Cassandra grew up in a world of dirt tracks, stock trucks, and hard work. Today, she’s leading a flooring business in a space still dominated by men. This blog reflects on where she came from — and how those early lessons are shaping a new future for our whānau and our business.

Best aisle in PAK’nSAVE? Hands down, the spice aisle. Simple in its beauty, yet complex in its simplicity.

Agency and mana motuhake are about owning your path, backing yourself, and having the courage to choose change—even when the outcome is uncertain. Drawing on the strength of our tūpuna and personal experience, this post explores how we can all step into our power, respond with integrity, and honour those who came before us.

The older generation could run everything from memory — names, quotes, stock — it was impressive. But as we look to scale, we know we can’t keep doing that. We need systems. It’s time to move beyond memory and build something that grows with us.

Some chapters don’t look life-changing while you’re living them. They feel messy, improvised—like you’re just doing what you have to do to get by. But later, when you zoom out, you realise those scrappy, uncertain moments were actually shaping you the most.

After uni, we didn’t have a five-year plan. We barely had a five-day plan. We just knew we wanted to work, explore, and figure things out along the way. What followed was a year of odd jobs, weird industries, and unexpected lessons—none of which looked impressive on a CV, but all of which turned out to matter more than we could’ve guessed.

At the time, it just felt like temp work. Now, we can see it for what it really was: a crash course in adaptability, resilience, and trusting ourselves before we had all the answers.

Remote work has been my norm for many years, so even three months into taking over the whānau business, I still find myself defaulting to working remotely. Now, I’m learning to lean into a new way—a new default—that’s more about being present and connected on the ground.

Matariki: The Anchoring Point in Time

Matariki has grown into a beautiful tradition deeply woven into the fabric of Aotearoa. Reflecting on the past 100 years—from life in 1925 to the technological leaps of today—reminds us how much has changed, and how much remains rooted in our stories and communities. As artificial intelligence reshapes industries like flooring, the real question isn’t just about technology, but whether we’re preparing our businesses, our whānau, and our tamariki for the future already unfolding. Because at the end of the day, we’re not just laying floors — we’re shaping stories and histories that will last generations.

From Van Plans to Floor Plans

We were sixteen, full of big dreams and no idea how things would play out. The plan was simple: buy a van, move to Nelson, and pick fruit. We called it the “gran plan.” University? Nah, that wasn’t for us — or so we thought.

Fast forward, and somehow that fruit-picking dream turned into scholarships, a move to Auckland, and a van that barely made it up the motorway. We’ve travelled the world since — nearly died on a cheese farm, patched a leaking air mattress with a foot pump nailed to a tree, turned down big career offers, and chose whānau and whenua every time.

Now we’re flipping the script again. Cassandra’s running the show — a wahine at the helm of a flooring business, a space not known for female leadership. Me? I’m at home, learning the rhythm of laundry loads and lunchboxes, swapping briefings for breakfasts.

We’ve always backed each other. And like Jordan and Pippen, we know the win doesn’t come from one — it comes from the team.

This isn’t just a business. It’s our next chapter — grounded in whakapapa, built on love, and carried by the same courage that’s guided us through every turn.

From school memories to laying down the future — this project at Ahipara School brought things full circle for us. What used to be the dental clinic and school house is now a modern learning facility designed for the next generation of tamariki. In this blog, we share the journey of installing soft finishings in a place close to our hearts, the unexpected challenges along the way, and why doing the right thing — even when it's inconvenient — is part of how we work.

From catchphrases in corporate life to the rhythms of a whānau-led flooring business, this post explores how lessons from my tech career are helping shape the way we run things now. It’s a story about trust, clarity, and creating the right moments that matter — all through the lens of a flooring job.

Culture isn’t something you build once — it’s something you live every day. From lessons at Trade Me to learning te reo Māori through full immersion, I’ve come to believe that real understanding begins with listening. As we grow our business, we’re not chasing someone else’s vibe — we’re building a culture rooted in whanaungatanga, manaakitanga, and the values that matter most. Because at the heart of everything, he tāngata — it’s the people.

Leaving a six-figure job to take over a whānau business wasn’t easy—but it felt right. In this post, I talk about what it really costs to chase a legacy, the numbers behind survival, and the tools I built to find clarity in chaos. The early days are tough, but every step toward understanding our breakeven is a step toward building something future-facing.

“Floors are the unsung heroes of a home — the part that takes the most wear, yet holds everything steady. That feeling of grounding and beginning again has stayed with me.”

In this post, Cassandra shares her journey from a childhood off-grid in Herekino to co-leading a whānau flooring business in Te Hiku o te Ika — and the deep sense of purpose that’s guiding her every step.