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The Guardian
2 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
Six interior styling tips to make your home feel warmer
I grew up in a house where cosiness was a year-round thing, not just a winter trend. Mum should have been an interior decorator – she chose nursing instead – but her love of decorating meant our childhood home was filled with perfectly fluffed cushions, chunky knit throw rugs and so many candles that Dad would joke we'd be completely fine in a blackout. Growing up in that kind of environment obviously had an impact on me. Now, after 15 years as an interior designer, I've realised that cosy doesn't come from spending money. It comes from knowing what to do with what you've got, where to put it, and how to take care of what you have. Whether you have plenty of space or you're in a tiny studio, there are simple and effective ways to warm up a space. Rather than shopping for the sake of it, it's about creating a feeling of softness and thoughtfulness. A well-thought-out home will feature some of the things I've listed below, and they will go a long way towards helping the people using the space feel welcomed and comfortable. No seriously, I do this often, especially when I first meet a client and they've told me something feels off about a room. Generally it's because they've put all their furniture around the perimeter and there's a dancefloor-sized space in the middle that feels completely naked. To counter that bare feeling, pull furniture away from the walls, add rugs as large as you can afford, and position the furniture on top of the rugs. By creating smaller, more contained spaces within the room you're instantly adding warmth and cosiness. If you are buying new furniture, opt for a single sofa and large occasional chairs positioned opposite, rather than the gigantic modular sofas that are popular at the moment. This will create a 'conversational zone' and allow your guests to get comfortable and chat, rather than disappearing into the depths of your modular cushions. Overhead lighting is the enemy in my house; once the sun sets, it's wall sconces and table lamps only. I use smart bulbs in a number of my table lamps so I can dim and brighten the lights from my phone to suit the mood. One simple way to transform a space is to add warm light. In clients' homes, I'm always asking the electrician to swap out the lightbulbs to warm white bulbs rather than cool white. The warmer white tone is much more flattering and also feels less like an interrogation room. Combine smaller table lights or lamps with warm lightbulbs and you've got cosiness at the flick of a switch. OK, this one seems obvious, but what sofa is complete without a few throws? I fold them and drape them over the edge of the sofa so they're at arm's reach when you're at peak rancho relaxo mode in front of the TV. I also drape them across the end of the bed to pull up and snuggle under when it's extra chilly at night. In winter, opt for cotton or woollen throws to keep you warm. Linen throws are great for a lightweight fabric to add texture to a space in the warmer months. Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion Curtains aren't what clients mention first when we walk through a room they need help furnishing, but they are the thing that helps finish a space. Sometimes their value is purely aesthetic, and that can be reason enough. Curtains create a layered look in the room, plus there's the benefit of sound absorption for large open spaces with lots of hard finishes. For the best fit, have curtains custom-made to fit the windows rather than buying off the shelf, that way you're guaranteed to have them sitting at the right height off the ground and they'll be hung at the right height for the ceiling too. In my opinion, books are the hero of any home. They tell a story of who lives there, they're something guests will often pick up and flip through – and they're great styling tools for arranging on coffee tables or stacking up the wall. They create cosiness without looking messy. My favourite way to style a bookshelf is by colour coordinating the books and mixing up the placement. I'll often leave a gap for breathing space on the shelf and then lay three books on top of one another topped with a little styling item – an ornament or candle, for example – to make the shelf a bit more exciting. Scent shouldn't be overlooked when it comes to adding cosiness to a space. Hotel lobbies are an example of how scent changes everything; a carefully chosen smell has a lasting impression. Candles are a relatively inexpensive way to add a beautiful scent to your room. I always have a candle in the lounge room on the coffee table, on the console table at the entry to greet guests and then a fresh scent in the kitchen that doesn't compete with any cooking smells. Emma Blomfield is the author of Style Your Home: Design Secrets for Styling with Confidence (Hardie Grant Books, $39.99)


Metro
2 days ago
- General
- Metro
Dad forced Mum out the house and she never came back
My life changed forever the night my mother was thrown out of the house. It was Christmas Day 2003 but instead of excitement and joy, the air had been thick with tension. As usual, there'd been no spontaneity, no ripping of wrapping paper. Rather, my brother and I had opened our presents like robots. Dad always marked each present with a number, which meant each gift was to be opened in a specific order according to a corresponding piece of paper he held and, even then, it was only allowed with his nod of approval. Every day was like this. We lived according to his rules and his rules only. Every dinnertime, we all sat in assigned places that he set, and though we all tried our best to obey these rules for the sake of a quiet day, at Christmas it was especially hard. Dad demanded so much more from everyone, but Mum usually took the brunt of it. And so, without fail on Christmas Eve we would hear them shouting at each