There are plenty of organizations with mission statements, membership applications, committees, and strategic plans. The We Do Not Effin’ Care club (WDNEC) has none of those. Instead, it has a cardboard sign, a donation bucket, a handful of friends, and a simple invitation: Show up. Have a drink. Throw a few dollars into the bucket if you can. Laugh a lot. Support a local restaurant. Help a local charity.
That’s it. No dues. No meetings. No expectations. Just people coming together once a month to prove that sometimes the simplest ideas become the most meaningful. Ironically, for a group whose name boldly proclaims they “do not effin’ care,” they truly do care more than just about anybody.
Like so many great stories, this one began over happy hour. Founders Debi West, Stefanie Burns, and Janet Adams were at Cool Cats Lounge following the passing of West’s mother. The evening was filled with the kind of conversation that only happens among close friends – equal parts grief, laughter, and brutal honesty.
They talked about getting older. About menopause. About brain fog. About the strange freedom that comes with reaching a season of life where other people’s opinions simply don’t matter as much anymore.
Around the same time, comedian Melani Sanders’ wildly popular We Do Not Care videos had exploded across social media, giving voice to women embracing aging with humor instead of apology. The conversation naturally turned toward that idea.
Founders Janet Adams. Debi West, and Stefanie Burns.
“We were talking about aging gracefully,” West said. “It’s hard to age … your mental fog, all those things. We wanted to support other women and uplift other women through the aging process.”
Someone joked that maybe they should start their own club. Then came the line that changed everything. “What if it’s We Do Not Effin’ Care … until we do?” West asked.
Everyone around the table immediately knew they had something. It was not because of the name, but because of the heart behind it.
Friendship Without the Pressure
The philosophy scribbled together that evening remains the foundation of the club today: “We embrace the beauty of aging, the joy of friendship, and the art of simply not effin’ caring about life’s nonsense. Our mission is to laugh loudly, love kindly, give generously and sip responsibly – or not – while supporting the local spots we adore.”
Then comes perhaps the most famous line of all: “Showers and bras optional.”
It’s funny. It’s ridiculous. It’s also surprisingly freeing. The message isn’t really about showers or bras. It’s about permission. Permission to stop pretending everything is perfect. Permission to laugh at yourself. Permission to show up exactly as you are.
“Nobody gives a (‘hoot’) what you look like,” West said with a laugh. “We’re more about your actions.”
That spirit has become contagious.
“Our buddy Wyatt Hall was hanging out with us, too,” Burns said. “And as we were talking, he sat there and designed our logo, so this club is definitely all inclusive – all genders, all races, all sizes, all ages.”
One of the funniest parts of the club is that people are constantly asking how to join. West’s answer never changes: “Just show up.”
There are no membership cards, no annual dues, no board meetings, no fundraising committees, and no complicated nonprofit paperwork. In fact, the founders intentionally avoided becoming a formal nonprofit. Instead, every participating restaurant chooses its favorite local charity. Guests simply drop whatever they’d like into a bucket. Five dollars. Ten dollars. Twenty dollars. Whatever feels right. Then the restaurant writes the check directly to the charity, often matching or adding to the donation themselves.
“It’s literally that simple,” Adams said.
Sometimes simple is exactly what people have been looking for.
A $600 check for the Deep Well Project is written after a Happy Hour gathering at Cool Cats Lounge.
A Happy Hour With a Purpose
The first event was held January 31 at Cool Cats Lounge. Ironically, a snowstorm blanketed the Lowcountry that day. No one expected much of a turnout.
“What if nobody comes?” someone asked.
The answer?
“We don’t effin’ care.”
“What if we only raise five dollars?”
“We don’t effin’ care.”
Because five dollars was still five dollars more than a local charity had before.
Despite the weather, people came. Money filled the bucket. Cool Cats owner Michael Takacs matched the donations, bringing the total to $600 for the Deep Well Project. The next day, the founders delivered the check. The timing couldn’t have been better.
“They told us people couldn’t pay their electric bills because the utility costs were so high,” West recalled. “I thought, ‘There’s something to this.’”
There certainly was.
At Big Bamboo
The next morning, someone from Big Bamboo called.
“We want February.”
Then Tio’s wanted March. Agave claimed April. Mellow Mushroom asked for May. Brother Shuckers wanted June. Tin & Tallow, Pool Bar Jim’s, Sandbar, Captain Woody’s. Before long, local restaurants weren’t waiting to be asked. They were asking to host.
Each venue added its own personality. Some created signature cocktails. Some extended happy hour pricing. Some raffled prizes. Many invited representatives from the featured charity to share their mission, allowing guests to connect with the organizations behind the donations.
The momentum kept building – Meals on Wheels, Neighborhood Outreach Connection, Bluffton Self Help Food Pantry, Pockets Full of Sunshine, Hilton Head Humane Association, Programs for Exceptional People (PEP), St. Francis Catholic School – as nonprofits were suggested by the host location.
Burns and West celebrate a $20 bill going into the passed around bucket.
More Than Money
The dollars are impressive. More than $4,000 was raised during the first six gatherings, not including food donations collected for local pantries. But, ask the founders what excites them most, and the answer isn’t the money. It’s the people. Women introducing themselves to strangers. Neighbors becoming friends. Restaurant owners rallying behind local charities. Musicians encouraging guests to give. Community members discovering organizations they never knew existed. The gatherings have become less about writing checks and more about building connections.
“We’re not the ‘mean girls’ club,” Burns said. “We’re all about lifting each other up.”
That might be the club’s greatest accomplishment. In a world where social media often encourages comparison, criticism, and division, WDNEC has become a place where nobody has to impress anyone. You simply come as you are.
SAVE THE DATES!
September 24 – Pool Bar Jim’s
North Forest Beach
5-7 p.m.
Beneficiary: Hilton Head Humane Association
October 30 – Sandbar
Coligny Plaza
5-7 p.m.
St. Francis Catholic School
November 12 – Captain Woody’s
Executive Park Road
5-7 p.m.
Spirit of Sebastian
December 17 – Cool Cats Lounge
Village Exchange
4-6 p.m.
Deep Well Project
The club’s irreverent name gets people’s attention. Its generosity keeps them coming back. Yes, they joke about menopause. They laugh about brain fog. They proudly declare showers and bras optional. They’ll happily admit they don’t have everything figured out.
The Club met at Mellow Mushroom in May.
But beneath the humor is something refreshingly genuine: a belief that supporting local businesses matters. That small charities deserve to be seen. That friendship shouldn’t require perfection. That laughter really is good medicine. And that giving back doesn’t have to be complicated.
“We’re just great friends who had a fun idea about paying it forward in a very simple, easy concept,” Adams said.
Simple. That’s exactly what makes it work. Because sometimes changing a community doesn’t begin with a strategic plan or a million-dollar campaign. Sometimes it begins around a table in a neighborhood dive bar. With friends, a cardboard sign, a bucket, a lot of laughter. And a group of people insisting they don’t effin’ care … until they absolutely do.