Valentine’s Day
But Make It Yours!
I’ve never really been a huge Valentine’s Day person. I don’t hate it, but I’ve always felt a little sideways about it. My gut check has always been that it’s overrated, overpriced, and somehow turned into this once-a-year checkpoint where your partner is expected to prove they care. That framework has never landed for me. Love isn’t loud once a year. It’s supposed to be steady. Quiet. Repeated. Or at least that’s my fantasy.
Then there’s the consumerism of it all. Marked up flowers. Panic booked prix fixe menus. Spending a hundred plus dollars on a mediocre steak because February 14th has become a hostage situation. None of that feels romantic to me. It feels forced. Love shouldn’t be monetary. It shouldn’t be a one night performance. It’s not twelve obligatory gestures wrapped in red cellophane.
That said, I don’t think Valentine’s Day has to be a hard no. I just think it needs to be reclaimed. One of my favorite Valentine’s Days ever was popping open a perfectly chilled Beaujolais, chatting until it turned into full-blown laughter, disappearing into the bedroom for an hour, then ordering a whole pie from Best Pizza and putting on a movie. No outfits. No reservations. No overpriced steak. Just being together at home.
Last year was my first Valentine’s Day as a mom, and I was basically in a blackout state. I had Mars on February 6, so I was eight days into motherhood and sitting on a donut to pee. Lingerie, along with any plan that required standing upright for an extended period, was off the table. Everything about love looks different now. Carving out space as a couple feels more important than ever. Whether that’s a babysitter and time alone upstairs or stealing quiet moments together around bedtime, it all counts.
So this issue of The Fifth Course is about Valentine’s Day, but doing it your way. Removing the pressure. Shrinking the spectacle. Choosing time together over a curated, cellophane-wrapped tradition. Just you and your boo thang, however that looks right now.
MEAL IN (AND OUT, FOR THIS ONE)
A Valentine’s Day meal that doesn’t feel like restaurant cosplay. Something indulgent but low-pressure. Something you can cook together, or something one person cooks for the other. No stress. No perfection. No twelve-step plating situation.
Valentine’s Day Recipe: Shrimp risotto +Affogato
Valentines out (where i would go): Soup dumplings, Thai, Pizza
WHAT’S ON THE PASS
Beyond my intrusive, deeply non Valentine’s Day loving thoughts, the energy I’m bringing to February 14 this year is honest love. I’m treating it as permission. Permission to go out or stay in, pour a drink, connect, cook, slow down, and yes, without question, lock in the babysitter. These are my Valentine’s Day modes, this year and every year.
The Cozy Valentine
Order in without guilt. Put on a movie you already love or finally press play on the one that’s been haunting your list. Preorder snacks, claim the couch, light the candles. Blankets on. Phones off. Do not move.
The Sexy Valentine (with food)
Stay home. Open a bottle of wine or say fuck it and shake martinis. Music on, lights low, let the house smell good. One intentional, intimate moment. Not a production.
Food sets the tone here. Either lean cozy with a creamy shrimp risotto or turn the heat up, shuck some oysters, and keep the boozy sips coming.
The Play Valentine
Game night energy. Cards, a board game, or something a little dumb in the best way. I’ve been dying to do one of those paint each other dates and this might finally be the year. Snacks, wine, laughter, and two truly terrible paintings you’ll never throw away.
The Nostalgia Valentine
Recreate your first date. Just do it. Relive the nerves, the goggly eyes, the who texts who first energy. Talk about the beginning, the tiny moments, and remember how it all started.
SOUND BITES
FEB PLAYLIST - She’s hot, sexy, and playful
CLOSING NOTE
Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to look like anything. It doesn’t need roses or reservations. You get to decide what it means.
Whether it’s hours spent tangled up, a game night, ordering in, cooking breakfast, fully committing to the couch, or doing absolutely nothing at all, the only real requirement is choosing time together.
Here’s to love that’s consistent, thoughtful, and real. To choose each other in ways that actually fit your life, not the version sold to you once a year.
xx
Gina