meeks

Dragons’ Den is back on our screens tonight, and for the first time ever, the number of female Dragons outnumbers the males.

A Dragons’ Den star has a surprising link to Love Island.

The BBC programme is returning to screens tonight, and for the first time ever, the number of female Dragons outnumbers the males.

Following the departures of Touker Suleyman and Sara Davies from the beloved BBC show, a string of guest Dragons, including Gary Neville and Tinie Tempah, have joined regulars Peter Jones, Steven Bartlett and Deborah Meaden in the Den.

After a months-long break, the series is continuing with new episodes from Thursday, August 20.

Joining Peter, Steven and Deborah in the Den, North East businesswoman Jenna Meek and The Apprentice star Susie Ma are returning as investors, reports Chronicle Live.

After making her debut on Dragons’ Den earlier this year, Jenna was supported by her followers as she wrote on social media: “The secret is out… Your newest Dragon.

“Been manifesting this one for a long time and it still doesn’t feel real that it actually happened. It has always been a massive goal of mine to be on Dragon’s Den – it was this show (and Deborah sorry other Dragons haha) that inspired me from day one to want to be an entrepreneur.

“I used to watch this show all the time and would dream to pitch on it one day, never mind be a dragon beyond grateful for this incredible opportunity, it pushed me to new limits and had so much fun doing it.

“The most incredible incredible experience and so grateful for the amazing crew and all the incredible dragons who made me feel so welcome.”

Who is Jenna Meek?

Jenna is the co-founder and CEO of beauty brand REFY.

Since its launch in 2020, the company — which Jenna co-founded alongside influencer Jess Hunt — has grown into one of the UK’s fastest-rising beauty brands, boasting an annual turnover exceeding £40m.

Prior to REFY, Jenna held positions at Burberry and Rebecca Minkoff, and set up festival beauty label Shrine from her bedroom at just 20 years old.

First known as The Gypsy Shrine, the company popularised peel-and-stick face and body gems and biodegradable body glitters, with Jenna even visiting the Love Island villa to decorate the likes of Olivia Attwood and Montana Brown in her products for a glitter party.

She previously told Mail Online: “We were just brainstorming and thinking of new ideas. I was like, ‘Let’s get on to Love Island’.”

She continued: “It was so crazy. I had nearly given up but my mum was like, ‘don’t let me down on this’, I had to figure it out and I kept pestering I guess.”

She went on to recall: “Kem [Cetinay] wanted [a lot of glitter], he was like ‘Do this do this!’ I had to tell him, ‘No we’ll keep it silver otherwise you are going to look like an idiot on TV!’”

The 33-year-old has firmly established herself within the industry, earning recognition in The Sunday Times beauty rich list and Forbes’ 30 under 30 list in 2022.

Jenna’s net worth is thought to be in the region of £52m.

Dragons’ Den airs from 8pm on BBC One and iPlayer.

Wrestling with the realities of drug addiction is an endeavor rife with pitfalls for any filmmaker hoping to avoid easy judgment. To judge from the earliest, straight-on view in “Union County” of Will Poulter’s Cody — a weary-looking, tight-lipped young Ohio man absorbing the rules of a treatment program as explained by a courtroom judge — the sense is that we’re in for a ride-along hinged to honesty and the unfettered character work of a fine actor.

That empathy is welcome from first-time writer-director Adam Meeks, and he supports his approach with a gentle aura of verisimilitude, a mostly locked-down camera and, in the snippets of other testimonials, a suggestion that we’re in genuine spaces, not movie locations. Eventually, as the film tracks Cody’s progress through this rural stretch of central Ohio, it becomes clear we’re in a fictionalized story surrounded by real recovery participants and counselors, a backdrop of sincerity that allows a well-intentioned performance to breathe on its own.

That unaffected authenticity helps gird us for the quietly complicated tale “Union County” has to tell. Cody, who is living in his car when we meet him, isn’t alone as he starts this journey. Also in that courtroom that first day is his brother Jack (Noah Centineo), a more visibly restless and outgoing soul compared to Cody’s protective reticence. Jack, who is further along in the program and seems to bring Cody out of his shell, also helps him land a job at a lumber mill where he works. Tagging along to a campfire hang, Cody allows himself to talk to Anna (Elise Kibler) and we notice a potential spark.

But with that connection to Jack, initially forged as foster siblings but later as opioid buddies, comes risk. There’s a sister, too, played by Emily Meade, and her stone-faced appearance during a backslide in Cody’s recovery is a sign that with his past comes a lot he hasn’t faced yet. But as we learn more about Cody, Jack and the hard road ahead, “Union County” doesn’t pitch its treatment as a cure-all, nor engineer candidness into dramatic gold. Rather, Meeks merely asks us to clock the humanity in our every minute of observing Cody, to recognize what struggling looks like whether we “know” someone going through it or not.

Necessary to that approach, which brings to mind the watchful grace of last year’s stellar memory drama “Familiar Touch,” is the wonderful Poulter’s lived-in presence as someone trying to not even have a presence. Meeks knows when and where to give his lead character distance, respecting that opacity. In group sessions, where Cody typically doesn’t say much, the others speak for what Cody might be going through, Greek chorus-style. The effect is of watching someone float around the outside of a safe space. There’s tension in wondering if he’ll notice when it’s time to slip inside.

Social realist dramas aren’t new and they include award-winning landmarks by Ken Loach and Chloé Zhao. But they’re having a moment and “Union County” underscores why some work as well as they do. The right mix of true and imagined can give the simplest of humane narratives — in this case, the possibility of renewal in an epidemic of hurt — a fresher chance to touch us.