll switch to buying salmon farmed on land-based systems, which sound better. And they will be for a while because at least the issues are contained in the tanks and not spreading to the wider marine environment. Until demand grows and the companies start to scale at the cost of the environment. At which point another campaigning organisation will set up to highlight how harmful the system is, and eventually we will listen and be shocked by the revelations and say “I didn’t know”… and most will carry on buying the salmon, anyway.

If you don’t want to do that here’s the article on salmon I really want you to read today. Once you read it, you won’t be able to say “I didn’t know”. But, we’d love for you to say what you think, let us know in the comments below.

Our whole ethos is talking ‘frankly’ and, honestly, this is what it has felt like to run Live Frankly over the past five years…

This video is of me, kitesurfing this morning.

Well, trying to.

Well, learning to.

When learning to kitesurf, the first thing to master is the kite. I’ve spent the past few weeks trying to learn how to control the kite. But, you need to contend with the wind, which keeps changing speed and direction, seemingly on a whim.

Then you have to control the kite with one hand while trying to put the board on with the other. I find this part especially hard. At first, I blamed myself for struggling so much. Then, I wondered if the boards were designed for men and not women. I suggested this to multiple people (guys) and each time the idea was dismissed. Then I googled it and found this probably is a factor I’m contending with. This knowledge doesn’t change the reality of the situation, but it changes how I feel about it and also how I approach the board.

And then there are the waves.

They knock me over. They drag me under. They carry my board far away from me when I’ve flown in one direction and my board has gone in the other. They go up my nose. The salt burns my throat.

There’s lots of tension in kitesurfing. You need tension to control the direction of the kite. But, too much and you fly across the waves before crashing headfirst into the water. Too little and you sink. You need to push the handlebar away from you to release tension. This is counterintuitive. When you're moving too fast, the thing you most want to do in the world is to hold on tighter, which is akin to pulling the handlebar and increasing the tension.

At these points I ask myself: “Why? Why am I doing this?”

Then, I ask myself: “Why not?“ and get back on the board.

“You have a lot of patience,” the teachers tell me. I don’t. I always want to run before I can walk. But, I do have determination and tenacity. I get knocked down and I get back up. And 90% of the time I do so with a smile on my face. “I’m OK!“ I shout as I surface from under the water before getting swept off my feet by yet another oncoming wave. I can’t talk this time; I’m spluttering and trying to breathe. So, I put my arm high in the air with a thumbs up. I regain my footing. “You f*cker,” I say to the departing wave.

The team. Oh, I love working with a great team. Sometimes they hold the board. Sometimes they hold the kite. Once, I had to hold onto the back of one of them while they used the kite to bodydrag us both back to the shore.

“Push don’t pull!” they remind me, again.

I push! We high-five.

That feeling – the one when all the parts align and you’re flying across the waves. The moment when you realise how good it is, and get a taste for how much better it can be.

And that pretty much sums up everything you need to know about being female and running a start-up impact business.

Happy 5 years to Live Frankly! ❤️

P.S. I’ll write an actual post about the business another time, if you’d like. This just felt a more fun way to celebrate our birthday than a “five things I’ve learned” post. No offence, ChatGPT.

Where it started…

I shared the study below on LinkedIn a couple of weeks ago, for International Women’s Day. It received immediate pushback.

I found this interesting because not one of the commentators disagreed with the findings of the study I was sharing, in fact they pretty much all said: “This is true for me, but…“, then they took umbridge with the way the study was conducted or framed.

The other thing I found interesting upon reflection, once I’d stopped questioning my judgement, was that I’d written about the limitations of the study in my post but I’d forgotten to link to the full report .. So, I’m not sure how many of these people genuinely looked for and reviewed the study or how many used it as an excuse to legitimise other frustrations felt when reading the post.

The irony that this post was about the “invisible load” or “mental load” that many women carry, and then people expected one of the first studies in this area to be flawless as well as tone-policed to make palatable (two expectations that are typically more demanded of women than men) was not lost on me.

I messaged one of the commentators privately and they shared that they came from a place of knowing some men who are also struggling at the moment, and I want to acknowledge this, too. Modern life is overwhelming and demanding for many of us. But, we can’t disregard or discredit the (largely) female experience because of this. We have to find a way to hold of all these truths – and work together to make it better for us all.

Slowly, as the post sat on my LinkedIn page, the comments started changing to reflect this. Barely a day goes by now when it doesn’t receive a like from some woman (predominantly), somewhere, which gives me a sense of connection. I hope they feel seen.

Personally, I don’t think I’ve seen a graphic that illustrates the invisible load more clearly than the one I shared in that LinkedIn post. For me, it rings true. So, I’m sharing here in a way that hopefully calls us all in, as a gift for anyone for who it does resonate, this Mother’s Day…

The study:

So, let’s get to the point: The study! What was it!? Well…

The graphic above, shares the results of a study from the Fair Play Institute showcasing not only the division of the domestic labour but also, importantly, the effort of anticipating, planning, or coordinating such tasks and ensuring that they get done. (What a delicious sentence, I love that it acknowledges the mental load for anticipation!)

This is something many in my circles know to be true, but it’s so hard to prove. Which is why this study excited me.

Honestly, it was a limited study that involved giving 500 participants (US-based, mainly white, educated women) cards that represent both the planning and execution of a range of responsibilities. They used the cards to quantify and visualise their respective domestic labour.

It found:

*For 29 out of 30 tasks: mothers reported greater responsibility than their partners for the cognitive labour

*For 28 out of 30 tasks mothers reported greater responsibility than their partners for the physical household labour

*Taking out the garbage was the only task for which fathers/partners were responsible for both the cognitive and physical labour

*Home maintenance was the only other task for which fathers/partners were responsible for the physical labour (but not the cognitive)

…And, as I mentally go through the list ticking off who holds the mental load for what in my relationship, I find this resonates for me. Does it for you!?

Why is this important? Well, the study explored how this division relates to mothers’ mental health and well-being. Mothers that are taking on the planning work load have overall worse mental health, unsurprisingly with more symptoms of exhaustion, overwhelm and burnout.

It matters because now we are starting to bring the invisible load into view, we can move on from discussing if this is an issue (Oh! The ‘discussions’ I’ve had with my husband about this and, I repeat, we don’t even have kids!!) to what we do about this issue.

This matters because this Mother’s Day we can give the gift to each other of seeing this graphic not necessarily as pitting mothers against fathers or partner against partner, but as a team that isn’t functioning optimally. And change it. As a friend commented on the post:

“My husband and I have actually used the Fair Play book and cards in the past to map out who does what to keep our household going and what needs to happen for both of us plus two kids to live a relatively satisfied and balanced life. [It] was SUCH a valuable exercise.”

So I’m sharing this post today, because I really feel that the gift of acknowledging the load exists is one of the greatest gifts we can give. If we do this, then, together, we can aim not just to share it, but to reduce it.