“Good financial advice, like good music, is about reading the room.”
Before I became a financial adviser, I was a DJ. From the age of 14, I was mixing records on 1210s, running record labels and playing nights across London, Amsterdam and Ibiza. My last ever gig was a sold-out headline at Fabric – widely regarded as one of the best clubs in the world. What I learned behind the decks has stayed with me: reading people, understanding what they need in the moment, and knowing that the right mix of elements, in the right order, makes all the difference.
I came into financial services in a similarly unconventional way. I graduated with a degree in Sport and Exercise and Human Physiology, spent time as a personal trainer, and then travelled South America for a year before deciding it was time to build a career. A family connection opened a door at a wealth management firm in Canary Wharf, and something clicked. I started as a pension administrator, worked my way through to paraplanner and then qualified adviser, and haven’t looked back since.
What kept me was the same thing that drew me to personal training and DJing: the conversations. Financial advice isn’t really about money – it’s about people. Understanding what someone truly wants, what’s worrying them, and what they’re building towards. Once you understand that, the technical side becomes the straightforward part.
I now work across both wealth management and employee benefits, with a particular focus on corporate pension schemes and one-to-one pension clinic sessions. Whether I’m working with individuals on long-term financial planning, or with businesses looking to get more from their pension and benefits provision, my aim is always the same: to give clients the confidence to take action, understand their options, and feel in control of their financial future.
I’m currently working towards Chartered status – because the best advisers never stop learning. Outside of work, you’ll find me exploring Manchester’s food scene, hiking in the Peak District with friends, or down in my basement with 3,000 records and nowhere to be. The decks might have gone quiet on the professional front, but the ear for what works – and what doesn’t – is sharper than ever.