Welcome to Bottles to Briefcase: The Beautiful Chaos

Well, hello there 👋 and welcome to my little corner of the internet. If you’ve somehow stumbled upon this blog, let me start by saying two things:

1. You’re either extremely lost (were you searching for actual bottles or office briefcases?) or…

2. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

   
   

Either way — I’m thrilled you’re here. Pull up a chair, pour yourself a glass of wine (or a coffee, or a mocktail — whatever fuels your chaos), and let’s get acquainted.

Because this? This isn’t just a blog. This is a survival guide. A laugh-so-you-don’t-cry space. A “thank God I’m not the only one” space. A “tell it how it is” corner of the internet for women who are juggling it all — and sometimes dropping it all — but always showing up again anyway.

The Prosecco Queen (AKA My Past Life 🍾)

Once upon a time — not that long ago — I was what friends affectionately called The Prosecco Queen. Every Friday night, you’d find me out with the girls, heels that weren’t practical, lashes that could cause small wind storms, and a glass (okay, bottle) of fizz in hand.

Life was about swiping right, brunching hard, and pretending not to care about the unanswered “hey” texts from the Tinderellas of the world. Dating in my 30s? Oh, honey. If you know, you know. It was like trying to find a Michelin-star meal at a petrol station. Possible? Maybe. Likely? Absolutely not.

I kissed frogs. I endured awkward first dates that deserved their own Netflix comedy special. I became an Olympic-level ghostee. But I also laughed. A lot. And slowly, between dodgy pickup lines and 3 a.m. “u up?” messages, I learned what I didn’t want.

From Tinderella to Twins 👶👶

Fast-forward to now: somehow that chaotic chapter of prosecco-fuelled nights turned into this chapter — wife, mum of three (yes, three… and yes, I do look tired, thanks for asking), and full-time leader in sales.

And if that sounds like a whiplash-inducing plot twist, let me assure you — it was.

See, my story wasn’t exactly “boy meets girl, they fall in love, she sneezes and three babies appear.” Nope. I’ve battled fertility struggles since I was 16, when I was told I had premature menopause. Not exactly the kind of diagnosis you frame in a scrapbook. But life has a way of throwing you curveballs and then handing you the bat.

Through egg donation, science, and a whole lot of resilience (plus hormones that could have powered a small city), I became a mum. First to a little whirlwind toddler, then to twins. And let me tell you — twins plus a toddler is not “double the trouble” and “triple the fun.” It’s… math that doesn’t even add up anymore.

The Career Chapter: Sales, Suits, and Side-Eye 💼

Now, while all that was happening on the personal front, my professional life was unfolding in its own way.

I work in sales. Not the “would you like fries with that?” kind (though, honestly, respect to those who do). I’m talking big deals, high targets, managing teams, and climbing ladders in industries where the boardrooms are mostly filled with men.

And here’s the thing about being a woman in a male-dominated space: you learn quickly how to make your voice heard without losing yourself. You learn that your heels click louder when they’re walking with confidence. And you learn to pour your energy strategically.

Balancing that world with nappies, kindy drop-offs, and the occasional existential “what’s-for-dinner” crisis? That’s the kind of multitasking no résumé ever truly reflects.

Bottles to Briefcase: Why We’re Here

So why Bottles to Briefcase? Because that’s my life in a nutshell.

It’s bottles at 2 a.m. with teething babies. It’s briefcases at 9 a.m. with a boardroom full of people waiting for you to answer KPI questions and whether your team hit the mark. It’s trying to remember if you packed lunchboxes, emailed your boss back, and maybe brushed your own hair… all in the same breath.

But more than that, Bottles to Briefcase is a place for all women.

✨ Single? You belong here.

✨ Dating? Honey, pull up a chair — I’ve got stories.

✨ Mum? Welcome to the messy sisterhood.

✨ Career-driven? Hell yes.

✨ Figuring it all out? Same. Always.

This blog is about the real stories — not the Pinterest-perfect highlight reels. It’s about celebrating resilience, laughing at the chaos, and remembering that no matter what chapter you’re in, you’re never alone.

What You’ll Find Here

So what can you expect from Bottles to Briefcase?

• Real Talk: No sugar-coating. (Unless it’s on the rim of a margarita glass.)

• Stories: The good, the bad, the hilarious, and the ones that make you feel seen.

• Community: This isn’t just me talking at you — I want this to be a conversation.

• Inspiration: Not the “manifest your yacht” kind, but the “you’re doing better than you think you are” kind.

And yes, you’ll probably also find run-on sentences, sarcastic humour, and the occasional rant about negotiating with a 3 year old.

Why Follow Along?

Because let’s be honest: life is messy. And too many of us are out here pretending we’ve got it all together when really, we’re googling “is three-day-old pasta safe to eat” at midnight.

I want this blog to be the place you come when you need to laugh, when you need to cry, when you need to feel like you’re not the only one secretly hiding in the pantry with chocolate.

And if you like what you read here, you’ll love the Instagram. That’s where the behind-the-scenes chaos really comes to life — messy buns, coffee spills, toddler tantrums, wins at work, and everything in between.

Let’s Do This

So here we are: Bottles to Briefcase. A blog for the women who are living ten lives at once, who have big dreams and big messes, who sometimes want to quit and sometimes feel unstoppable — all in the same day.

If that’s you? Stick around. Subscribe. Follow on Instagram. Share your story.

Because the truth is — this isn’t just about me. It’s about us.

And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this: we’re stronger (and funnier) together.

Now, go pour yourself a drink (coffee, wine, whatever’s calling you). You’ve earned it.

Welcome, friend. Let’s begin.