Designer Things

There’s this weird feeling you get walking through an empty airport terminal at 3 AM. I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to understand

I used to think design variety was about throwing every possible element at a wall and seeing what stuck. Turns out, the whole thing is way more nuanced

I used to think good design was about making things beautiful, until I spent an afternoon with a 1960s Braun calculator that felt more honest than my entire smartphone.

I used to think design was just about making things look pretty. Then I spent three months watching a team of interaction designers rebuild a healthcare

I used to think brand consistency was just about slapping the same logo everywhere until people remembered it. Turns out, the human brain processes visual

I used to think zines were just punk kids stapling photocopied rants together in basements. Turns out, the scruffy aesthetic that defined underground publishing

I used to think cult films just happened—like lightning strikes or viral memes, unpredictable and mysterious. But here’s the thing: the visual strategy

I used to think museum displays were just about putting old stuff behind glass and calling it a day. Turns out, the whole enterprise is way more complicated—and

I used to think luxury watches were just about telling time in the most expensive way possible. Turns out, the visual language these brands deploy—from

Color photography didn’t just arrive—it crashed into the art world like someone flipping on fluorescent lights in a candlelit room.