You'd do anything for her. You just keep running out of time.
Have one chat about her and you'll never scramble for a gift again. Every birthday and anniversary, she gets the right thing, with a card in your words, delivered on time. It all comes from you. You just tap yes.
It's free. Have one chat with Evie and she'll find a gift idea that's actually her. Takes about ten minutes, no card needed.
You're not bad at this.
You're just flat out.
- The anniversary you remembered three days too late.
- Waking up on Valentine's Day with that stomach drop.
- Grabbing whatever's closest because there's no time left to think.
- Sitting there with a minute to think and still drawing a blank on what she'd actually love.
- That quiet feeling you got it wrong again, knowing you'll probably do the same next time.
None of that means you don't care. It means your head's full, and when it's full, remembering a date and then picking something that's actually her is the first thing to slip. That's not you being a bad partner. It's just the part I take off your plate so you don't have to think about it.
Three steps. Then you barely
think about it again.
Have one chat with Evie
She asks about your partner: what she's into, what she'd hate, the dates that matter. Takes ten minutes and you're done.
Tap to approve
Before each occasion you get a text or email with the gift Evie's picked. Reply "yep" to send it, or tell her it's not quite right and she'll come back with another. No app, no login.
It turns up
Ordered, wrapped, card in your words, there on time. She opens something that's actually her, and it's from you.
"Honestly, I could just buy it myself."
Yeah, you could. The flowers, the necklace, the weekend away. None of it's hard to buy. That was never the problem.
The problem is the Tuesday in March when her birthday's three weeks out and you're underwater at work. By the time you come up for air it's two days late and you're back at the servo at 6pm.
You can buy the gift. The thing you can't buy, the thing you keep running out of, is the follow-through: remembering the date, choosing something that's actually her, getting the card right. Every occasion, all year, without it ever being one more thing on your plate.
That's the part I do. The gift is yours. I just make sure it actually shows up.
Not one gift.
Every occasion, all year.
- Every date that matters, remembered for you: birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine's, Christmas, the lot.
- A gift picked for her specifically, not some default hamper, based on everything you've told me about her.
- The card, in your words.
- Ordered, wrapped, and there on time. Every time.
- And it's not only the big dates. Feel like doing something for her out of nowhere? Message Evie, tell her what's going on, and she'll sort it. She's the mate who always knows what to get, there whenever you want her, not just when the calendar says so.
It all comes from you. I'm just the part of you that never forgets.
Founding price, locked in for life.
- Everything's covered.Remembering, choosing, the card, getting it there, every occasion, all year. That's the lot.
- Gifts at cost. No markup, ever.You set the budget each time, fifty bucks to five hundred, and you pay exactly what it costs, postage and all. Not a cent more.
- You approve every gift before it's sent.Nothing gets ordered without your yes, and I'll rework it as many times as it takes until you're happy.
- Your first month's on me if I don't impress you.If the way I handle your first gift doesn't win you over, you get the $39 back, no catch. And if a gift ever turns up late, damaged, or not what I promised, I replace it or refund it.
- Month to month. Cancel whenever, no lock-in.The founding price just means that while you're in, your rate never goes up.
I built this for myself first.
I kept getting my wife's gifts wrong. Not because I didn't care. I was flat out, the date would sneak up, and suddenly it's 6pm and I'm at the servo grabbing flowers I'd put no thought into, feeling like I'd let her down again. She was always worth more than that. My head was just full and I'd run out of time.
So I built Evie to fix it: remember the dates, learn what my wife actually loves, and handle the gift before I get anywhere near that servo.
It worked. She noticed. I stopped dreading the calendar. It worked well enough that I wanted to give a few other blokes the same fix.
Ten spots, on purpose
I'm only taking on ten founding members to start, blokes who'll help shape what this becomes. You get:
- The founding price, locked for life.
- A direct line to me for anything.
- First access to everything new.
You never meant to forget.
Now you won't.
One ten-minute chat and you're sorted for every occasion, all year. She'll never know you nearly forgot.