Stacey Dooley - On the Front Line with the Women Who Fight Back

In the 10 years she has been making documentaries, Stacey Dooley has reported on a huge variety of topics, from sex trafficking in Cambodia, to Yazidi women fighting back in Iraq. At the core of her reporting are incredible women in extraordinary and scarily ordinary circumstances from sex workers in Russia to survivors of domestic violence in Honduras.

In her first book, Stacey draws on her encounters with these brave, bold and inspiring women, using their stories as a vehicle to explore some of the issues at the center of female experience. From gender equality and domestic violence, to sex trafficking and sexual identity, Stacey weaves these global strands together in an exploration of what it is to be a woman fighting back in the world today.

Grierson Award nominee Stacey Dooley is one of the UKs most loved documentary presenters. She has explored the dangerous world of child pornography in Japan, investigated the missing indigenous girls of Canada, met the supporters of the DUP and gone undercover in the growing criminal world of Britain's digital drug dealers.

Most recently, Stacey has travelled to Iraq to present a follow-up to the critically acclaimed documentary, Stacey Dooley on The Frontline: Guns, Girls and ISIS.

Stacey lives in Brighton with her boyfriend Sam and their bulldog, Bernie.

For my mother, the first impressive woman in my life

Its ten years since my mum picked up the leaflet and brought it home. It said, Do you like fashion? Do you like travel? Do you like shopping?

Tick, tick, tick I answered yes to all the questions.

If you do, give this number a call.

I called the number, not sure what to expect. I just saw your advert, can you let me know what the story is?

Yes, a researcher told me, were a production company and were looking for six young consumers who are obsessed with fast, throwaway fashion.

That was me. Back then I used to work hard, save up all my wages and go down to the Arndale at the end of the week, where I would buy as many clothes as possible with no real thought about what I was buying and who had made it.

Were making a documentary about where your clothes come from and the consequences of your shopping, the researcher went on. The process will take you to India, where youll see for yourself how the garments are made and perhaps try making some yourself. What do you reckon to that?

It sounds awesome! I said. The only place outside Europe Id been was New York.

Then I had a moment of panic. I had just turned 19 and had no experience of how telly works. Wait, I dont think Ill have the money to go, I thought.

Would I have to pay? I asked.

Oh God, no, we will take care of all the costs, she assured me.

OK, cool!

So, why dont I come to your house and have a chat about it? she suggested. We can have a look at your wardrobe and take things from there.

Yes, no sweat, I said. Ill swap shifts with someone and get the day off.

I was working at Luton Airport at the time, selling perfume in duty free Calvin Klein one week, Dior the next. Id been there a couple of years and I loved it. Although it was never going to be a career, it was really easy and straightforward and I had loads of pals. I loved being with my girls.

The researcher came down on my day off. She seemed quite posh, like much of the telly crowd, to be honest. As I was showing her through my things, she said, I cant believe youve got so much stuff!

I explained that I didnt really have any outgoings, so all my earnings went on shopping and holidays. I didnt have any responsibilities. I was a baby.

She started firing questions at me. Now that I understand how telly works, I imagine she was rubbing her hands in glee at my answers, because every time I opened my mouth a soundbite popped out, unawares.

For instance, I had pair of leather Dior gloves that I obviously didnt need. Id bought them in Selfridges.

How much were the gloves? she asked.

They were 200, I said. Oh my God, thats, like, 20 a finger! I cringe now, but that was my world.

The expression on her face said, Ive just found a contributor.

When she left, she told me not to get my hopes up because there were thousands of people left to see. Realistically you probably wont be selected. Thank you for your time, blah, blah, blah.

I wasnt listening, though. Im going to India, I thought. Theres just no way that theyre not going to take me.

My mother gave me a lot of confidence as I was growing up. She went the extra mile to fuss me and tell me how brilliant and capable I was. You can achieve anything, shed say, and I believed her. She was fiercely loving and loyal.

Eventually I got a phone call saying, Youre down to the last few, but the channel have asked me to explain to you that this is really going to be quite tricky. It will be very immersive and as real and close to the workers lives as possible, so youll be spending a month in sweatshops and youll have to sleep under the sewing machines. You might see things that are quite upsetting. How do you feel about that?

Yes, no problem I can handle it, I said.

I had no idea.

They invited me along to the production company to speak to the executive producer. Walking into the office was like entering a new world, a different life. The producer had his feet on the table and was on his Blackberry throughout the meeting. There were five other people in the room asking things like, Why do you think youd be good for this? They put me through the mill.

I got a phone call a few days later saying, Wed love you to come to India. How do you feel about that?

My heart leapt. Really delighted!

The next thing I knew I was on my way to Heathrow with my bags.

I didnt have a privileged upbringing, but I was very fortunate compared to a lot of people. I was brought up in Luton and for a long time it was just me and my mother. My father is dead now, but he was never on the scene. My mum sort of knew that was going to be the case, so I didnt take his name. Thats why Im Stacey Dooley Dooley is my mothers name.

My father had his demons; our relationship was difficult and fractured. But I dont ever think, Poor me. I just feel blessed that I had my mother. She was such a great mum. She went above and beyond to make up for the fact I didnt have two parents. I was very lucky.

My mum is so badass, so rad; shes so, so lovely. Growing up, I never went without and the reason I didnt was because for a long time she had nothing nice. She sheltered me from a lot of what was going on and its only now that Im an adult that I recognise what she did for me, and how ridiculous her finances must have been. She was working really shitty jobs, doing really shitty hours for shitty money, but she did it because she was my mum. I will always be eternally grateful for that. And perhaps I dont tell her enough.

We lived in a really crap flat for a long time. We only got out of there when my mum took a photo of me in my nappy holding a mouse that Id found and sent it to the council. Then we were lucky enough to get a council house. Eventually she met a man my stepfather, Norman and they had a child, my sister. Hes been a beautiful father to her and a great influence on me so its all worked out, but it was hard for us. It was not OK for a long time. So Im not from a kind of perfect 2.4-children family setup in any way, but Im also not someone who feels hard done by. I think thats why I never try to be too judgemental and write people off.