Story
One instinct,
many applications.
I grew up watching my mother welcome guests into our home. A dialogue of delight unfolded every time the door opened — a small offering to thank the host, compliments on the home, the aromas drifting from the kitchen, drink preferences remembered, and the warmth of catching up. When it came time to dine, guests found their way to their seats with quiet appreciation for the handwritten place cards waiting for them — recognising them.
At seven, I started a jewellery business — Graceful Designs. I loved channelling my creativity into something tangible, wearable, and giftable. I learned about material costs, labour, margins, and profit — though the proceeds were donated to the animal shelter where I volunteered, since my parents were footing the bill!
Knowing that wouldn't always be the case, I went to Georgia Tech to become more commercially minded — studying business administration and consumer psychology. Not just what people buy, but what motivates them to do so.
My lifelong love of flowers eventually became a serious practice in floral design. Over two decades, I've honed my craft, training with Eastern and Western floral designers, and later at Bloom Couture where I learned the realities of running a creative studio. Once again, the medium changed — but the goal remained the same: creating moments that move people.
My Master's in Luxury Business at Sotheby's Institute was a study in social anthropology. Less about status and objects, and more about what luxury means to individuals — and how that meaning continues to evolve. My definition of luxury? Time, presence, and care.
When I moved to London, I had one specific intention: to become a local. To find a café where I'd become a regular. To know the neighbours and the hidden gems. To build a sense of home, belonging, and community. On a recent neighbourhood stroll, a close friend called me "the Mr. Rogers of Marylebone," which I consider a success.