If I had to sum up 2025 in one feeling, it would be deep gratitude… with very tired feet.
What makes this year even more surreal is that many of the places I worked in — the castles, estates, and châteaux — once felt completely out of my reach. Not long ago, they lived firmly in the maybe one day category. And yet, step by step, cake by cake, 2025 gently proved that consistency, patience, and staying true to your craft really do open doors.
At the beginning of the year — even though I’m not a New Year’s resolution kind of person — I made one quiet decision: to stop overthinking and start saying yes to the opportunities being presented to me. Less hesitation. More trust. That shift alone changed the entire rhythm of the year.
The Orchid Kitchen continued to evolve in a way that felt aligned, intentional, and creatively fulfilling. Being commissioned to travel to France with my cakes, shooting in a Bordeaux' s most beautiful château, is still something I have to pause and process. Creating work in spaces that feel cinematic and full of history reminded me why I do this — not just to make something beautiful, but to tell a story through form, texture, and flavour.
Closer to home, I had the privilege of designing several cakes for couples at Middleton Lodge, a venue that continues to inspire me with its understated elegance. Each design felt refined, thoughtful, and deeply personal — the kind of work that comes from trust and creative freedom.
And then there was Glenapp Castle in Scotland. Designing, delivering, staying over, and truly experiencing the venue was one of those full-circle moments. The hospitality, the atmosphere, the kindness of the team — it didn’t feel like work, it felt like a reminder of how far this journey has come.
2025 was also a year of growth beyond weddings. I was lucky to be part of several incredible workshops, and finally — after a long-held dream — I made something very special happen. Together with my wonderful industry friend Ingrid, we planned our first ever workshop. Turning an idea we’d talked about for years into a real, tangible experience felt incredibly empowering and deeply personal.
The cakes themselves evolved too. More confidence in restraint. More clarity in design. Saying no to replication and yes to originality. Being trusted to interpret rather than imitate. That trust is everything to me.
Running a small business like this is demanding — physically, emotionally, and creatively. There were long nights, early starts, packed cars, heavy tiers, and tight timelines. I am tired, but it’s the good kind of tired. The kind that comes from work that feels meaningful.
What I’m most grateful for is that The Orchid Kitchen continues to evolve without losing its soul. Still small. Still personal. Still intentional. Supported by couples, planners, venues, and creatives who truly value thoughtful, considered design.
Looking ahead to 2026, I feel excited in a calm, grounded way. I already know the couples will be incredible — a mix of familiar venues and exciting new settings — and I cannot wait to create in spaces that once felt impossible, and now feel like home.
Here’s to 2026.
Bigger impact. Deeper creativity. And cakes that continue to tell stories worth remembering.