other. On Christmas Day, while Dad controlled our movements, Mum sat very still, muted and switched off knowing the best way to survive the day was to say as little as possible. With thousands of members from all over the world, our vibrant LGBTQ+ WhatsApp channel is a hub for all the latest news and important issues that face the LGBTQ+ community. Simply click on this link, select 'Join Chat' and you're in! Don't forget to turn on notifications! But, an argument ignited over something minor. Dad wanted to go to the pub and have a break from my brother and I, but Mum was too tired to go with him so went upstairs for a lie-down. That was a mistake. I soon heard a crash as Dad dragged her from their bed and across the landing. Violence was nothing new in our home, but its familiarity didn't make it any easier on me. I was only 11 years old – the sounds from upstairs were enough to immobilise me completely. I just stood there, my body frozen to the spot but my mind racing in panic for Mum. My brother, meanwhile – who is two years older than me and like Dad he showed off, bullied people, and could be violent too – seemed poised to jump to Dad's aid. The conflict, now downstairs, saw Mum backed into the corner with Dad holding one arm, and my brother holding the other. They were physically preventing her from defending herself. Both of them had hold of her, pulling her and yet I still couldn't move. Instinctively, I reached for the phone and sat on the stairs. I knew that what they were doing was wrong, but I also knew that if I called the police, I would be betraying the ultimate unwritten law of the house: Stay silent, and don't rock the boat – ever. And then I caught what a glimpse of my mother, as she flew past me, her tiny frame racing through the front door into the cold Christmas night. This series aims to offer a nuanced look at familial estrangement. Estrangement is not a one-size-fits-all situation, and we want to give voice to those who've been through it themselves. If you've experienced estrangement personally and want to share your story, you can email She was just gone. Once my family had fractured like a mirror, things began to change suddenly. Though there was already a system of rules and punishments in place, immediately after Mum's departure, Dad introduced even stricter rules. House phones were taken from the charging cradles and doors that were open – like the kitchen door that joined from the hallway to the living room – were shut. And if the living room doors were closed, you couldn't go in. My brother and I were then confined to our bedrooms outside of mealtimes meaning my world grew smaller overnight. The house lost its colour, literally: Mum had chosen the previous brighter colours of yellow in the kitchen and pink in the living room but now Dad had everything painted over in beiges and creams. The place felt bare and cold and like no happiness or joy existed there – which, certainly in my case, felt true. I became introverted and depressed. By New Year's that same year, the woman who would become my new stepmother moved in. Seeing her silver Mercedes glistening in the driveway – that I later learned Dad had bought for her – I suddenly understood the new furniture in the house and the need to redecorate. It was all for her, to make it seem that we could be this shiny new, happy family. Of course, we were anything but. Within a matter of months my brother left out of jealousy of the attention my father gave her and moved in with my grandmother. And as much as I wanted to escape too, that wasn't an option for me. Nanny had always disliked me for being 'too feminine', and she wasn't accepting of me being autistic. Her favourite thing to say was 'that Aspergers don't wash with me.' I was quickly moved from my bedroom to the furthest end of the house so my stepmother could have my room to store her clothes and have a makeup table. I felt like I was being locked away, erased. I had been grappling with my identity throughout this, and I finally came to terms with the fact that I was trans. But I couldn't exist as myself in the house – there was already so much conflict. At night I could hear her and him arguing – in one particularly bad argument, she threw a kettle of boiling water over him. But as always, she would stay, and they would argue again the next day. I noticed that Dad was not buying food and I was getting uncomfortably hungry – especially when he would go on holiday with my stepmother, leaving me alone at home. Eventually I confessed what was happening to a school teacher and they began boarding me at school with the fees charged to the state. It was hard, being an all boys school, since I hadn't come out as trans, but I grew to appreciate the stability and predictability. More Trending Now at 33, I live alone, I pay my mortgage and have my own space. And I'm finally able to pursue gender reassignment without fear. I can choose my own clothes and eat what I want when I want without fear of retaliation. Through the years I witnessed Dad-like behaviour in landlords, bosses and even romantic partners and I would have to make a quick exit. I knew where it could lead and was not going to tolerate it. Despite repeated attempts to get in touch with my mum, I have never been able to re-establish proper contact with her. In fact, I've never reconnected with either of my parents. That Christmas night went a long way into shaping me as a person, and if I learned anything, it's that the only person you can rely on is yourself and that is what I have always had to do and will continue to do because most people are unreliable, and some are even dangerous. Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: 'Queer stories in period dramas aren't seen often – everyone was kissing back then' MORE: Thousands of people got a phone alert asking them if I was hot MORE: Man who tortured woman 'made her phone mum to say goodbye' during 10-hour ordeal Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.


