mate expectations

Every parent hopes their child will find friends who are kind, honest, thoughtful and grounded. We want them surrounded by people who value learning, stand up for what’s right, support others when it matters, and respect boundaries. The thought of them losing themselves to fit in, or being pulled into choices that chip away at who they are, is genuinely unsettling.

Watching my own daughter navigate this stage, I’ve seen how intense and unpredictable high school friendships can be. Puberty brings a whirlwind of emotions and self-discovery, and during this time, the need to belong can shape so much of how she sees herself and those around her. Interests shift, dynamics change, and the line between encouragement and pressure can blur quickly.

We try to raise our kids with strong values: to know their worth, be kind without being a pushover, and to walk away when something doesn’t feel right. Letting go of the wrong people is hard at any age, but especially in adolescence when friendships feel like everything. Watching her do it with self-respect is something to be proud of. She’s not just making friends; she’s forming a circle she’ll carry into adulthood, one defined by integrity, empathy and authentic connection.

Some friendships will fade, and that’s a natural part of growing up. The more important thing is that she’s learning to recognise what’s real - bonds built on trust, consistency and care. The ones that don’t just survive the twists and turns of youth but grow stronger because of them.

cracked rose-tinted glasses

The “ick factor” was once mostly tied to dating: an abrupt, inexplicable wave of discomfort that flips attraction off like a switch. Maybe it’s how someone deals with money, the relentless typos in their texts, or a remark that lingers for the wrong reasons. It’s subtle but powerful, and once it hits, it’s hard to shake. But as with most things, Gen Z has expanded it. Now, getting the ick shows up in friendships and social dynamics too.

When you’re close to someone, especially an old friend, it’s like seeing them through rose-coloured glasses. You overlook things. Others might point out habits or comments that are grating, but you can’t see it. There’s this kind of social filter that softens all their edges, like a loyal lens. You’re not completely blind to it, but the quirks just don’t land the same way.

Then something shifts. Maybe it’s a single moment or a slow build, but suddenly the veil drops. You start to see them clearly, and everything feels dialled up: the cheap shots dressed up as humour that now seem careless, the constant sarcasm, the nosiness, even the way they type “u” instead of “you”. The little things you used to let slide now stand out.

A good friend is like wallpaper in a well-loved home. The cracks and faded spots tell a story - imperfections that blend into comfort. It’s a test of your connection, proof that true friendship holds even when the surface wears thin.

The ick doesn’t always end a friendship, but it does mark a turning point. It forces a reckoning: seeing who they are without the goodwill goggles, and feeling the difference. It makes you realise how much our relationships depend on the concessions we make, what we choose not to see, until we no longer can.

mastered it

I’ve always admired a particular type of intelligence: one that wears knowledge with grace, challenges ideas respectfully, communicates clearly, and connects with others without ego. To me, it’s one of the most valuable traits. 

The worst remark is one that cuts at my mind. When someone questions my intelligence or dismisses me, it doesn’t just offend; it strikes at the heart of who I am. But today isn’t about that.  

Today is about determination - the relentless drive to show up, stay curious, work hard, and push through self-doubt. But more than that, it’s about the support of family and friends who’ve cheered me on and took time out of their schedules to share this special occasion with me. 

One of my biggest regrets in life is not giving 12th grade a proper go. I was heartbroken, certifiably lovesick, and couldn’t function. I skipped classes, barely scraped through my final year of high school, and the disappointment still lingers. I often have recurring dreams of a do-over, but I always wake up before I even make it to the classroom. It feels like an unfinished chapter - one where I didn’t achieve the HSC mark I was capable of. Maybe that’s why I pursued this master’s degree, not just for the qualification, but to settle a score with the past. And now, with the story rewritten, perhaps those restless dreams can finally sleep.

elegator

I hadn’t set foot in the Hermès boutique since my birthday last year, when I picked up the Birkin. At the time, it felt like the perfect finale, the kind of high note you walk away on. I’d dabbled in other designer labels, convinced that I was done with the Hermès game. The waitlists, the whispered negotiations, the endless anticipation no longer held the same charm. 

I’d seen alligator bags in-store, displayed in the vitrines. Beautiful, yes, but they never made my heart skip a beat. Then, out of nowhere, the itch came. No idea why, no rhyme or reason, just a sudden, sharp pull back in. 

I reconnected with my sales associate, and after a bit of small talk and a few medium purchases, she made a big offer: the elegant Kelly II Retourne 25. Alligator. Exotic. Rare. Everything I hadn’t known I wanted until I did. 

It felt serendipitous, this impulsive acquisition, neatly tied to both my birth month and master’s graduation, making it a special gift to myself. 

🍊 Kelly II Retourne 25 Alligator Mississipiensis Y1 Vanille

tiers of time

The first time I saw a three-tiered dessert stand was at my best friend’s Bridal Shower in 2007, the same year that I started dating my husband. It was arranged with cute cupcakes and pastries, and I remember thinking how pretty and elegant it looked. But at that stage of my life, it never occurred to me to buy one since I had no reason to.

Six anniversaries later, when Amelia was a newborn, the dessert stand popped back into my mind. Perhaps it was the sleep-deprived haze of early motherhood or the longing for something beautiful in the midst of chaos, but I suddenly felt drawn to it. I started searching through online marketplaces like Gumtree and eBay, slowly piecing together a collection, not just of ceramic dessert stands, but of cake stands, plates, ornate tea pots, sugar & milk jugs. Each item felt like a little treasure, waiting for the right time to be used.

But life got busy, and when we moved houses, they were packed away into storage and forgotten. Seasons changed, and the collection remained untouched, tucked into boxes, waiting for an occasion I wasn’t even sure would come.

Who would have thought that the opportunity would finally arrive at Amelia’s 12th birthday party? She had chosen a pastel theme, and as I unwrapped each piece, I realised just how perfect they were. The soft hues, intricate patterns, and timeless charm made everything feel so special, almost as if they had been waiting all these years for this exact celebration. It was a full-circle moment, something I had unknowingly been preparing for since the very beginning.