share on
Former KISS 92 DJ Maddy Barber has traded early-morning call times for bespoke love stories. In an intimate, in-person conversation with Sarah Gideon, the MADLY founder reflects on knowing when to leave a dream job, reshaping a traditional luxury industry on her own terms, and why every jewel she creates is really a time capsule of who you are.
From commanding the airwaves to crafting gems that tell a lifetime of stories — Maddy Barber’s journey from beloved radio DJ to founder of Singapore’s award-winning bespoke jewellery house is as colourful as the gemstones she champions.
In an in-person conversation with Sarah Gideon, she opens up about the moment she knew it was time to hang up the headphones, what it really means to build a legacy in a traditional luxury industry, and how she leads with brutal honesty and deep empathy.
Q Your early life was split between a microphone and a jewellery box. What was the moment when you realised you were ready to break away from broadcasting and pursue something entirely your own?
I had the great fortune of really loving both jobs. I would say equally – maybe not always at the same time, sometimes I loved one more than the other – but in general, how do you complain about either job, right?
I’m also very, "go with the flow". I try not to overthink things, especially when you’ve got a really good thing going. So even though I knew that maybe, one day, the business might give me the opportunity to run it full time – be my own boss, [at] my own time, that kind of thing – I never sat down and planned, 'Okay, when is my exit?' I just thought, it’s a great backup… but to call it a backup also diminishes what it really is.
So, I felt like I had two great things going, and I told myself that as long as I was having fun and doing good work on both fronts, I’d just keep going until I couldn’t anymore.
I was always telling people, 'Yeah, I’m going to leave one day. One day I’ll have to leave and run MADLY and give it my all.' I said it for years, until one colleague finally said, 'Didn’t you say it was last year? And then it was this year…' And I was like, 'I don’t know, whatever will be, will be.'
Then one day, I was doing the show – this was after Arnold and Jason had left – and I was still having fun, but it was just not the same. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying it; it was just different. And for some reason, that day it just dawned on me: I’ve done my best shows. It’s never going to be that again. I think I’ve given it my all, and it’s time to let it go and really focus on one thing.
And that focus, to me, is bliss. It’s a luxury. Having done so many things for so long, it’s a luxury to just focus on one thing, be in one place and breathe, because I was always running around. So I thought, 'You know what? That’s the sign.'
I’m a person of faith, and I really believe life is full of waiting rooms and in-betweens. They teach us perseverance and patience. Every year you think, 'Maybe this is the year', and sometimes it’s not. But when you ask and pray, and you don’t yet take the step, you also ask, 'Can you show me when the time comes?'
And it’s usually years; it’s never a quick one. It just settles into you. Suddenly, one day, you wake up with a conviction and you just know: now is the time.
That’s what it was with MADLY and leaving radio – just knowing it was time to hang up the headphones. People think you hang up the headphones and drive into the sunset. It’s not like that. It’s just closing one chapter, moving on to another, but knowing you did your best and never have to look back.
Q What was the toughest part of making that switch, and what was the most rewarding?
I actually don’t think the switch itself was tough at all, because I was already doing it. It wasn’t a complete switch. I was running the business while doing my full-time job at the same time, and that was the taxing part.
My day started really early – 4 or 5am – and didn’t end until the shop closed at 7pm. I was always running around and the hours were very long. That period was difficult.
By the time I actually switched, I had already eased into my other role. It’s like when you’re already working up towards a sprint, and then someone finally lets go of your leash – boom, and off you go.
That’s what it felt like. I felt free. My theme song then was Oasis’ Whatever – "I’m free to do whatever…" I played it every day on repeat because that was exactly how I felt. Finally, I’m free. Not that I felt trapped on radio, but for the first time in 10 years I was free to just do one thing. That kind of focus is freedom. It’s very liberating.
But I’m also very clear. You see it, for example, with boy bands. They go solo, they have all this freedom, and then they crash and burn because they reject everything the band was. 'I hated my time there, they were all a**holes', and so on. But if you didn’t have that boy band, you wouldn’t have a solo career. It’s the same for me.