The Sun
5 days ago
- Politics
- The Sun
Ukrainian TV chef reveals her mum's heartbreaking last act before being forced out of family home by Russian invaders
MUM and Dad had a good life. Their house was by a bank of the river Dnipro in the south of Ukraine. Huge golden sunflower fields stretching as far as the eye can see, as hot as the Mediterranean, and just a 50-mile drive from the Crimean peninsula and the Black Sea. 8 8 They planted an orchard and Dad dug out a pond that he filled with carp and sturgeon. I would visit with my British husband Joe and our children at least twice a year, the last time being August 2021. There are photos of my big extended family having a barbecue on Ukraine's Independence Day, my younger son Wilfred eating a peach the size of his head, juice dripping all over his chin and belly. There is a video of my Joe laughing with my dad, brother and cousins, my father telling Ukrainian dad jokes using a mixture of broken English and expressive gestures. He is such a good actor. Just six months later he would use those acting skills again. But this time it wasn't a family comedy but a scene straight out of an apocalyptic movie. My mum and dad were escaping as Russia's full-scale invasion of my homeland reached their front door, and I ordered him to play dumb. 'If the Russians stop you,' I said, 'Pretend to be an idiot. Do not argue, do not show emotion.' The Russians drove their tanks into Kakhovka on the first day of the invasion on February 22, 2022. My parents and other locals went to protest every day in the centre of town. But eventually the invaders started shooting into the crowd. Torture chambers Then my dad received a phone call. A man with a sharp Russian accent demanded that he give up the keys to his and mum's businesses (Mum ran a small B&B in town). The Russian barked: 'We also know that your son joined the Ukrainian Territorial Army. Tell him to put down his arms, or else.' Dad — headstrong and courageous as he is — completely ignored my instructions and said something like: 'Over my dead body.' The Russian made it clear that he should be careful what he wished for. I freaked out when Mum told me this and urged them to leave. We have all seen reports that the Russians set up special 'basements' all over the occupied regions. 8 For basements, read torture chambers. I wish I was exaggerating, but I am not. People started disappearing in Ukraine's occupied areas. My own brother, Sasha, was defending Kyiv with other ex-civilians — people from all walks of life. In his regiment there was a baker, an IT guy, an actor and a builder. Sasha later told me how they were stuck on one side of the river Irpin near Kyiv, only a thousand of them or so — and on the other were 15,000 of Putin's Chechen henchmen. They were lucky, my brother told me — the weather and Russia's poor logistics organisation meant that not only did he and the others survive, but they were able to repel the attack and save the capital. Only a few months ago, Sasha admitted to me that shrapnel had grazed against his thigh. Not everyone was so lucky. At home in London, I was freaking out. Parents under occupation, brother in Irpin, and then the news about what happened in Bucha, very close to where my brother was located. Bucha was liberated, and soon it became evident just how many civilians the Russians had killed — mass graves and all manner of other horrors. I lost my mind and shouted down the phone to my mum for them to leave until they finally relented. They grabbed two suitcases — one with clothes, another with family photographs, letters and Mum's hand-stitched embroideries. They dug any valuables they had into the ground, in case they would return in the future, and they drove. But not before my mum scrubbed the whole house until it shined. It was one of the most heartbreaking things for me to hear — and for my mum to tell — how she tidied up her house before they left, imagining how a Russian woman might move into it and remark on how tidy everything was. 8 8 Ukrainians take huge pride in keeping their homes cosy and beautiful. Just like here in the UK, our home is our castle. My other family and friends followed them a day later. They had to break through 19 Russian checkpoints and witnessed craters as big as the moon's, left by artillery and missiles. Mum and Dad drove for five days through Europe, a difficult thing at the best of times, and even harder given that Dad suffers from Parkinson's tremors. They went to stay with my cousins in Berlin. But within the first two months, Dad decided he couldn't do it. 