I was at work, the kind of place where you need an appointment just to walk through the door, when a lovely woman arrived for hers. Mid‑conversation, her phone rang. She apologised and declined the call. Then it rang again. And again. And again.

I’m sorry i disappeared for a while. It’s not because life fell apart, no for once its because it finally started falling into place. A career switch threw me into a whirlwind—in the best way—and I’ve been trying to be present for every dizzy, sparkling moment of it.

From an embarrassingly young age, girls of my generation were spoon-fed the idea that sex wasn’t just part of a relationship — it was the moment, the make-or-break. The main event, a glittering main attraction everyone else seemed to have rehearsed for. 

I’ve always been addicted to shopping. But it wasn’t until I got older that I discovered the secret life of fashion — the part that isn’t about trends or price tags, but about identity. Once I was bitten by that bug, expressing myself through my wardrobe became less of a hobby and more of a sacred ritual. Some call it an addiction. I call it self‑discovery.

When self-growth causes us to grow out of friendship.

Each year, the cycle repeats itself: Christmas arrives, followed by the dawn of a new year, and suddenly we find ourselves stumbling, perhaps a little worse for wear, into January. With the turn of the calendar comes an overwhelming bombardment of resolutions. Joining the gym, embarking on diets, drinking more water, and quitting old habits. Almost all, set in the pursuit of self-improvement, which is a good thing, isn’t it?

Welcome to the in-between years (after hours in heels)—I’m G, and I’m so glad you’re here. Picture this space as your cosy corner, where you can unwind with a glass of wine after a long day. Think of this blog as your trusted companion—always here when you need a moment to yourself, somewhere between planning dinner and drifting off to sleep, offering a touch of comfort along the way.