For a long time, Alli didn’t ‘understand’ her mum. Now they’re running a bar together

Catherine Gibson Roy, 56, and her daughter Alli, 35, own and run a bar in Sydney’s inner west, where family dynamics can be as challenging as new cocktail recipes.

Catherine and Alli Gibson Roy: “I had to learn to appreciate who she was, not who I wanted her to be,” says Catherine.Credit: Dominic Lorrimer

Catherine: I grew up in housing commission in western Sydney. I loved school but had a difficult home life; Mum and I always butted heads. When I turned 18, I packed my Torana, drove to Wagga, met my partner. A year later, I said, “Let’s move to Melbourne and have a baby.” I went straight from being a child to being a mum. Alli shaped the woman I’ve become. I studied accounting, worked in public health, did an MBA, studied drumming. I remember practising one night in the laundry and this little person came out in her pyjamas and said, “People are trying to sleep!”

She was happy, funny, creative. It was easy until teenage stuff kicked in: drinking, being where she shouldn’t be. I worried about safety and it killed me to watch her waste a good education. I remember sitting against the front door, jamming it so she couldn’t get out. She just went out the back. I realised trying to squish her wasn’t going to work; I didn’t want to butt heads the way I did with my mum. She fell into hospitality, progressed up the ranks. I had to learn to appreciate who she was, not who I wanted her to be. She went to South America, India, Europe, got a job in Canada. I worried that she didn’t have any desire to build anything. I’d tell her, “Always have three weeks’ pay in the bank.” I was terrified she’d never come home.

I moved to Sydney and eventually she did, too. She talked about opening her own bar. I had money, I had time, so I said, “What do you reckon? Can we work together?” She saved through the pandemic and we ended up putting in about $200,000 each: it was important to me that we were financially equal. We painted, cleaned, scraped the floor, sanded.

‘Alli shrugs it off. Her ability to live in the now, to see the potential, is awe-inspiring. She’s still shaping the person I am.’

Catherine Gibson Roy

A lot of her adult years, her developing, she did away. I knew she was a hard worker, but I was impressed. The biggest conflict was The Great Gas Crisis. It was very clear there was no gas in the building, but that fact hadn’t landed with her and she was beside herself when she realised we couldn’t have gas in the kitchen. I lost it. It took me a couple of days to apologise because I was so angry. We were able to talk about why it went wrong. I need to slow down when it comes to financial or building topics. It’s not where she’s comfortable.

Opening and running a bar together has been a trial by fire for me. It’s not my skill set. Alli has literally taught me everything. I worry constantly about the viability of the business; Alli shrugs it off. Her ability to live in the now, to see the potential, is awe-inspiring. She’s still shaping the person I am. I try not to parent in the business relationship, but it’s hard. We’ve had a few dickhead customers. I just want to pick them up by the scruff of the neck and kick them out of my bar; the mama bear comes out!

The bar has been a great opportunity for us to develop a friendship. I confide in her and rely on her now in a way I couldn’t five years ago. Whatever happens, we’ve succeeded. I’ve already won.

“I went straight from being a child to being a mum,” says Catherine of Alli’s arrival. “Alli shaped the woman I’ve become.” Credit: Courtesy of Catherine Gibson Roy

Alli: I had a great upbringing. Two dogs, a cat, a backyard, local school. My mum worked really hard to give me that. She’s always had something on: studying, working full-time, opening a business, learning Spanish, playing drums, becoming a swimming teacher. I’m ­different. I’m a “go with the flow”, social person. I worked in hospitality, got itchy feet and ended up moving overseas. I get an opportunity and I’ll just take it. When Mum makes a decision, it’s well thought out. It blows my mind that she was 20 when she had a kid. When I was 20, I was drinking vodka and Red Bull out of a bucket. Mum worried, tried to make me budget, asked if I had savings. Eventually, I just said yes so she didn’t worry. I was in my mid-20s when she said to me, “Oh, you’re really good at what you do – good with people, able to multitask.” She gained respect for my work ethic.

I don’t know why a 50-year-old woman comes to her daughter and says, “Do you want to open a bar?” but she’s always needed another challenge. The ins and outs, licences, dealing with builders, I wouldn’t have a clue. She has a skill base and understanding I don’t have. I’ve moved into plenty of houses, I’ve never read the lease. She’s like, “You have to read the terms and ­conditions.” Turns out, I read leases now. I trained her in hospitality – how to make ­cocktails, pour a beer. When she learns something, she wants to be the best. Within weeks she was running circles around other staff we’d hired. She’s a very good employee.

‘When we first opened, I said, “I’m not going to call you Mum because it’s not professional; I’ve got to call you Catherine.” I failed miserably. She’s Mum.’

Alli Gibson Roy

Working together [at We Three in Marrickville] definitely rekindled some ­mother-daughter styles of communication: emotional, no barriers. The Great Gas Crisis was almost the end of everything. There’s been a lot of instances where I haven’t quite ­listened. I have a thought and I just state it. That can be frustrating for people who want a plan. I’ve learnt that rather than say, “The door’s ­sticking; let’s fix it,” I should say, “The door’s sticking; here are three options. How do we go about it?” When we first opened, I said, “I’m not going to call you ‘Mum’ because it’s not professional; I’ve got to call you ‘Catherine’.” I failed miserably. She’s Mum.

I didn’t understand her for a long time. I never really got why education was important; why money, budgeting and a safety net were essential. Now I’m in awe of my mum’s capabilities. She’s learnt an entirely new job. She pulls 12-hour days on her feet while also putting her MBA to use behind the scenes. I appreciate the lessons she tried to teach me growing up in a way I never did before. She’s always made me work for what I wanted, but she’s also the most generous person in the world. If I was ever in trouble, I know she’d drop everything for me but, as it turns out, I’ve never been in a position where I’ve needed to rely on her that badly. I think that means she’s succeeded in bringing up somebody who’s independent and capable.

[e-mail]

To read more from Good Weekend magazine, visit our page at The Sydney Morning Herald, The Age and Brisbane Times.