'I will die from inaction and depression here, Olia. I am going back,' he told me. Mum was so broken, she did not go with him. She said she could not imagine living in Ukraine while Kakhovka was occupied, while Russians lived in her home. Planning to reunite To explain the severity of their separation, my mum and dad met at primary school. They are both 67 and they had known each other for 60 years already, and been married for 50. My dad is in Ukraine now, and Kakhovka is still occupied by the Russians. It is a ghost town and is pummelled by Russians on a regular basis (they use old Soviet launchers that are not exactly precise, so when they try to shoot at a town on the front line, it can fall anywhere). Russian FSB officers moved into my parents' beautiful home. Dad found out his factory warehouse was used to house Russian tanks, so he told Ukrainian intelligence the coordinates. When Russia invaded, mum and dad went into town every day to protest. Eventually the invaders started shooting the crowd Olia Hercules After careful reconnaissance and making sure that it was safe to do so, the Ukrainian army hit it and destroyed the tanks, along with my dad's warehouse. I am sure Dad is heartbroken about his life's work being turned into rubble, but he told me he had no regrets. He is now with his sister and nephew in another unoccupied region of Ukraine. Ukraine is now the most mined country in the world, so Dad is using his engineering skills to convert an old tractor into a driverless minesweeper. Mum is still in Berlin, but she is planning to reunite with Dad next year. She has accepted they may have lost their home forever, and started entertaining the idea to start anew in another part of Ukraine. 8 8 This is because, unlike in the 1990s after independence, Ukrainians do not want to live elsewhere. Everyone just wants to be back home. My parents want to be within their community, speaking their own language. They crave the south Ukrainian sunshine, they want to dig around in their garden, they want us to visit them there, to clink glasses and eat delicious food, and to tell silly jokes. For my youngest Wilfred, five, and my older son Sasha, 13, to run around and gorge themselves on massive peaches. It's because of this love — love of a country that people like my dad and mum worked so hard to build — that I know we will not stop fighting. As English author G.K. Chesterton said: 'The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.' But you don't need to be a soldier to fight. My weapon is my pen and my ability to translate our human experience to people in the UK through my cookbooks, which are full of snippets of my family history and now, hopefully, through the family memoir I have written. Rebuild and flourish It has been incredible to receive so much support, because people knew me and trusted me. Within a week of the war starting, I had been able to raise enough money to supply ballistic vests and helmets, boots and even ballistic underwear, and to get it delivered just a day before my brother and 105 people in his regiment went into battle. I will never forget this generosity of the British, the post-war spirit and the Keep Calm And Carry On philosophy which is so keenly adopted by everyone in Ukraine. War news fatigue is real — I get it. It is not easy to keep looking at the horrific news, at the distressing headlines. But with 'peace talks' looming, I hope people do not forget that what the media call 'territories' are not faceless dots on the map. They are places that still hold our homes, our memories and our people. Not everyone was able to leave like my parents did. I have plenty of friends and family who had to stay behind, to look after the 'unmovable' — the elderly or ill parents or even neighbours. People started disappearing. My brother was defending Kyiv. My father's life was threatened. Mass graves, all manner of horrors. I lost my mind and shouted down the phone for them to leave Olia Hercules If those areas are given to Russia, the war will not cease for them. Like other places that Putin grabbed over the years — Abkhazia and Ossetia in the Caucasus, East Ukraine and Crimea — they will become 'grey zones', internationally unrecognised, with no life and no future. One thing my parents and my grandparents taught me was to never give up, and to never give up hope. I will be honest, it has been very up and down. But even on the lowest day I know that Ukrainians will never relent, and will never give up the fight, and the hope that we will return, rebuild and flourish. As my late grandmother used to say: 'Always look at the roots. If the roots are strong, it doesn't matter if the wind blows off the pretty petals. 'If the roots are strong, it doesn't matter if a storm breaks the fragile stem. 'It will all grow back again.' Strong Roots: A Ukrainian Family Story Of War, Exile And Hope, by Olia Hercules, is out on Thursday. 8


