i throw parties now

i’ve been obsessed with girls’ night out for as long as i can remember. not just the event itself, but the ritual of it. the fantasy. the feeling. the energy. it started young... maybe too young. let me explain.

the first time i went to the club, i was 6 years old.

in 1999, my dad was in a relationship with a woman from bahia, brazil. she and i spent a lot of time together when he was away working, and we developed our own unique sort of friendship. i was especially intrigued by her life before she met my dad—her independence, her girlfriends, and the vibrant way she moved through the world.

she had a crew of women from brazil and they were always going out in LA. i'd watch her get ready, picking outfits, doing her makeup, spraying perfume, and chatting on the phone while planning the night's look and location. i was in awe of the process—it felt like a sacred ritual. she'd ask my opinion on what to wear, how to style her hair, and even give me little tips on how to apply perfume. we'd dance to music while she got ready, and i felt like i was part of something magical.

the next morning over breakfast, she'd show me photos from her digital camera (pre-camera phone era!) and recount the wild and wonderful things that had happened. i lived for those stories.

one weekend, my dad was away and she was watching me at home. she got a call from one of her girlfriends asking her to go out. she declined, but i overheard and begged her to go—and to bring me. “no way,” she said at first. but i wore her down: “i’ll behave like a grown-up! i promise!”

“okay,” she finally said. “but don’t tell your dad. this stays between us. and we’ll be back before midnight.”

i was ecstatic. she did my hair, let me borrow her lip gloss, and we met her friends in a part of town i’d only admired through car windows. they looked like they had just stepped out of a limited catalog or a BEBE campaign—low-rise jeans, sexy tops, high heels. they welcomed me with open arms and treated me like one of them, chatting about relationships, travel, and gossip. no kid talk. just women being women, and me being included.

after dinner, we went to zabumba, a brazilian restaurant in culver city that turned into a nightclub after dark. she gave the bouncer a hug and said, “she’s cool, we won’t stay long.” he gave me a high five and said, “don’t get too wild now.”

i could have levitated.

the lights, the disco ball, the packed dance floor, the DJ spinning samba—it was my dream come to life. for the next hour, i danced my butt off, smiling and laughing and feeling like i was exactly where i was meant to be and like my life was finally starting to begin. eventually, she made me a little bed out of chairs on the patio while she smoked with her friends, and i drifted off with the sounds of laughter and music echoing in my ears.

that night has stayed with me ever since. it was my gateway into the magic of girls' night out.

fast forward to adulthood—i still love a girls' night. wspecially how it’s portrayed in TV, film, and music. a getting ready/girls night out montage in a movie or music video is beyond blissful and sooo satisfying to watch. i’m so obsessed that i even made a powerpoint outlining the structure and elements of what makes a perfect girls' night.

but i’ve often felt disappointed by the lack of spaces where women can feel fully themselves in nightlife. so many clubs don’t cater to us. the music misses. the crowd is off. you end up feeling overdressed or out of place.

the only consistent joy has been the getting ready and the pregame — the ritual, the intimacy, the transformation.

so i decided to create the party i’d always dreamed of.

sticky note is my love letter to girls' night. a space where everything—from the music to the drinks to the energy on the dance floor—is designed with you in mind. where your outfit is appreciated. where you feel safe to dance, flirt, take photos, hype other women up in the bathroom, and make memories worth writing down.

my first party was in NYC two weeks ago. all women DJs. specialty cocktails and mocktails. over 100 affirming sticky notes posted around the venue. lipstick from saie was gifted, the bathroom was stocked with pads/tampons from honeypot. the girls showed up. the vibes were high. friendships were formed. fit pics were served. i even played photographer so everyone could get their moment.

it felt like I was honoring that 6-year-old version of me who had her first taste of girls' night magic in 1999. And now, i’m going to keep creating those nights for her — and for you.

sticky note is just getting started.

follow @stickynotenight for details on our next party (coming in august!). i hope to see you there. let’s live the fantasy, together :)