If you’ve been waiting for a sign to host a Galentine’s brunch, this is it.

Last Sunday, our apartment looked like a Pinterest board had exploded all over it. Pink roses in vases, heart-print napkins, strawberries in bowls, and leftover birthday candles from last semester flickering. By 10 am, the kitchen smelled like pancakes and melted chocolate, and my roommates and I were running around in sweatpants trying to get everything done at the same time.

We decided to host a Galentine’s brunch. Just an excuse to cook, decorate, and gather all the people we love most in one place.

The planning started the day before (by now, I’m sure you can tell we’re not very Type-A) when my roommates and I made what can only be described as a very serious trip to the hardware store, the one near campus that somehow has everything. We went in for ribbon and tape and somehow walked out with candles, glass jars, and things we absolutely did not need but convinced ourselves were essential for the function.

My roommate is the actual cook in this situation. I was there for moral support and occasional taste testing. She somehow made everything we could think of: a charcuterie board (still cannot confidently say that word), a make-your-own pizza station, Valentine’s-themed snacks and cookies, and pasta.

Decorating was its own event. We very happily plagiarized an Instagram reel in an attempt to be aesthetic. Did we fully pull it off? Debatable. But there was at least one moment where we stepped back, looked at the table, and said, “Wait… this is kinda cute.” And honestly, that was enough.

There’s something really nice about intentionally celebrating your friends. We’re always running between classes, internships, meetings, promising to “hang soon”. But this felt different. We picked a day and everyone showed up.

And when I say showed up, I mean climbed nine flights of stairs because our elevator decided to stop working that morning. Nothing builds anticipation like cardio before brunch. If anything, it just made everyone hungrier, which worked out in our favor.

Planning this brunch also let us be a little delusional in a fun way. We rearranged the strawberries at least five times. We debated candle placement. We stepped back to admire the living room like we were hosting a dinner party for Architectural Digest instead of 15 college students who were probably only there for the food.

The best part, though, wasn’t even the setup. It was when everyone ended up on the couch, still holding plates, talking about literally everything for way longer than we planned. These are the same girls I see stressed over midterms and half-asleep in Butler at midnight. Sitting together, having conversations where no one felt the need to filter themselves and laughing over absolutely nothing, just made me appreciate them more.

Columbia can feel big and intense most days, but that morning our apartment felt cozy and familiar in the best way possible. By the time everyone left and we were cleaning up whipped cream off the counter, I realized the brunch wasn’t really about Valentine’s or Galentine’s, it was just about being together on purpose.

And that’s why I’m sure this won’t be the last Galentine’s I host.

Image via Author