Girls Trip Final Final: How Five Grown Women Planned Four Holidays in Nine Months While Losing S$180 to a Swing They Never Sat On

The Travel Committee: Five Women, Zero Boarding Passes

Shu Ting: A Mood Board in Human Form

Shu Ting is not a planner; she is a hoarder who specialises in other people’s holidays. She has saved enough cafes, villas and tangerine-shaped lattes to fill a small library, and the itinerary she built from all of it is one line long. Her masterpiece, delivered in January and never revised:

Rest is vibes. Nine months of research, a folder heavier than the actual luggage, and the output was four words and a feeling. She guards her screenshots the way a dragon guards gold, never spending any of it, just lying on top of the pile in the dark and hissing at anyone who says the word “book”.

Farah: The Podcast Nobody Subscribed To

Farah does not send messages; she releases episodes. Every decision this group has ever needed has arrived buried inside a six-minute voice note that opens on her cousin’s air fryer and ends with her walking away from her own point like a getaway driver. The trailer for every episode:

Her long story short was three minutes and forty-eight seconds. Her best idea of the year was hidden two minutes and forty seconds into a note about a wedding buffet, and nobody ever found it, because the group plays her at double speed like hostages fast-forwarding through their own ransom video.

Priya: The Woman Who Never Reverts

Priya guards her calendar the way a museum guards a famous painting: it exists, it is precious, and nobody is allowed to touch it. Every date proposed in nine months has been sent away to be checked, and nothing sent away to be checked has ever come back. Her full contribution to the Jeju dates:

Every dead trip died of a different member of her boyfriend’s family: a cousin’s wedding, an aunt’s birthday lunch, a grandmother’s “small gathering” for sixty. Priya is not busy; she has been annexed, like a small kingdom swallowed by a bigger one, and her friends now get her the way divorced dads get weekends: rarely, and only after checking.

Jocelyn: “Madam Treasurer” / The Budget Cop Who Robbed Herself

Jocelyn is the self-appointed Ministry of Finance of a country that has never left its own airport. She splits villas to the cent, compares fares until they expire and pastes contract terms in capital letters, all with the confidence of a woman who has never once been wrong in public. Watch her save the group money:

She found a S$248 fare, told everyone to wait in case it got cheaper, and then personally supervised it climbing to S$342 like a lifeguard taking notes on a drowning. Jocelyn is the only woman in Singapore who has lost money by finding it cheaper.

She is also the one who uploaded this chat, presumably to prove she was the only adult in it. She was not. She was the only adult with a spreadsheet, and the spreadsheet is about to testify against her.

Deanna: Enthusiasm Without a Boarding Pass

Deanna is the most excited person in this chat and the least likely to be standing at the gate. She has answered every proposed date with a squeal and every actual date with a vanishing act, which makes her the cheerleader of a team she has never played for. Her complete travel history for 2026:

What came up was never named, dated or the same size twice: a work thing in March, a family thing in June and, by August, just a thing, at which point the thing had been promoted to a department. She cancelled KL at 9.40pm the night before a trip you could have driven to. Deanna does not fear commitment; she collects it as a hobby and quits it like one.

Saga One: The Capital Letters Clause

In May the group spent three weeks choosing between fourteen villas in Bali, a debate so long it had seasons, a cast change and a mid-season finale where Priya disappeared to a christening. Shu Ting nominated eleven, Jocelyn vetoed nine on price, Farah explained the other two in voice notes nobody finished, and Deanna voted yes to all fourteen, which in any real parliament gets you removed by security.

On 6 May, Jocelyn collected S$36 a head for villa nine, the one with the swing, and pasted the terms in capitals so that nobody could ever say they had not been warned. Here is the group being warned:

Four women confirmed they had read the terms, and not one had, including, it turned out, the woman who pasted them. By the time anyone agreed a date, villa nine was gone and S$180 belonged to a man in Ubud who had been extremely clear. Jocelyn’s reply was “it’s okay it’s only S$36 each”, which is the sound of a budget cop writing herself a ticket and then eating it.

Saga Two: The Only Trip That Happened

Jeju died of Priya’s boyfriend’s cousin. Taipei died of Jocelyn’s fare monitoring. KL, a destination so close you could reach it on a coach with a toilet, died at 9.40pm the night before when Deanna’s thing came up, and Bali died of the swing. Four trips, four corpses, and a chat called “Final Final” that had never once been final.

Then, on Sunday 13 September, with no screenshot, no deposit and no spreadsheet, it happened by accident:

Everyone came. Priya came without checking, Deanna came without a thing, and Farah said everything she wanted to say out loud, in person, in under a minute, which nobody knew she could do. They sat there for three hours, and the only travel this group achieved in 2026 was a ten-minute walk to a cafe they had all been to before, which is the most damning review a planning committee has ever received.

The Dishonours

The Museum Curator Award goes to Shu Ting. A world-class collection of places she will never go.

The Longest Short Story Prize goes to Farah. Long story short: three minutes and forty-eight seconds.

The Annexed Territory Award goes to Priya. Now officially a province of her boyfriend’s family.

The Self-Inflicted Fine goes to Jocelyn. Wrote the clause, pasted the clause, lost to the clause.

The Something Came Up Medal goes to Deanna. Something always does, and it is never a plane.

The Longest Layover in History goes to the whole group. Nine months in Singapore, with a swing in Bali to show for it.

The Verdict

You guys did not plan a holiday; you built a shrine to one and prayed at it every night. Four destinations, one dead deposit and a plate of kaya toast are the entire output of nine months of five women’s combined effort. The only member of this group who has ever made it to Bali is your money.