LIFESTYLE
Or also known as the perfect prekend. There's undoubtedly something special about Friday night, saying goodbye to a productive week (hopefully) and hello to the blissful days of the weekend. Friday night feels in part a staycation and part an anticipation, even when there is nothing planned for the days that follow it. Here's our perfect
The transition begins the moment you walk through the door. Work clothes off, shower on and wash the week away. A long shower with oils, or a bath salted until the water feels heavy. Skincare treated like a spa. Lights low, music playing, creams, serums, hair mask brushed through without rush.
Clothes come next. Not loungewear in the sense of old tracksuits or something you half-rescue from the bottom drawer, but clothes that make you feel good. Main character energy. Linen, cotton or silk, it's not the time for polyester, natural fibres only. Spray your favourite perfume, moisturise your feet, a take a few long, slow calming breaths.
The opening of the weekend deserves its own moment, and often it begins with a glass. What fills it is less important, a beer pulled icy cold from the fridge, champagne hissing softly as the cork gives way, or a sparkling water poured tall over ice. It isn’t really about the drink. It’s about what it says. That first sip is a sign that the emails are over, the week has loosened its grip, and the weekend is yours.
Friday night food is about ease, not effort. It’s not the evening for long recipes and clattering pans. It’s about what feels comforting and what feels generous. Steak with rosemary butter, pasta slick with olive oil and parmesan, sushi ordered from your favourite spot.
This is not the night to consume endlessly. The perfect Friday is about choosing one thing and giving it your full attention. Your favourite film, an episode you’ve been saving, a book that makes you lose track of time. A record spinning, a playlist humming through the house, conversation that runs longer because no one is looking at the clock. Friday night doesn’t need to be loud; it just needs to be satisfying. Lights dim. A candle burns, not for guests or special occasions, but for you. The week fades at the strike of a match. The house takes on a different energy.
Every home has a Friday version of itself. The sofa softened by cushions, the balcony doors cracked open to the night air, the faint smell of dinner still clinging. It’s not the polished, guest-ready version. A candle dripping, a blanket pulled close, a half-finished glass of wine on the counter. The undone details that make a house feel lived in. It’s the home that holds you in a soft warm embrace.
Friday night belongs to neither world. It isn’t the structured demand of the week, and it isn’t yet the free stretch of Saturday. Whether you spend it with people you love or entirely alone, the perfect Friday night wind down is where some magic can happen.