The Long Table

Alignment, community, and food, glorious food

There’s something slightly surreal about finding yourself at a beautifully curated long table at Token in South Yarra when your usual relationship to that part of town is… less refined.

If I’m in the vicinity of Chapel Street, it’s normally because I’m popping into Revs, not a fancy restaurant. (Appreciate this reference means absolutely nothing outside Melbourne, so just substitute your own nightspot-of-disrepute equivalent.)

But last week I traded dancing shoes and poor decisions for the Fine Form Long Table, hosted by Rebecca Jarvie Gibb and Jules Fedele - an evening that brought together 16 women navigating work across multiple passions, pursuits, and identities.

We talked a lot about ‘working in alignment’, which can sound a little abstract until you really sit with it.

I think alignment is often less about finding the mythical notion of a perfect job, and more about whether your work genuinely fits your values.

And the true test of values - for individuals and companies alike - is what happens when they come into conflict with cold hard cash. Ultimately I believe the proof is in action, not words, and taking those actions even when it hurts you somewhere else. When it comes down to it, will you leave money on the table or disappoint people in order to stay honest with yourself?

A year or so ago, I realised my own deepest value is freedom. Which, in hindsight, explained a lot. I’ve always been drawn to travel and adventure. I have moved house (and city, and sometimes even country) so many times as an adult that it has become almost ludicrous. I didn’t have a mobile phone contract until I was in my mid-30s.

When I worked this out, I finally understood why I never quite fit a more predictable corporate environment, even though there were lots of excellent things about my job.

Another core value for me is community.

Which also explained a lot - particularly why my early days as a solopreneur felt so lonely. I’d moved towards freedom, but in the process had inadvertently removed the ecosystem around me.

These days, finding a balance between independent and collaborative work has changed everything. I’m infinitely happier. Probably better at my job too.

The evening itself reinforced something else I’ve been thinking about a lot lately - how much environment shapes conversation.

Food as ritual.

There’s something about gathering around a table that changes dynamics almost immediately. People soften, and are more open. Ideas move differently.

Researchers call it “commensality,” which is a very academic way of saying that people connect differently when there are dumplings involved.

Research on the social practice of eating together suggests shared meals foster cooperation, belonging, and emotional closeness, partly because meals function as rituals rather than simple consumption. The 2025 World Happiness Report even dedicated an entire chapter to meal sharing, finding that eating with others is strongly associated with wellbeing and positive social connection across cultures.

A long table creates planned serendipity. It offers enough structure to bring people together, and enough openness for unexpected connections to emerge, without feeling forced or overly orchestrated.

Good creative communities do the same thing. They create the conditions for collisions.

Also: these things should be FUN.

Collaboration, work, life - none of them need to feel like an endless slog. There’s a common misconception that seriousness is a proxy for importance, as though enjoyment somehow diminishes the value of what’s being created. The exact opposite is true - play is what leads to productivity, innovation and creativity. Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had have happened over shared meals

Speaking of which: the food.

I was trying extremely hard to appear sophisticated and restrained, but repeatedly found myself shamelessly stuffing wontons into my mouth whenever conversation attention shifted elsewhere.

Many of the photos from the evening are unusable for this reason.

Je ne regrette rien.