Five Years On: The Story of Building The Pink Elephant

The Spark on a Sunday Afternoon

If I look back to day one, The Pink Elephant began in the most ordinary yet magical way — on a quiet Sunday afternoon. I was sitting there scribbling names, Googling anything and everything… table, plate, colours, textures, moments, moods. I stumbled around words like blue and elephant, until a conversation with my sister Lauren changed everything. She said to me over the phone, almost casually “Why don’t you call it The Pink Elephant?”

And just like that — the name landed. Bold, warm, playful, unexpected. It felt like a heartbeat. To this day, I give Lauren full credit for birthing the name into existence, and for being there in those first, fragile days when all I really had was passion and possibility.

Do one thing every day to grow your business is my lesson learnt. Just one step. Feed it daily.

That’s how you build something from the ground — not in leaps, but in thousands of tiny, determined movements forward.

Where Hospitality Was Born

Long before The Pink Elephant existed, hospitality lived in my bones. I grew up in Harare, Zimbabwe, in a home where the doors were always open and the table was always full. We entertained constantly — family, friends, business guests, travellers, neighbours. Our garden was a stage for life’s beautiful milestones: weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, end-of-school parties.

My dad brought the warmth — magnetic, fun, charismatic, hardworking and generous in the truest sense of the word. My mum brought the beauty and organisation — the food, the details, the grace of being an incredible hostess. Together they created an environment where celebration wasn’t an occasion, it was a way of life.

That upbringing shaped me more than I ever realised — until this business arrived.

From Brisbane House Parties to the South West London house share Garden Parties

That love of hosting followed me across oceans. At university in Brisbane, I was the one planning the college gatherings. Later in London, living in shared houses, I would find myself organising garden parties that are still spoken about to this day (Earlsfield oh they days — if you know, you know!).

And when I finally had a garden of my own, I hosted again. Food, people, music, candles, connection. Looking back, I see now that these weren’t just parties. They were practice. They were pieces of the future forming quietly in the background.

Saying Yes — Before I Knew the How

When the idea first came in April 2020, I didn’t have a business plan. I didn’t have funding. I didn’t have a grand strategy. I had belief — and a stubborn intuition that this was the thing I was meant to build.

I started small: platter events, intimate celebrations, experimenting, exploring, feeling my way through it. I didn’t know exactly what The Pink Elephant would become — I just knew I had to begin.

The Reality of the Grind

People talk about entrepreneurship with shiny words, but let me be honest: it is hard. You sacrifice holidays, weekends, sleep, security, certainty. You give up versions of yourself. You grow through discomfort.

I didn’t have money to fall back on — I built this from nothing but work. And while I’m proud of that, I’ve learned that grit alone isn’t sustainable. You also have to learn to pause. To breathe. To find yourself again when the business becomes every corner of your life.

Scaling, Stretching, and Surprising Myself

As the business grew, the challenges evolved. The hardest days weren’t at the beginning — they came later, when things were working. When scaling felt like survival and a blessing at the same time. When managing clients, suppliers, budgets, people, and possibility became a living, breathing balancing act.

There were days I felt unstoppable, and days I questioned everything. Days I worked until midnight, and days I learned to give myself permission to stop — to rest, reset, and return stronger.

Five Years On

Five years in, I’ve realised entrepreneurship isn’t a straight line. It’s faith, and resilience, and deep intuitive trust. It’s letting yourself evolve as the business evolves. It’s learning who you are under pressure and who you become through purpose. I’ve learned to trust my gut. To trust timing. To trust that tomorrow always comes, and that somehow, you find a way to meet it.

If you believe in something with your whole heart — don’t give up on it. Build it. Protect it. Nurture it. Let it stretch you and shape you. This is just the beginning. And I can’t wait for what comes next.