At 14, I was armed with a simple but powerful idea: turn my £5 weekly pocket money into something way bigger. I wanted video games—those cost about £30 each back then, which felt impossible with my small allowance. Somehow, I hit on the idea of buying multipacks of Coca-Cola and Walkers crisps from the local supermarket and reselling them at school. The goal? Double my money.
What made this work was not just the snacks, but which snacks. The real winners were the ones parents wouldn’t buy their kids—Red Bulls, energy drinks, Chupa Chups lollipops, and all the naughty treats that made school life a little sweeter. I learned early that there’s a real market for things people can’t get elsewhere.
I quickly found pricing wasn’t one-size-fits-all. I charged different prices for different customers, feeling out the highest price each would pay without running them off. This simple price testing helped me squeeze the best margins while keeping people happy. It was like market research without spreadsheets.
The moment I knew I was onto something was when, every morning at school, I’d have 4-5 kids waiting for me—money in hand—eager to find out what goodies I brought that day. The demand was real, and it was buzzing.
My parents? They had no clue. I hid the hustle and the cash, stashing both carefully. When they eventually found out, my mum was shocked and not thrilled I’d kept it secret. My dad, though—being a businessman himself—was proud. He told me seeing him run his own business without a boss had shown me that anyone could make money if they got creative.
Daily, I’d leave school 20 minutes early to hit the supermarket and restock. I bought sale items to keep things fresh and exciting, making my backpack a treasure chest of snacks and drinks. Most of my stock sold before school even started, but the anticipation made people want to come back day after day.
School canteens were no competition. They pushed fruits and low-calorie stuff—boring for kids who wanted a treat. I offered the stuff parents said no to, and that gave me the edge.
There were no real rivals at first, but trouble came when the school introduced lockers. I kept stock there for convenience, but some older kids broke in and stole everything. I was devastated but learned an important lesson: protect your assets. I confronted the thieves, and though I didn’t “win” the fight, I earned a reputation for standing my ground. From then on, if you messed with me, you knew I’d fight back.
This hustle wasn’t just about money—it was my first crash course in business. I learned about pricing, supply and demand, inventory management, negotiation, and reputation. And the best part? I had fun, made friends, and earned a tidy little income.
Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing. It set the foundation for everything that came after and gave me confidence to trust my own ideas—and question authority. After all, if I could build a £1 snack empire at 14, what else was possible?