I look at radio and I never talk down on it, because every moment – good and bad – led me to where I am today. I’ve had bad radio moments as well; it’s not all good. But it’s given me everything I have. So yes, I feel free, but there’s no bitterness looking back. Don’t look back in anger – I’ve got a soundtrack for everything in life!
Q As a female founder in a traditionally conservative luxury industry, what barriers have you had to break — both internally and externally — and what advice do you have for women challenging norms?
The big thing is: it takes time. It really does come back to waiting and patience.
If you go in with a chip on your shoulder – 'I’m a woman, these men are going to give me a hard time, I’d better come in like a wrecking ball' – you’re not going to get anywhere. These people can be your allies or your enemies. And this isn’t even about male-female; I think it’s true anywhere you go, whether it’s a workplace or even your home. People can either be allies or enemies. In the workplace, especially, you’ll have more impact if they’re your allies.
Pride is also a huge thing. People think pride is just 'Oh, you look good, you’re very proud'. That’s not it. Humility is really about getting rid of your pride enough to say, 'Yes, I may see things differently, but I may not know better. My way is not tested yet. I just have a different perspective that I think could be better.'
But in a conservative industry, norms have been around for a really long time. You can’t say yours is better when it’s untried and untested. At the same time, they could benefit from some change. Luxury jewellery, especially, is extremely traditional. Traditional jewellery can be very boring.
So when you challenge norms, you must also respect what the forefathers – and the people before you – have done, and the path they’ve forged. That’s really important.
For example, I’ve recently had this resurgence of appreciation for vintage jewellery. People always ask me, 'Do you only wear MADLY?' And I say, 'No, I wear MADLY and vintage.' I really appreciate the artisanship of before.
Because I deal with gemstones and I love colour, I used to put gems on everything and didn’t focus very much on jewellery that was "just" gold. But now, with gold so expensive, there’s this trend where a lot of beautiful antique pieces – chains, bangles – are being melted down for the gold value. All this artisanship and craftsmanship is just lost.
So I’ve taken it as my small part to "save" them – repurposing, buying, reworking these vintage chains or bangles into new MADLY pieces. And when you really compare them, you realise we could never produce work like that today. Modern chains are machine-made. You might look at a photo and think they’re the same, but when you touch and feel an antique piece, it’s different. Every link was handmade by incredibly skilled craftsmen who took their time and had so much pride.
So yes, we challenge, but we also honour traditions. I think we’re much better with some old and some new, not just saying, 'Out with the old, in with the new'. Old has been there for a long time, and there must be something good in it to have stood the test of time.
It’s about how you marry the old with the new, the traditional with the modern. That’s what I’ve always tried to do, and I’ve seen the beauty of that at MADLY.
Q Your leadership style is built on transparency and 'no fluff'. Have there been moments where this directness fundamentally changed your team, your culture, or even you as a leader?
I think it changes both sides. We both need each other.
Employees need a good boss to lead and make decisions – to worry about the things they’re not paid to worry about, like paying salaries on time. The boss needs the employees because without them, you don’t have a company and you can’t realise your vision. Change has to come from both sides.
The people who’ve worked under me have changed me greatly. If you speak to any of my former producers, they have many crazy Maddy stories. I came from a time – the 80s – when it was "cool" to say whatever you wanted because, 'I’m frank and I’m direct.' People said it with so much pride.
But bluntness and directness without thought or care for the other person is just bluntness and rudeness. I came from that era of 'take it or leave it. If you can take it, you’re strong.' So, I was very hard at the beginning. Thankfully, they still loved me and I loved them. I always came from a good place.
But that’s the thing: you can’t always use 'it comes from a good place' as an excuse. Yes, my producers understood that there was a reason and I could explain why I flew into a rage. But also, it’s true that I didn’t need to rage. I might’ve been valid in being upset, but I didn’t have to explode.
One big turning point was with my producer, Irene. I hate it when people don’t answer me. If I say, 'Okay, I think we should do it this way because this way is better', I’m hoping you’ll help me do this.' Don’t go silent. If you agree, say, 'I agree'. If you don’t, tell me, challenge me, give me a solution. Many people tend to go silent, and that was a huge issue for me. It made me even crazier because I’d start talking more, trying to get an answer, trying to figure out what they were thinking.
