A first-person column published in the Daily Mail describes a group of middle-class mothers in Hampstead who say they use cocaine on Friday nights and take sleeping pills afterward so they can meet parental responsibilities the next morning.
Writer Sarah Roik recounts in the piece that, after a week of juggling careers and early motherhood, she and friends have resumed a form of the social life they kept in their twenties. The women described ordering powder by text, arranging delivery to a private address, sharing the cost and the drug among the group, and limiting the hours of their gatherings so they can be up for toddler swim lessons and weekend errands.
Roik writes that the practice has evolved from late-night clubbing to private parties in a friend's townhouse, where curtains are drawn and a small circle of trusted contacts is maintained. She describes dealers whose client lists she says include actors and athletes and notes that prices have risen, with some paying about £60 per gram in earlier years and now splashing £150 for higher-quality powder.
According to the column, the women treat cocaine as a "social lubricant," saying it facilitates extended conversation and intimacy at gatherings. Roik also recounts risks and downsides she witnessed in her pre-parenthood nights out: encounters with strangers while collecting drugs, fear of arrest or worse, and occasions when heavy use led to distressing episodes or a prolonged comedown.
The piece outlines how patterns changed with pregnancy and early childcare. Roik says she spent roughly 18 months teetotal while pregnant and breastfeeding, then gradually returned to socialising with her peers once sleep-deprived parenting routines eased. The group reportedly now follows a "rule of six": a minimum of six hours' rest after using stimulants is treated as non-negotiable.
Roik writes that sleeping pills such as lorazepam are used deliberately to ensure a good night's sleep and enable the mothers to perform Saturday morning duties. She says partners are generally aware and, in at least one described relationship, tolerate the behaviour so long as it occurs away from the child and the parent remains capable the following day.
The account traces the behaviour back to the women's twenties, when procuring class A drugs was a routine part of nightlife. Roik contrasts those earlier years of few responsibilities and long nights with the current approach, in which gatherings centre on private homes and conversation about the practical and emotional realities of contemporary parenthood.
Roik's column documents both the appeal and the hazards of the activity from her perspective. She recounts moments when conversations turned raw and when the effects of the drug caused disorientation. She also notes that, while the gatherings provide an escape and a way to reclaim aspects of pre-parenthood identity, they remain confined by childcare schedules, professional commitments and financial cost.
The column does not present independent verification beyond the author's account. It offers a window into how one social circle in a London neighbourhood says it balances illicit drug use with parenting responsibilities, and how members of that circle have adapted practices such as using trusted suppliers, meeting in private homes and pairing stimulants with sedatives to manage rest.
Roik concludes by questioning whether the routine will continue long term, but she writes that, for now, she and her friends see no immediate reason to stop while their diaries and finances permit.