Mishcon de Reya
Location: London
Number of UK partners/solicitors: 53/92
Total number of trainees: 22
Seats: 4x6 months
Alternative seats: None
Extras: Pro bono – Pink Law Legal Advice Centre
‘Mishcon de Reya: thirteen letters to strike fear into any man’s heart…’ That may be so, but this is far more than just a divorce firm.
Mishcon da playa
The above quote from The Times’‘Slummy Mummy’ column is just one example of Mishcon’s extensive press coverage, which extends from the sublime (Sunday Times‘100 Best Companies to Work For’ survey) to the ridiculous (The Daily Star’s coverage of the imminent bankruptcy of Grant ‘Anthea Turner’s bloke’ Bovey). Trainees admit that “all publicity is good publicity to some extent,” but add that the problem with representing the likes of Heather Mills and Princess Diana in headline-making divorces is that “people think of us as a divorce firm when it’s only about 10% of what we do. So many of our clients have nothing to do with the celebrity world. Acting for celebrities isn’t really what it’s all about.” Indeed not.
Founded in a rented room in Brixton in 1937, Victor Mishcon & Co became Mishcon de Reya after a 1988 merger. Lord Mishcon was an inimitable figure who came into the office every day until his death in 2006. He also had four wives; a fact we only mention to justify using the above header. “You can’t replace someone like that,” say trainees, “but the ethos is still there. To say we’re a big family is cheesy, but you want the best for the firm. People here are dedicated to it.”
Mishcon de Reyality
Mishcon works in four key areas: family, property, corporate and litigation. The latter accounts for nearly half the firm’s turnover. Trainees confirm that clients “come to us because a letter from Mishcon scares people enough that proceedings may not even ensue.” However, “there’s something for everyone,” and aside from the main four departments there are opportunities in “spin-offs” like art law, contentious private client and immigration. “I don’t think there’s any department that wouldn’t give work to a trainee if they asked for it,” said one source, although the time you can spend in very niche departments might be limited.
The fraud group is a particularly popular destination. Contributing almost half of the litigation department’s revenue, there’s exciting work to be had that might make you feel more like a detective than a lawyer. On the cards are obtaining restraining orders, tracing wrongly transferred bank funds and travelling the country in the middle of the night to “execute search orders on different commercial and residential sites.” The firm represents companies and individuals, and has acted for HM Treasury Solicitors in connection with the forgery of a £1m will. It’s also represented a high-ranking bank official defending serious civil and criminal fraud allegations. For trainees there’s “a huge amount of client contact” and the opportunity to take on smaller matters that will often “start and finish within the span of a seat, so you are really able to own them.” Trainees can also get to grips with insolvency, financial dispute resolution and media/PR issues.
In property litigation trainees “get into the nitty-gritty of running of files” and “at the same time get exposed to large cases.” The wider property group has a great reputation among trainees, who said: “They’re so well organised in taking care of you.” Though the department has been hit by redundancies, it remains one of the largest in the firm and occupies the entire first floor of Mishcon’s West End art deco home. Property trainees have ten to 15 matters on the go at any one time, encompassing “leases, sales and purchases, licences for alteration and some involvement in the negotiation process.” The trainee’s role as a co-ordinator on bigger deals is vital and one source enthused: “Getting involved in an £18m transaction across 15 sites was nerve-wracking, but equally exciting.”
Much of the trainee experience in corporate is about “listening and learning” as “you have to wait until you’re higher up to get more responsibility.” Listings on AIM formed the bulk of the work pre-crunch, when it was “quite normal for a trainee to be verifying applications – which can be all you do for two months.” Interviewees who visited the department more recently described a variety of work including “setting up shelf companies, company filings, funds work, company takeovers, big asset sales and share sales.” Within the corporate department an employment team acts for both employers and employees, handling contentious and non-contentious work. These range from high-profile tribunals that “are being reported on daily in The Times” to drafting compromise agreements, employment contracts and handbooks.
And what of the renowned family team? It has “lots of work linked to immigration and private client,” giving trainees the chance to get to know other departments. Head Sandra Davis is reputed to be a formidable character and “a lot is expected of you.” Client contact is extensive and essentially the most important thing to get right here. The ability of Mishcon lawyers to impress and charm clients is what leads to instructions on high-profile divorces such as those of Thierry Henry and Matt Lucas (the first gay separation to reach the courts).
Your Mishcon, should you choose to accept it…
At this firm, stuffed alligators hang from the ceiling, partners have super-villain laughs and trained chimps do all the due diligence. Actually, that’s all lies, but what’s certainly true is that Mishcon is “not your average law firm.” Say trainees: “We’re an eclectic mix of people – charismatic, tenacious and flexible.” This firm unabashedly “employs characters who can use their personalities to win over clients,” and larger-than-life managing partner Kevin Gold will regularly stick his head round doors and cheerfully enquire: “How much are you billing then, sunshine?” Trainees agreed: “We’re not very stiff upper lip. There’s no expectation that you’ll say the right thing.” One added some interview advice: “Mishcon likes personality, so don’t do that thing of trying to be what you think a lawyer ought to be. You are allowed to have personality – what’s more, they will like it.” Another declared: “I couldn’t go to another firm and be the way I am.”
We encountered plenty of second careerers and unconventional trainees. The reason for this is simple: Mishcon “sells something more than just legal advice” and the focus is squarely on having “a business head as much as a law head.” A senior member of the firm says: “We are looking for that bit of entrepreneurial flair – but it’s not The Apprentice.” Lawyers here must have the ability to laugh at themselves and to wow clients with their charisma and devil-may-care wit. The client-lawyer relationship maintains that old-school closeness you rarely find in more corporate firms. Whether getting “banned for all eternity” due to bad (trouser-related) behaviour at posh restaurant Nobu or simply taking the wind out of opponents’ sails, this firm has got that indefinable je ne sais quoi. But still no stuffed alligators. Step it up, Mishcon.
Mish-cellany
In 2009 the firm made 17 redundancies and deferred training contracts “in line with the market,” offering £5,000 as compensation. Whereas before the recession it had been bolstering the numbers (the 2008 trainee intake was the largest ever), pondering an image change and considering new offices, these plans have all been put on hold. But not for long. Prospective trainees shouldn’t fret. “There will be fewer places but we will be recruiting, and we will never cut back on the summer scheme.” In line with Mishcon’s freethinking ways, “if we see someone outstanding we’re not such a regimented firm that we can’t take them.” In 2009 the firm found places for six of ten qualifiers. A significant number of those jobs were six-month contracts, but most were “confident” that they would be extended.
And finally...
We agree with the trainee who said “we’re different from the rest of them,” but don’t go thinking that this is a choice for the oddballs. Mishcon’s success is no joke.