There were a lot of tears in those days. Then one day, Irene came to me and said, "You know what I realised? I should verbalise when I’m thinking, and I don’t. We communicate in such different ways. I should say, 'I’m thinking, I’m processing, give me a minute.'"
When she verbalised that, everything changed. If she said, 'Give me a minute', I didn’t feel the need to go, 'Agree? Don’t agree?' and over-explain. That really changed our working style and helped me a lot with more introverted staff down the road. Now I know exactly why people go quiet – it’s not necessarily disagreement or disrespect; they’re processing.
If only one side changes, it does no good. The person who puts in the effort gets angry and bitter. But when both sides adjust, it’s incredibly powerful. You can move forward together.
Again, it comes back to embracing differences instead of fighting over them. The world is fighting over differences now – politics, ideologies, everything. But we are different. That’s what makes the world tick.
Q You often talk about jewellery as a personal legacy — little time capsules of emotion. How does this philosophy shape the way MADLY designs for each client?
Apart from design skills – and at MADLY, designing is not a hobby, our designers are trained and have spent years on their craft – I think the most important thing we give is time.
As you get older, you realise time is the most valuable thing you can give anyone. It’s the one thing you give that you can never take back. Money you can earn back. If you take my money or cheat me of money, it doesn’t matter; I’ll earn it again. But time? You can’t earn time back.
So when someone takes the time to come to you – even if, in the end, they don’t buy anything – the experience they have is very important. I always tell my team this. In the early years, I saw that when someone had a really good experience and knew we were sincere, they’d tell their friends. Maybe they weren’t ready to buy, or we didn’t have what they wanted, but their friends would come back and say, 'So-and-so recommended me.' That happened a lot.
It gave me a whole new perspective on running a business. The end game is not the sale; the end game is the experience and the relationship.
People always say luxury is about the experience, but it’s often said very loosely. Customers think, 'So I’m paying extra for that experience?' That’s not what we mean. Experience, to me, is how you’re treated, how your piece is made, the ingredients that go into it. You should get something better at the end – in quality, not just a logo. It shouldn’t be all hype and no substance.
In luxury, especially, time is everything. It’s not, 'Okay, I closed the sale, bye.' Someone may come back three times just to look at a stone before deciding. They may sit with you for three hours instead of thirty minutes. It’s draining. They ask the same questions: 'Do you think I should get this stone? What’s so great about it?' My staff will sometimes say, 'Wah, so tiring, she’s so indecisive.'
Of course we’re human; we feel that. But I always try to give them a fresh perspective: It’s a lot of money. This could be their first big purchase. Your first big purchase deserves more than a couple of hours. If you need more than two hours or even two days, you take it. We want them to feel good about their decision. If they don’t, we don’t want them to regret it later.
In any relationship, giving someone the time of day is everything. So that’s really what it boils down to: giving them what is most valuable to you – your time – as well as your gems and your craft. Listening to what they want, taking the time to absorb, process, sketch, then communicating with them over WhatsApp, over days, weeks, months. Then taking the time to communicate with our craftsmen to realise that vision.
That’s how we do it. It’s worth the time.
Q Being a founder often means being the face of the brand. Have you ever struggled with visibility, identity, or imposter syndrome along the way — and how did you break that barrier?
Fortunately, because of my background, I’ve never had those issues. Visibility, imposter syndrome – no. And I’m going to own that.
But in today’s business landscape, that confidence can actually work against you. Let me explain.
You see a lot of founders, especially early on, jumping on video, talking to people, putting themselves out there. They were willing to express themselves and their brand. For me, because I’d always had the good fortune of being able to express myself and be heard, I got lazy about it. I didn’t feel the urgency.
So you never really saw me doing videos talking about my business much. I kind of hated it. I always thought, 'Let the world do the talking.' But business doesn’t really work like that anymore.
A lot of people would say, 'You never use your skills to promote your business.' Sure, I did talks, but I never really got on video and did all that. Because I’d always had that outlet, I didn’t feel the need to tap it for MADLY. Now I realise I have to.
