What I Wish Someone Had Told Me Before I Started Weebert’s World
A late-starting, heart-led, scrap-powered truth bomb.
Twelve months ago, Weebert’s World didn’t exist. Not properly. Not as the children’s brand it’s becoming, with robots made from scrap, stories with soul, and a mission to give children permission to play, explore, imagine and create.
Back then, I was 60 years old and scribbling stories about a little robot with copper wire hair and opera glass eyes. Andy, my husband, was welding sculptures in the workshop, turning old aircraft parts into scrap art dream machines. We weren’t “founders.” We weren’t “building a brand.” We were just following a spark, a curious, bonkers, beautiful spark.
Now? We’re pitching a stop-motion animation series. Running school outreach. Selling scrap-built sculptures. Building a universe from scratch and heart.
But oh, how I wish someone had told me a few things before I began. So if you’re a late starter, a dreamer, a parent .. or grandparent! with an idea, or a creative soul thinking, “Could I actually do this?” this one’s for you.
No one handed me a rulebook. I’ve never run a business before. I was a public sector worker, a writer, a mum, a nan, not a CEO.
But I knew why I was doing it. Because I believe in the power of stories. Because I saw something extraordinary in the robots Andy built from scrap. Because I wanted children, especially those who don’t always see themselves as “STEM kids” to fall in love with imagination.
That purpose? It’s what gets me through the wobbly days. The pitch days. The “how do I even register a trademark” days.
Your ‘why’ is your rocket fuel. Use it.
I didn’t go to business school. I went to the school of “figure it out as you go.” I’ve learned about SEIS, pitching, building a financial forecast (sort of), storytelling for investors, creating value ladders, and protecting intellectual property all in a year.
And here’s the secret: everyone I meet is a teacher. I listen. I ask questions. I mess things up and try again. And every step forward adds something solid to the foundation of Weebert’s World.
If you’re starting from zero, brilliant. Clean slate. Fresh ideas. Go build something your way.
Weebert’s World exists because of creativity. It began with Andy’s sculptures, made from Cold War spy cameras, helicopter scrap parts, and Meccano wheels, and my stories, scribbled on scraps of paper in between looking after grandkids and life.
We didn’t plan to “build a brand.” We were just being creative. But that’s what built it.
Every time I invent a new Bert, like Tweebert with her vintage propeller and bright red Helping Hands legs, or tell a story about turning boredom into an adventure, I’m reminded that this is the magic.
Don’t wait for permission to be creative. The world is hungry for it.
Weebert’s World has grown because of the people who believe in it. From fellow creatives to teachers, TV professionals to parents, LinkedIn cheerleaders, ex-forces friends, and one little girl who said, “Weebert’s my favourite robot ever.”
We don’t live near our family, but they’ve been our invisible scaffolding. Andy’s stepped back at the moment to focus on his mental health, and I support that fully, but his creative fingerprints are still on everything. Especially the robots.
Community is what makes this whole thing feel possible. Even when it feels impossible.
I was 60 when I started Weebert’s World. SIXTY! And I’m just getting started.
That’s not a limitation, it’s a superpower. I bring a lifetime of experience, compassion, resilience and proper Yorkshire common sense. I’m not here to mess around. I’m here to build something that matters.
And if you’re older, uncertain, scared, or standing at the edge of an idea that won’t leave you alone, jump. You’ve got time. And you’ve got everything you need.
We’re building the next great British children’s brand, one where robots made from scrap spark joy, adventure, and curiosity in every child who meets them.
Weebert and his sister Tweebert are more than characters. They’re companions for children’s imaginations. They’re proof that something made from “nothing” can become everything.
It’s not just entertainment. It’s legacy.
It’s not just fun. It’s future.
It’s not just stories. It’s sparks.
So here’s what I wish someone had told me before I began:
You can build something beautiful from scratch.
You can turn scrap into magic.
You can start when it feels like everyone else is already ahead.
You can lead with love.
And you can absolutely, unapologetically, do it your way.
Weebert’s World is built on scrap and heart. Yours can be too.
Love,
Lotty x
