World Book Day is one of those events many adults blissfully ignore until they have children. Then it arrives, loud and glittered, dividing parents into camps. The heroic planners. The last-minute glue-stick brigade. And the quietly panicked majority hovering in Hobbycraft wondering how cardboard became a lifestyle.

At its best, it is a brilliant initiative. Books matter. Stories matter. Giving children a reason to dress as their favourite characters can spark conversations that last far longer than a costume. At its worst, however, it risks becoming a competitive pageant where imagination is measured in Amazon receipts.

This annual panic over felt and cardboard is, at its heart, a struggle with editing. The same tension exists in cake design.

Whether Alice, Paddington or Peter Rabbit, the temptation is always to include everything. Every prop. Every character. Every reference. But the most successful designs, much like the best costumes, rely on suggestion rather than saturation. That philosophy underpins many of our bespoke cake commissions, where the brief begins with a story and ends with something recognisable yet refined.

Take, for instance, our interpretation of Alice in Wonderland. Between the original novel and its many screen interpretations, the visual references are endless. It would be easy to crowd the design with clocks, cards, cats and crockery. Instead, we chose a handful of elements that instantly anchor the theme: the blue and white palette of Alice’s dress, a chocolate teapot nodding to the Mad Hatter, and the unmistakable playing cards of the Queen of Hearts. The result feels playful rather than overworked, as though it has stepped neatly out of the story rather than been dragged from it.

The same applies to the heavyweights of the nursery shelf. Paddington needs little more than his blue coat and suitcase to be entirely himself. Peter Rabbit remains recognisable with just his little blue jacket and an air of mischief. When the essentials are right, the rest becomes noise.

World Book Day outfits work in much the same way. A well-chosen coat, a carefully selected prop, and suddenly the character comes to life. No need for theatrical excess. The imagination does the heavy lifting.

Of course, book themes are not the preserve of primary school playgrounds. Literary references carry beautifully into adult celebrations too. A 1920s Gatsby gathering might call for towering Croquembouche, caramel spun like theatre lights above champagne coupes. A Bridgerton-inspired soirée pairs empire lines with intricate piping and a Regency-style cake that whispers rather than shouts.

The point is not costume. It is connection. Stories shape how we see the world, and when translated thoughtfully into cake, they create a centrepiece that sparks conversation across generations. Grandparents recognise the classics. Children see their current favourites. Everyone meets somewhere in the middle.

World Book Day may sometimes tip into glitter-fuelled competition. But stories endure because they leave room for imagination. The cakes inspired by them should do the same.