That said, I don’t struggle with imposter syndrome. It’s not like it was handed to me; I’ve worked hard, I’ve paid my dues. I just do what I can, and I’m okay with that.
Q What advice would you give to someone struggling with visibility or imposter syndrome?
Pride seeps into everything. I think it often comes down to that, and to asking for help.
Most people have been doing things a certain way for so long that, even when it gets harder, they don’t want to ask for help. For a lot of struggling artists, for example, it’s a personality thing. It takes different personalities to do different jobs. That’s why I don’t do the drawing – I’m not artistic in that way.
I guess I’m creative, but I’m more of a professional yapper. I express myself and my creativity through spoken words. I can’t write. I really need help. I use ChatGPT to help me grammar-check and phrase things. I’ll just brain-dump my thoughts and it’s a big jumbled mess, and then ChatGPT helps me structure it. I’ve no shame saying I need help.
We’re all good in different areas. And usually, what I’ve noticed is: true artists – whether it’s a carpenter, a craftsman, a designer – are not the self-promoting sort. Ask them to get on Instagram and they’re like, 'Oh God, do I really have to?' They don’t even know where to begin. It’s not who they are. That’s why they need help.
They need someone – a partner, a daughter, a friend – to help put the word out and publicise their work. Because it’s very hard to stand there and say, 'I’m really good. I’m a great designer. I’m a great carpenter. You should hire me.' It’s so much more powerful for someone else to say, 'He’s a really good carpenter. She’s a really great designer. You’ve got to try her.'
So, my advice is: ask for help. Find that person who can be your fan, your ambassador, your mouthpiece, your PR person.
And then ask yourself honestly: Am I being prideful? Is pride my downfall here? Which area am I being prideful in that’s causing this issue?
There’s that saying, 'Better the devil you know.'
"Most people would rather stay in the same situation they’ve been in for years than muster the inertia to try something new. But until you do something different, things aren’t going to get better – they’ll probably get worse."
You don’t persevere in exactly the same direction if it’s not working. You persevere, but you also ask, 'Where am I going wrong?' and adjust.
If you can eliminate even a bit of that pride – easier said than done, I know – a lot of things come to light. And then it becomes easier to ask for help, try a new approach, and step into visibility in a way that suits you.
Q To end on a light note - if gemstones had personalities, which one would describe you best — and why?
It’s the spinel.
I’m a late bloomer. I value character over perfection, and I love colour and individuality over conformity. Spinel is all of that.
For the longest time in history, spinel has lived in the shadow of its more famous cousin, corundum – the mineral family that ruby and sapphire belong to. Structurally, in layman’s terms, their "DNA" is almost a carbon copy except for one element. So they’re cousins.
Many of the most famous rubies in history – like the Black Prince’s Ruby, the Timur Ruby – all turned out to be spinels. They still call them rubies; the name never changed. Spinel never really got the credit.
But when you really look at a spinel, it’s actually much prettier. It’s more sparkly, usually cleaner, and it has what we call "fire" – when you look into it, you see sparks of different colours, like fireworks inside the stone.
The spinel basically started my career as a jeweller. I loved it so much; it spoke to me in so many ways.
It’s also a late bloomer. Only recently has it had a resurgence. In the last 10 years or so, prices of spinel have increased exponentially. People are finally really interested in it. That’s very much like me. I’m a late bloomer. My career didn’t follow a straight, direct path. I took quite a few detours and started over more than once.
When I came back from Thailand in my 40s, I had to start again from the bottom of the rung in radio. I started as a part-timer again. So I had to restart. I’d been doing radio for a long time, but I only had real success at KISS 92. Before that, I was under many different bosses who just saw me as a pebble. I was a spinel waiting to be polished.
It just takes one master craftsman to see the potential in that gem and go, 'You know what? This could be beautiful.' They pre-form it, shape it, polish it, and suddenly it’s sparkly.
So yes, definitely the spinel. And it comes in a myriad of colours – vibrant, multi-faceted, multi-coloured – which is exactly what I love about life, about humans, and about gemstones.
Lead image / Provided
share on
