MADE IN KIN Launch Lunch, Melbourne
The first of many tables to come
Yesterday, in our empty apartment soon to be left behind, something significant took place – a long table gathering 20 of our Melbourne-based Creative Directory talents, each bringing their own stories, practices and perspectives into the room. The space felt in-between, cleared out and holding the remnants of a past life while making room for something new – in every sense, the end of an era and the beginning of another.
Over the past several months, MADE IN KIN has been forming slowly and deliberately – through conversations, outreach, introductions and invitations extended across Australia. What began as a series of messages and ideas became something tangible that afternoon.
It truly took a barangay (village) to make this event happen, especially while being in the process of moving house. Just the day before alone involved my husband Kieran running around picking up produce and flowers with me on FaceTime, as I was being impossibly picky, all with endless patience. My sister Jasmine, fresh off the plane from Sydney, rolled up her sleeves and helped in any way she could.
But once the tables were set, with our Wildflowers Linen Tablecloths by Bespoke Letterpress setting the tone, the styling began – bananas, eggplants, ampalayas, snake beans, chokos and papayas, arranged in a way that felt both abundant and unmistakably Asian, in honour of my Filipino roots.
One by one, everyone arrived, quickly filling our small 50-square metre apartment. People mingled – some already good friends, many meeting for the first time – pointing out vegetables they recognised on the table, small moments of familiarity sparking conversation.
The Chilean wines generously donated by Strange Grapes flowed, easing everyone into the afternoon. Melbourne weather is notoriously fickle, but on this day, the sunshine pouring in played its part too.
And then there were our signature plastic chairs. We had been collecting these from Facebook Marketplace over the past few months, driving to all sorts of pockets across Melbourne. Many were originally white, later spray painted into the classic colours I recall from my travels in the motherland – cream, dark brown and light teal.
They looked glorious in our small apartment, a beautiful contrast to the surrounding mansions of Toorak, quietly holding their own as if to say, we belong here too.
The dishes served throughout the afternoon were prepared by a selection of our MIK Creatives.
Yusuke Sato opened with a California roll starter, drawing from his Japanese heritage, his sushi so good that notes were exchanged on exactly how he cooks his rice.
Sebastian Pasinetti followed, bringing together his West African–Italian heritage through scotch bonnet and garlic roasted chicken with jollof-inspired rice, joking as he served that he didn’t need to hold back on the chilli with this crowd.
Grace Guinto brought Filipino flavours into the room with turon, along with a cinnamon-spiced carrot cake layered with a calamansi cheesecake filling and finished with delicate rice paper peonies.
As the afternoon rolled on, the table loosened. Glasses refilled, chairs shifted, conversations deepened.
When Grace’s cake was brought out, I asked whose birthday was up next. Bella Loke turned instantly flush as her partner Chichi pointed her out, and before she could protest, the entire table broke into a loud, slightly chaotic rendition of Happy Birthday.
Instead of traditional gift bags, each guest received a mini balikbayan box.
In Filipino culture, balikbayan boxes are typically sent by OFWs (Overseas Filipino Workers) back home – large boxes filled with everyday goods, small comforts and tokens of care. They travel across oceans, carrying love, sacrifice and the quiet ache of homesickness.
A big thank you to those who contributed to the boxes – Felis Sarcepuedes of Akasya Kape for the Philippine-origin coffee, Grace again of Sweet Cora for homemade polvoron, Jones & Co for the capiz shell trays and Bespoke Letterpress for the mini jotter notepads. There may have been some of my favourite Filipino snacks in the mix too – and a letter version of the speech I was too scared to say.
Each item carried its own story, much like the people gathered around the table.
What made the day feel especially meaningful was how many hands came together to make it happen.
Contributions offered without hesitation. Food prepared so that the act of hosting didn’t become overwhelming. And words shared at the end of the meal by those willing to speak, stepping in so I didn’t have to.
One of those voices was Jem Juthamat, who I had only met that afternoon, but quickly found myself deep in conversation with, discovering how much we had in common. Then suddenly, she was up, saying such kind words about me.
It was a reminder of what I hope for MADE IN KIN – seeing your story reflected in others, and building a built-in group of cheerleaders for one another.
This lunch was the first of many tables. A starting point, not a one-off moment. Something to return to, to build on, to expand across cities and communities.
The hope is simple – that these gatherings continue to grow, that more people find their way in, and that what begins around a table carries outward into the work we make and the spaces we move through.