Daily Mirror
6 days ago
- Daily Mirror
'I took Mum on a cruise holiday after Dad died - it was a poignant reminder'
My teacher parents, after laying down their chalk and retiring, got a taste for cruises. Holidays had never been better. Then Mum's best shipmate died – suddenly, horribly – leaving her in a strange new world. Summers lost their shine, well, everything did, but she'd still gaze longingly at cruise deals. Enter: me. The busy, messy, wild middle-aged child, offering to share a cabin on a week-long MSC Mediterranean cruise. I'd been promising her a proper catch-up for ages, and this was one way of doing it. Multi-generational holidays, with younger kids, parents and grandparents, are nothing new – a study showed a third of adults have been on one in the past three years, with the Boomer generation generally picking up the bill. And MSC says 28% of its travellers now cruise with three to five generations, and its ships are designed with activities to suit all ages. But this was different – a "mummer" holiday – proper bonding time, with grandchildren at home. Gavin and Stacey's Ruth Jones goes on cruises with her mum and no one had been thrown overboard, so the combination could work. Mum and I flew to Rome and met MSC Seaview at Civitavecchia Port. We woke up every day in a new location – Majorca, Barcelona, Cannes, Genoa, and La Spezia – before sailing back to Rome. This was my first cruise, so it was completely uncharted waters. We spent the first day at sea, getting lost and acquainted with Seaview's 19 decks, waterfront boardwalk, and dizzying, glass-floored Bridge of Sighs. Seaview was launched in 2017 and has room for 4,100 passengers and 1,000 crew, with a theatre, casino, spa, ten-pin bowling, indoor and outdoor pools, hot tubs and 19 lounges and bars, including a chocolate-themed one. There wasn't a tired-looking part of the ship, save our faces on day one. The atrium is its classy party core, spanning four decks, where there's live music and staircases that sparkle like the sea thanks to hundreds of Swarovski crystals in each step. A cheery mix of ages and nationalities onboard, too – MSC is an Italian-Swiss line, so lots of "fit Italian fellas", as my 76-year-old mother, Janet, noted. The daytime noise, games and kids' splashy-and-sporty zones are considerately confined to deck 16, with its Panorama pool and 425ft zip wire – I strapped in and squealed high above sunbathers, while Mum declined the offer, but took thrilling footage of my ankles. Technology is not Janet's strong point, but she had a go, with me as tech support, scanning her first-ever QR code to read the evening menus at our allocated Silver Dolphin restaurant, where she also had her first taste of octopus and dolphinfish (thankfully no relation to Flipper). She was eventually able to navigate the useful MSC app, smart lifts and touch screens dotted around the decks, where you can access information about the ship and your itinerary. Only one trip to the IT desk onboard was required – very much user error. Pulling back the curtains to a new place each morning felt like a dream. Majorca was a revelation for her, wandering sleepy, sun-dappled cobbled streets, me saying 'watch your step' every step of the way. We cooed at the cathedral, sniffed bougainvillea, and tried on fedoras and sunglasses. Janet loves to shop, and dilly-dally, and talk to anyone who will listen, whether they speak English or not. I'm used to racing about, herding young kids, but by virtue of her wonky knees, we stopped for coffees and ice-cream, and actually finished conversations. Early starts to disembark paid off, as we were back on board to catch a theatre show and seek out the champagne bar – Mum's favourite place to wet her whistle. Our package allowed for 15 drinks each day, which I dare anyone to manage. Barcelona brought more laughter. It was a short shuffle to the stalls of La Rambla, for a long shuffle around the famous La Boquería market, heaving with people, pastries, olives, strawberries… and unmentionable meat counters. My stomach, having valiantly tried to hit my 15-a-day the night before, was ill-prepared for the offal, eyes, teeth and tongues. Stomachs settled down on board. While evening meals at the main restaurant were hit and miss, the two speciality restaurants smashed it – Butcher's Cut (excellent