You're summoned. Wear black. Behave badly.
Mourning my 30s
Entering my 40s
A black-attire funeral for the decade that lived loud and apologized to no one.
DEC 5TH 2026 // 19:00 // SALONTY — kościuszki 14, wrocław
/ THE EULOGY
Here lies
my thirties
She lived loud, loved hard, and regretted not one
delicious second.
We're not here to cry. We're here to drink, to dance, to
wear black like it's a personality, and to bury a whole
decade with the send-off she fucking earned. My forties can
wait at the door — tonight belongs to everything I'm leaving behind.
WHEN
Dec 5th 2026
DRESS
Head-to-toe black
MOOD
Sultry & shameless
/ ORDER OF SERVICE
How the night goes down
No hymns. No sermons. Just food, booze, and gloriously bad
decisions.
I
Arrival & first drink
Walk in like you own the place. Grab a glass. Silently judge everyone's black.
II
Finger foods & pizza
Grazing all night — and yes, actual fucking pizza. Mourning is hungry work.
III
The bar stays open
Booze flowing until my thirties are officially dead. Drink responsibly-ish.
IV
Dancing & resurrection
The floor opens and nobody sits down. Your requested song gets played — loudly.
V
Sweets & cake
Sugar, then cake. Every good funeral ends with a proper send-off.
/ ONE RULE. NON-NEGOTIABLE.
Strictly
all black
This isn't a suggestion, darling. One thread of
colour and you've missed the entire fucking point.
Wear it like armour, wear it like sin — just wear it.
/ PRESENTS
Your presence.
Not your presents.
Honestly? Just show your damn face and party with me — that's the whole fucking gift. But if you physically cannot walk in empty-handed, I hear you.
Feeling generous?
I'm practical — I only want things I'll actually use. Everything's on the list.
The wishlist →
Keeping it tiny?
Then bring booze. Prosecco, wine, or vodka — never the wrong answer.
/ THE GUESTBOOK
Are you in?
Don't leave me waiting — reply before SEPTEMBER 31ST