09/06/2026
I realised I’ve never actually shared how I got here. Before Floyd & Frankie was a store, it was a side hustle built between crane shifts, wedding bookings, and a whole lot of figuring it out as I went.
In my early 20s, I landed a role as a Business Development Manager. Then COVID hit, and suddenly I found myself on JobKeeper. One of Dad’s best mates threw me a lifeline and got me into FIFO crane operating around Australia.
During my downtime between swings, I started making preserved flower arrangements. First Christmas wreaths, then potted arrangements. I sold them through my dogs’ Instagram account, which was called Floyd and Frankie at the time. Yep… a dog Instagram 🤪
Not long after, I booked my first preserved wedding, which quickly turned into fresh flowers and more wedding enquiries than I could keep up with.
Eventually, I took a role on switchboard at the QEH, so I could be home for my wedding clients. Every spare minute was spent getting my hands on flowers, attending markets with great friends, making insta content and before long, the idea of a shop came about.
That led to our little Jetty Road Largs Bay store. I figured flowers alone wouldn’t be enough, so I added coffee too. I genuinely thought I might spend quiet afternoons watching Netflix on my iPad. Safe to say, that didn’t happen.
That tiny store became something special. Weddings, flowers, gifts, coffee, toasties. Six-day work weeks became normal. Whether you call it hustle or burnout, it eventually led us to Fort Largs, where the dream was to focus on flowers in a location we loved.
As life and business often do, plans changed. We adapted, pivoted, and found ourselves in Grange, which feels like the perfect blend of everything Floyd & Frankie has become.
It’s been a rollercoaster, but it’s also a reminder not to compare your day one to someone else’s day one hundred.
Early 20s Mel would have be proud of what late 20s Mel has built.
Most of all, I’m grateful for the people we’ve met along the way, the lessons we didn’t think we’d get through, and the reminder that sometimes the best thing you can do is take the next step, even when you have no idea where it’ll lead.
