We didn't build FromUs to be an environmental project. But it's hard to think about gifts in 2026 and not think about what happens to them.

The numbers behind the cuteness

The global toy industry is worth about $110 billion a year. Roughly 90% of toys produced contain plastic. The average child's plastic footprint from toys alone is around 18 kg per year, heavier than the child themselves until about age four.

Most of these toys are not recycled, and most of them won't be played with for more than a season. That isn't a moral judgment about parents, it's just the truth of how children grow. A teether is genuinely useful for three months. The plastic it's made of will exist for five hundred years.

Where the gifts come from

When we started telling people Nora was on the way, the response was almost overwhelming in its kindness. Three knitted blankets. Two musical mobiles. Six different kinds of soft toy. Everyone was delighted to show up. We were too.

But by the third pram-shaped box, Kia and I started counting. The gifts coming in were going to total over €1,000 of stuff she would outgrow within two seasons. Most of it would never make it to a second child. It would go to a charity shop, a landfill, a "I'll deal with this later" pile in the basement.

The intent was love. The output was a small mountain of polyester.

"Showing up" got tangled with "buying things"

Here's our central problem. People want to show up for a new little human. There are very few culturally-acceptable ways to do that. "Bring a wrapped present" is the default, so people bring a wrapped present. The result isn't anyone's fault. It's just what happens when the only option for celebration is consumption.

FromUs is our attempt to add a different option. Instead of a teether, you can write a sentence. Instead of a sixth musical mobile, you can chip in to the future. The kid still gets the love. The planet doesn't get another shipment of injection-moulded plastic.

This isn't about banning toys. Babies should have toys. Some of them should even be silly. It's about giving the people around a new family another way to show up, one that doesn't require the planet to absorb the cost.

Long after the page opens

One of the quiet things we love about messages-and-investments-as-gifts is that they outlast the moment. A note written in 2026 can be read in 2044. An ETF share bought in 2026 might pay for college in 2044. Neither one ends up in a landfill.

We aren't trying to make people feel guilty for buying their nephew a stuffed elephant. We're trying to make sure they don't have to.