surf and turf) and our favourite, the Teppanyaki restaurant, where Japanese dishes were cooked in front of us and chef Rafael put on a high-energy show, serenading us with with Tina Turner, juggling eggs and pulling surprises from his hat, before throwing morsels at my mum's mouth, and somehow missing. Twin beds had been arranged for us, and drifting off at night was easy – a surprise as we're both used to sleeping solo. Our cabin, on deck 11, near the panoramic lift, had enough space to swing a dog, and was blessed with a balcony, sofa, safe, mini bar, interactive TV, and an impressive en suite with a powerful shower. Admirable storage, too, where Mum could hide her eight pairs of shoes, most of which didn't touch foreign soil. Here, I was the brains (though that's debatable) and brawn, sorting excursions, dragging bags and retracing many, many steps when we'd lost things. Mum, however, was the bringer of order in our cabin. She's used to running a tight ship at home, whereas I just about tread water. We settled into a Bert and Ernie evening routine at bedtime, with silly jokes and unsolicited relationship advice. Any accounts of my snoring should be immediately discounted – and we can now laugh about her falling over my phone charger cable on a 1am flit to the loo. When her bed called for her earlier than mine, I sampled late-night Seaview, its White Party (where guests wear white clothes), silent disco, gay night and karaoke, and watched couples dance or just gazed at the moon. It was really special to wake up, reach out and hold hands in the morning, even if it was then followed by a dash to the mighty breakfast buffet to stuff ourselves and race for the tender. Which we almost missed to Cannes, which was busy setting up for the film festival. We paused for A-list-price orange juice (Janet: '27 euros for three orange juices?! I wanted a drink not the whole plantation') and sauntered past Dior and Chanel stores down glamorous Boulevard de La Croisette, for a paddle in the Med among the beautiful people, with Seaview in the distance. There, was Mum probably the only person singing 'I do like to be beside the seaside', with chocolate ice cream down her best vest. 'She's restless like the sea, your mother,' my dad once beautifully said. These days, you'd call it undiagnosed ADHD. We had two excursions booked in ('school trips for grown-ups!') and saved ours for last, on our two Italian stop-offs. From Genoa, which shares the St George's Cross flag, and is birthplace of that other hardy sailor, Christopher Columbus, we took a bus to the fishing village of Camogli, with its double-take dreamy buildings and clanging church bells, catching a boat to tiny Portofino, loved by Tom Hanks and Michelle Obama for its snorkelling, and where Dolce and Gabbana have a villa retreat. We, however, had free ice-cream vouchers, so we felt like life's real stars. The swooniness continued, arriving in La Spezia, for our seven-hour Italian Riviera Cinque Terre tour, via bus, boat, train and Shank's pony. Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore – a string of five famously pretty ancient fishing villages on rugged coastline, dripping with vineyards, charm and surprising colour – are such head-turners they're now a Unesco World Heritage Site. We got bonus beauty, too, with a guided wander around Portovenere, the Port of Venus, to load up on heavenly pesto and focaccia. It's the jewel of the Bay of Poets, an area that stirred the souls of Shelley and Byron. Dad would have loved it. The boat trip was magical, the train from Monterosso back to Genoa a hoot, the final push to the bus, herding a tired, sweaty pensioner in the 26C heat, less so. 'Are we there, yet, Kay?' Talk about role reversal. It was an early night for both of us for the trip back to Rome, and our flight back home. Time had flown – we'd been having too much fun. We also got friendly with a psychologist from New York (her services were not needed) who was there with her older mum for a belated Mother's Day treat – they'd upgraded to the Yacht Club premium experience, including 24-hour butler service and gourmet dining. Four countries in seven days felt wild, especially as I work from home and struggle to visit four rooms in a week. But it was the enforced closeness with Mum that made it so special – a reminder to make memories before that ship has sailed. A seven-night MSC cruise from Rome visiting: Palma de Mallorca (Baleari Is), Spain; Barcelona, Spain; Cannes (Côte d'Azur), France; Genoa (Portofino), Italy; La Spezia (Cinque Terre), Italy costs from £1,399. Visit


Time of India
