Teenagers who spend their Saturdays working menial jobs, rather than studying for exams or hanging out with friends, end up having more successful careers, according to a review of 100 studies commissioned by the Education Endowment Foundation.
But now that we know that even the Duchess of Sussex once deemed it worthwhile to get a campus job to help her with her university fees, and also that she once worked in a frozen yogurt shop for minimum wage, we're more convinced than ever that our Saturday jobs might have been the making of us.
So, we thought it prudent (and just, you know, funny), to find out all of the most interesting, mundane and downright silly side-jobs that the ELLE team had on their way to journalism stardom.
Lena De Casparis, Barista turned Culture Director
Just like Brooklyn Beckham, I had a Saturday job at a coffee shop from the age of 15. My role at 'Madhatters Cafe' in Abergavenny (Wales) involved standing behind a little counter (in a sartorially unpleasing maroon apron), taking orders and payments, and then delivering lattes and custard slices to the friendly clientelle.
On good days, I'd be put in charge of the coffee machine and would enjoy grinding beans and foaming milk until someone ordered a layered macchiato, in which case I'd mess it up and be sent to clear a table.
Other perks of the role included endless refills of hot chocolate, and a constant supply of carrot cake. Customers were kind, understanding of the saucer filled tea I'd serve, and I enjoyed asking them about their weekends – questioning skills that inevitably came in handy as a journalist years later.
Of course, the only real joy of the job came from the hard cold cash - £40 (give or take a few tips) paid on the day, to be spent on some Lycra mini dress or a slogan tee - a habit that certainly hasn't changed.
Rachael Evans, Potato-picker turned Bookings Editor
My sister and I used to have to walk across the fields in Suffolk to the farmer's house and then get in the back of his pick-up truck to drive to the bit of the land where the potatoes were.
We would all get latex gloves to wear and have to scramble around in the mud to root out the potatoes.
I cried everyday because I hated it. The farmer paid us £4 per crate of potatoes. I'd spend the cash on a couple of Magnum ice creams.
Daisy Murray, Dance Teacher turned Digital Writer
When I was around 15, I took over my sister's position as a dance teacher's assistant. Little did I know that the actual teacher rarely showed up, so I was paid £5 to teach a class of 30+ 11yr olds every Saturday for the next couple of years.
I started off terrified the teacher would come in and scrutinise my teaching, but a few months in, I got more confident and just strolled in a little hungover and let these little girls plait my hair and ask me about boys all lesson long.
At some point the parents caught wind of this ruse, so I had to teach the children something. What I ended up teaching them to perform for the final show was the least age appropriate dance I think pre-pubescent girls have ever completed.
I sometimes bump into the girls that I taught when I go home to Cambridgeshire and they still remember my raunchy moves. Cringe.
Kenya Hunt, Shop Girl turned Fashion Features Director / Deputy Editor
I had one job during my summer break before college.
I was a shopfloor girl at a clothing store called Express, which is very much still around in shopping malls all over North America (think America's answer to River Island). That meant I spent most of my days folding up pairs of jeans and peasant tops only to watch customers come along and undo my painstakingly assembled piles, minutes after I'd neatened them up. YAWN.
Natasha Bird, private serving staff turned Digital Editor
All of my part time jobs have been in food and beverage. I've served the players their dinner at rugby clubs and, when I'd proven my F&B chops, I was even given a bar to manage yearly at Glastonbury Festival, but my early days of serving people stuff were quite eye opening.
From about the age of 14 onwards, I used to work as a serving girl, employed by various catering companies, at private parties. Sometimes this was for more glamourous events - I remember an afternoon tea at Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen's house, at the height of his Changing Rooms fame - but most of these were really grim 50th birthday parties, where old men would invariably pass inappropriate remark at the super young girl offering them an hors d'oeuvre.
George Driver, Toy Shop worker turned Digital Beauty Editor
It was the bleakest toy shop on Earth. It was run by an old couple who definitely hated each other and didn't like children at all and didn't have any children of their own.
We didn't have a licence to play music, so I had to sit in silence all day long. I used to have to mop the floors of the storage room every morning. The highlight was really just the lead up to fireworks night, because it meant we actually had some customers. My sister used to work across the road in an equally bleak shop and we used to write signs to each other saying 'Help!'
Andrew Barlow, Disney Store Guy turned Art Director
I worked as a sales assistant at the Disney Store in the Trafford Centre. Although I never made use of the free theme park tickets, and working boxing day was hell-on-earth…
Highlights included spending an entire eight hour shift driving a remote control car, and whiling away the Christmas delivery night shift with the Toy Story trilogy and an endless supply of superficially damaged Mickey Mouse shaped confectionary. Halcyon days.
Lotte Jeffs, Hair Salon Junior turned Editor
I worked in a posh hair salon on London's King's Road called Smile. This was ironic, because I spent most of the time scowling (I've got a bitchy resting face, it's not my fault!).
Every time the receptionist saw me, she would push the corners of her mouth up into a forced grin to remind me to make an effort to look less miserable. I was terrible at washing hair as I have a very short attention span and would lose interest somewhere in between shampoo and conditioner and end up splashing water over people's faces, or scalding their heads.
I ran around for rich old ladies putting pound coins in the parking meter or waking their yappy little dogs. I got paid £15 per day plus tips, which it won't surprise you to learn, were not particularly forthcoming.
Hannah Swerling, Pharmacist Assistant turned Content Director
While I was at school, I occasionally worked on Saturdays in the dispensary in my Dad's pharmacy in North Manchester's gritty Bury.
I would stand for hours processing prescriptions and making up tablet cassettes for the local nursing home – blue tablet for Tuesday morning, prink tablet for Tuesday afternoon, etc. I was rubbish at science at school and had no desire to go into medicine but the fear that I would mess something up motivated me to be extremely conscientious about my work. As well as getting paid, not killing anyone was a great reward.
