Hi, I'm Alli and I didn't start Dead Tired Club because I had it all figured out.

I started it because I was exhausted, and none of the Millennial Mum brands talking to me understood me.

I partied hard, rocked out and raved, travelled the world, and spent a decade living in London, saying yes to everything, chasing energy, chasing feeling, chasing life.

Somewhere along the way, after all that chasing, I fell in love. The kind that makes you want to build something real.

I came home to Sydney, built a life that felt solid and grounded, a career in the music industry that fuelled my passion, and at 39, had the quiet but terrifying realisation: if I don't try now, I might never have a child.

What followed was everything, all at once.

• The high of getting married.
• The gut punch of Covid.
• Losing two grandparents. Losing our dog.
• Losing two friends in their 40s to cancer.
• A career pivot.
• And in the background of it all: IVF. Hope. Disappointment. Repeat.

At 44, I finally fell pregnant. We bought a beautiful home by the sea. And then came our baby boy, healthy, perfect, everything we'd hoped for.

But no one really talks about what comes next.

Postpartum anxiety. A nervous system that doesn't switch off. And then, straight into perimenopause.

It's been a wild, disorienting, beautiful, brutal rollercoaster.

And somewhere in the middle of it, I realised something else: every brand talking to women like me felt… beige.

Bright, airy wellness marketing that positions "feeling better" as some kind of elevated, spiritual life trajectory. Like if you just drink the right tea, light the candle, and breathe deeply enough, everything will align.

But I've never bought into that. I'm too much of a joker. I don't take myself that seriously. I can't meditate or switch off. And honestly, sometimes I don't want enlightenment. I just want a decent sleep and a massage.

And I'm definitely not beige.

I'm covered in tattoos. I'm still deeply immersed in pop culture, very much part of the zeitgeist. My playlists swing from Rage Against The Machine and The Prodigy to Teddy Swims and RAYE.

I'm loud, emotional, darkly funny. I've lived. I've lost. I've pushed my body to the edge and back again. And yes, I've traded one kind of pill for another over the last 25 years.

Dead Tired Club exists for people like me.

People who've lived a life, felt everything, and are now paying for it in sleep debt, hormones, and nervous systems that won't shut up. That former life is catching up and it's written all over my face in dark under-eyes, lines and adult acne on my chin and neck (WTF!)

It's not about perfection. It's about feeling better about myself. It's about honesty. It's about creating something that actually gets women like me. Women like us.

Every product and ingredient has been tested by me. My only prerequisite for stocking it? It had to make me feel an overwhelming, full-body "oh my fucking god, this actually works." That's it. No complicated criteria. Just that.

So I took everything I've learned from two decades as a marketer and thought… why not give this thing a proper go? I know building a brand and a community from scratch isn't easy - I've done it for so many others. But here I am, giving it a red hot crack, for myself. And for women like me.

So we have enough energy to keep going on adventures. To show our children that curiosity leads the way. To actually enjoy the moments that matter. To maintain a lust for living. And, to feel a little more confident while doing it ALL.

If this also sounds like you, I welcome you with a big hug and the clink of a glass, to the Dead Tired Club.