from Bloombox Co to The Flower Source

Here's something that doesn't make sense on paper: I spent thirteen years in finance, worked my way through one of the industry's toughest qualifications, and then left it all to pack flowers in a Costco carpark at 4am.

But let me back up.

The whole time I was in finance, I had this unshakeable need to make things. I couldn't sit still unless I was hatching up something creative on the side. At one point I was making headpieces — custom veils and fascinators for brides and the racing industry. I had pieces on the catwalk at Australian Fashion Week. In InStyle and Grazia. On Vogue Italia's website. Lady Gaga's stylist once requested a few hats. I sent them. No idea if she ever wore them, but I'm claiming it anyway. I couldn't make money from that kind of work, but it kept something alive in me that spreadsheets were slowly killing.

My sister was also an old school wedding florist. I'd spent enough time in her garage processing and wiring stems to know my way around flowers. So when the time came to finally leap into something different, flowers already felt like home.

Costco carpark, 4am

I started Bloombox Co in 2014 with a friend from high school. We'd reconnected years after school finished over a shared love of side hustles and a personality trait we'd later discover was ADHD (oops!). We'd already survived five weeks in Bali trying to launch our own fashion businesses. Those didn't make it. We did.

Bloombox Co was born over a bottle of wine and a debate about whether to start a frozen cauliflower pizza empire or a flower subscription company. Flowers won.

We both had full-time jobs, so we did everything in the wee hours. I'd sleep on her couch, we'd drive across Sydney at 4am to the flower markets, then set up in the Costco carpark to handwrite notes and pack boxes out of her boot. A ritual that we followed very week. For years. Thankfully growing out of the carpark stage. 

Eventually she started a family and it became too much. I understood completely. She was my maid of honour. I love her to bits. But suddenly it was just me, and I was in it with everything I had.

I had moved to Melbourne at this point. So I rebuilt the operation and kept going.

the bit where it all took off (and then didn't)

During COVID, Bloombox Co exploded. We were all stuck at home, craving beauty and connection. Suddenly investors who'd been ignoring my pitches for years were interested. I finally had the team I desperately needed. We designed custom cool-chain packaging and shipped hundreds of boxes a week, refrigerated, all over Australia. We launched a farmgate product that I was ridiculously proud of - actually shipping flowers directly from the growers to our customers.

I did all of this with a newborn literally strapped to me. I was determined not to let motherhood slow me down.

Then the pandemic ended and everything crashed overnight. Orders dropped. Costs exploded. The growth was false validation and I couldn't make the numbers work anymore.

I shrunk the team. Gave up the office space.

[content warning: pregnancy loss]

I packed boxes through pregnancy loss, white-knuckled another pregnancy and newborn phase, and kept the business alive long enough to refund every prepaid customer before putting it all into hibernation. The cost... emotional, financial, personal... was enormous.

the year I stopped making things

Was it postnatal depression? An identity crisis? I'm still not entirely sure. But for a year after Bloombox, I poured everything into my kids and had absolutely no idea who I was anymore.

A rare journaling session cracked it open. Creativity was going to be my way back to myself. Which was ironic, because the whole point of Bloombox Co was to encourage women to prioritise creativity and joy. I hadn't been doing either for myself, and I was desperate.

So I started small. A ceramics class. Drawing. A little painting. Nothing for a business. Nothing for productivity. Just the quiet pleasure of making something without needing it to be anything.

Slowly, I woke back up. And with it came this idea I'd been sitting with for years. (Truly, we had actually launched a half hearted version in 2016).

what The Flower Source actually is

Wedding flowers in Australia cost thousands. And a lot of the couples paying those prices are creative people who would genuinely love to do it themselves. They just don't have the sourcing, the guidance, or the confidence.

I know this because I'm one of them. I DIY'd my own wedding flowers in 2018. Drove to the venue the right before with buckets in the boot, sat in the Airbnb alone while everyone else was out celebrating, and made every bouquet by hand. Orange azalea, flannel flowers, white proteas, bound in black silk velvet ribbon I'd found in New York. Each bridesmaid got a different bouquet matched to her dress. It was messy and imperfect and one of the best things I've ever done.

That feeling — the pride of pulling it off — is exactly what The Flower Source exists for.

We provide florist-grade blooms, step-by-step recipes, video workshops, and a prep guide that walks you through the three days before your wedding. It's everything I wish I'd had when I was making my own bouquets alone in that Airbnb.

If you're the kind of person who's been pinning bouquets at midnight wondering if you could actually pull it off — you can. And I'll make sure of it.

Have a look at our kits. Or if you've got something completely different in mind, tell us about your vision.