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Time of India
25+ Best Father's Day 2025 Instagram captions for your dad
Father's Day Instagram captions: Father's Day 2025 is around the corner, and it's the perfect time to show some love to the man who's always been there for you—your dad. Whether he's your hero, best friend, or biggest supporter, a thoughtful Instagram post can let the world know just how much he means to you. But we get it—finding the perfect Father's Day Instagram captions can be tricky. So, we've done the hard part for you! Here's a list of more than 25 sweet, funny, and heartfelt captions that are ideal for your Father's Day post in 2025. Why a Good Father's Day Caption Matters On Father's Day 2025, sharing a photo with your dad on Instagram is great—but pairing it with the right words makes it truly special. A well-chosen caption can bring a smile, a laugh, or even a tear. It adds that personal touch that shows your dad how much he's loved and appreciated. Think about what kind of person your dad is. Does he enjoy cracking dad jokes? Is he the emotional type who tears up at heartfelt messages? Or maybe he's a wise man who enjoys meaningful quotes? Once you know his style, choosing the right Father's Day Instagram caption becomes easier. Sweet and Sentimental Father's Day Instagram Captions Looking for something meaningful and full of love? These Father's Day 2025 Instagram captions are sure to touch your dad's heart: A daughter may outgrow your lap but never your heart. I've learnt so much from you, Dad. Thanks for everything. Dad: A son's first hero, a daughter's first love. My dad will always have a special place in my heart. Home isn't just a place—it's wherever you are, Dad. Thank you, Dad, for being the guiding light in my life. Life doesn't come with a manual, but it comes with a father. Everything good in me came from you. You've always made ordinary moments feel magical. When I think of a great man, I think of my dad. Use these captions to bring warmth to your Father's Day photo and make your dad feel truly special. Funny Father's Day Captions for Instagram If your dad has a great sense of humour or loves a good dad joke, go for a funny caption! These light-hearted Father's Day Instagram captions 2025 will get a good laugh: World's greatest farter… I mean father. Dad, you're so cool—you had a dad bod before it was trendy! Thanks for always saying "yes" when Mum said "no". You're the reason I believe in superheroes (and bad puns). Thanks for killing all those spiders—I still owe you. Happy Father's Day! Today I'll laugh at all your jokes. Even the bad ones. Dad, I can never repay you. Literally. You gave me your sense of humour—and your inability to find anything in the fridge. I hope this Father's Day is as fun as your life was before kids. You'll always be dad to the bone. Tag your dad in your post with one of these captions and let the laughs roll in! Short and Snappy Captions for Father's Day 2025 Sometimes, less is more. These short Father's Day 2025 captions are perfect if you want to keep things simple: Best dad ever. Forever grateful. My hero, always. Love you, Dad! Thank you for everything. You're simply the best. No one like you, Dad. Always in my heart. These quick captions pair perfectly with a throwback photo or a selfie with your dad. Father's Day 2025 hashtags #FathersDay2025 #BestDadEver #FathersDayCaptions #ThanksDad #DadAppreciation #MyHeroDad #FatherhoodLove #DadAndMe #SuperdadVibes #GratefulForDad #DadGoals #HeartfeltCaptions #FathersDayPost #DadInspo #DadLife2025 #EmotionalTribute #FathersDayFeels #DadsRock #DadHumour #LoveYouDadAlways These hashtags blend emotional value, relevance to Father's Day 2025, and popular trends, making them perfect for Instagram, Twitter, or any social media platform. Bonus Tip: Make Your Post Stand Out To make your Father's Day 2025 post even more special, consider adding: A favourite photo memory with Dad A childhood picture A caption inspired by his favourite song or quote A personal thank-you message You can also use Father's Day Instagram captions as the perfect message for cards, WhatsApp status, or even a toast at your family dinner. No matter what kind of dad you have—funny, sentimental, wise, or all three—there's a Father's Day caption here that will suit him perfectly. Use this list to celebrate your dad with love, laughter, and style on Father's Day 2025. Whether you post a heartfelt message or a hilarious joke, your dad will surely feel the love. For more informative articles on historical and upcoming events from around the world, please visit Indiatimes Events.