A sartorial disaster

Every opportunity has another side to the coin

I'm pretty much a sartorial disaster. Less so now than ten years ago, but still. I've always been one of those people never quite certain who they are. One week the classic Britishness in me shines through and I want to dress like John Steed from The Avengers. The next I've decided I'm the rugged sort, and dress like Bond at his country retreat. Then I'll listen to some hip hop and reach the absolute conclusion that I was, in fact, born for the street – cue the baggy jeans and the oversized t-shirt.

My friend was never confused. He was British classic crossed with Scandinavian minimalist, a path he'd forged himself, and boy did he look good. He walked around as though he owned the Milan runway, and people noticed. His blend of off-the-shelf pieces, charity-shop finds and his own tailoring was engaging enough that a few people found him on Instagram and asked whether he'd make them something too. And they'd pay.

He didn't think twice – which, in hindsight, might have been a good thing. He said yes, and he jumped. It's worked out beautifully for him, and those early days taught him something a lot of people in business still haven't learned: that you leap at the opportunity, but every opportunity also brings along some problems.

Because along with the chance to start his little fashion empire came a great heap of problems that made the whole thing, briefly, thoroughly sour. He needed a business entity. Accountancy. Insurance. A better sewing machine, new tools, a website. As the customer list grew, his ability to juggle it all shrank. He hired a virtual assistant in a far-off land. He had to learn cashflow, and all the other unglamorous measures that separate a person with a hobby from a person taking on the fashion world.

He got through it. He learned. He grew. The business took off.

But it was a lesson.

Whatever looks like an opportunity will always arrive with its own set of problems – the two are sides of the same coin. And every problem, turned over, has a seed of opportunity in it somewhere. You don't get one without the other.

In hindsight he says he wishes he'd looked at both sides before leaping. I think he's wrong about that. I suspect that if he'd properly studied the problems bundled up with the opportunity, he'd never have taken it – and he might still be selling insurance down a phone line instead of tailoring some of the best-dressed people in the country. Sometimes the not-looking is the actual gift.

Who knows. But a lot of us might do well to slow down, just for a moment, and turn the coin over before we decide, or at least take a quick peek at the other side. Some opportunities really will change your life. Others carry enough problems to cancel every bit of upside you thought you saw. Only you can tell which is which. It's worth a glance at the other side, at least – even if, like my friend, you're better off leaping anyway.