A desperate confession in my group chat shows the ‘mummy cocaine’ trend has gone too far. JANA HOCKING reveals what this very middle-class epidemic has done to the women she once adored

Time for a confession: Last week I grilled the ‘Peter Pans of Sydney’ about their rampant cocaine use, arguing that they are far too old to still be risking their health and relationships for a few hours ‘fun’ on the weekend.

The response was interesting. Yes, I had a lot of women (and men) flooding my DMs to say I was absolutely right. I’ve also had my fair share of abuse from misogynistic little cokeheads who didn’t like me pointing out that cocaine causes erectile dysfunction.

But then I was also reminded to look at my own backyard.

When I focused on how coke had destroyed a generation of men, I had neglected the women over forty who are also hopelessly addicted to the stuff. And there are a lot of of them spend every weekend with strangers in nightclubs, while their poor husbands take care of the children at home.

It’s time to correct the record. I will always hold my own gender accountable (including myself), so it’s only fair that I spill the dirt on what it’s like on the other side of the fence.

Let’s start with a Sunday morning that was unfortunately not that long ago. I woke up with that familiar fear: an emotional hangover combined with a muted sadness. My mouth tasted like the remains of last night’s dirty martinis, and I anxiously scrolled through my texts and Instagram to make sure I hadn’t sent or posted anything regrettable.

‘Thank God,’ I thought as it all became clear. Then the messages started coming in to a WhatsApp group created by some new friends. I felt a somewhat terrible sense of relief when I realized that a few of them were waking up with more anxiety than my stupid little hangover.

‘Oh God. I spent $600 on Coke last night!’ wrote one, subtly hinting that others who had partaken in her “party favors” might want to contribute.

Jana (left) was deep into Sydney’s party scene in the 2010s, when Instagram was new and cocktails cost less than $25. But many women of her generation still party like they are in their twenties or thirties

Suddenly my $120 bar tab seemed like nothing in comparison. A hangover I could handle. A cocaine comedown at my age? No, thank you. I have deadlines to meet and the serotonin reserves I’m clinging to for dear life.

It made me realize something: many of the women I once admired—glamorous, carefree, unstoppable forces on the social scene—are still chasing the same highs as they did in their 20s. We all know that one woman at a party who desperately asks if we’ve seen guys with “a bag.” Sure, it might have been fun to flirt with a guy for a sassy comment when you were young and single, but now it just looks desperate.

I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist to figure out that the stakes are now higher and the consequences are etched in the faces of these women. Botox appointments are becoming more common, not only to combat natural aging, but also to repair the wear and tear that comes from years of trying to keep up.

Take Fiona for example (name changed of course). A real estate agent in her forties, she swears by the ‘one line, one dance floor’ rule she has followed since 1999. But when I saw her at a Christmas party, I barely recognized her. The spark in her eyes was gone, her laugh sounded strained, and her famous cheekbones seemed hollow. Over a few glasses of wine, she confessed, “It’s not every now and then anymore. I think I’ve forgotten how to have fun without it.’

Then there is the alarming trend of women using cocaine as a weight loss drug instead of Ozempic. While so-called “miracle injections” are all over the news, their high price and limited availability have driven some women to a more dangerous (and illegal) alternative.

“It curbs your appetite and gives you energy,” one woman whispered over lunch, as if sharing a life hack. But the reality is very different.

Regular cocaine use not only wreaks havoc on your body, but also creates a dependency that is difficult to escape. The irony is bitter: Women are pursuing health and vitality (I blame you, Gwyneth Paltrow, and all your Goop smiles!) but using a method that’s about as far removed from Goop’s crazy wellness philosophy as you can get. They destroy their bodies from within. As one friend who eventually quit put it, “I wanted to look my best, but I ended up feeling my worst.”

And honestly, why would we willingly put more stress on our bodies? Being a woman in your early forties is tough. Between PMS and the mood swings of perimenopause, we already have enough emotional chaos to contend with. Why add to that the dreaded Tuesday Blues of a weekend ‘on the bags’? No, thanks.

I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist to figure out that the stakes are now higher and the consequences of weekend cocaine binge are etched into these women’s faces (stock image)

Take Amelia, a divorcee in her 50s who recently reentered the dating world. “It’s just to keep up,” she told me over coffee, explaining that her new boyfriend liked to “keep going” after a night out had her returning to her long-abandoned cocaine habit.

But the toll was clear: her glowing skin had given way to visible exhaustion. And her stories about wild nights? They weren’t romantic escapades, but hair-raising tales of lost phones, awkward apologies to babysitters and comedown-induced arguments.

One of the saddest revelations came from Claire, a mother of two who admitted that her “mommy’s little helper” wasn’t just any glass of rosé. “It started with fundraising at school,” she admitted, “but now it’s my favorite thing to do when I feel overwhelmed.” The temporary relief is quickly replaced by sleepless nights, anxiety and guilt that she carries into every parent-teacher conversation.

Don’t get me wrong: these women are not “bad people” or sad caricatures of their younger selves. They are talented, intelligent, and loving individuals who fall into the same cultural trap: the lure of a quick fix, a temporary high to numb the stress and anxiety of middle age. But the price they pay is high.

Physically, the signals are impossible to ignore. The harm of cocaine does not discriminate between genders. It steals your glow, accelerates wrinkles and leaves your body screaming for rest. (Honestly, even one martini can do that to me these days, let alone anything stronger!) Emotionally, the toll is even worse. Relationships falter, trust erodes and self-esteem takes a nosedive.

So why do they keep doing it? The same reasons men do: to escape, to feel alive, to cling to the illusion of youth. But as we all know, illusions shatter.

When I think about the women I once idolized for their effortless charm and unwavering confidence, I can’t help but feel sad. They deserve better. We all do that. So maybe it’s time to say “bon voyage” to “those” types of bags, ladies, and invest in bags that will last. Like a Birkin. It could even be cheaper in the long run – and it will certainly match the outfit better.