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Lookin’ back

Pete Michels

Every piece of work has a story behind it. Not just what was made, but how and why it came to be. So we asked our Creative Director, Pete Michels, to share a different kind of perspective—one that steps back from the finished work and into the thinking behind it, offering an insightful glimpse behind the curtain of creativity.


Recently we tried something a little different.

Nothing revolutionary—pretty simple actually. But after going through it, I don’t think we can live without it.

Creative work has a beautifully strange rhythm. You spend an inconsistent amount of time thinking about something. Exploring it. Questioning it. Pushing it forward. Questioning it again.

Then eventually you commit.

And eventually you let it go.

One day it’s ‘finished’. The files are sent. The project moves on. And the work begins to take on a life of its own.

(They grow up so fast.)

And like most things we release into the world, we rarely sit down with it again.

Most designers don’t get the chance to stop and talk about the work once it’s done. Of course there are conversations during the process. Rationales. Check-ins. Presentations.

But that’s still the process.

What’s often missing is the story after the work has been set free.

Hard Truth

And like most things we release into the world, we rarely sit down with it again.

The hesitations.
The instincts.
The micro-decisions that quietly changed everything.

So, we asked the designers to bring the work back.

Client work. Personal work. The things they’re proud of. Sometimes the things they’re still figuring out.

And then we sit down and talk. Just three of us.

The lookbook sessions

Over the past few weeks each designer has been sitting down with Andy, our therapeutically calm Art Director, and myself (nothing therapeutic about me) to share what we’ve been calling a ‘personal lookbook’.

It’s not a presentation.

It’s not a critique session.

When it works well, it’s closer to a one-sided conversation.

This is their time to talk about the work. We mostly listen. Occasionally scribble something down. Andy radiates a calming presence.

Creative wellness at its finest.

Designers bring together projects and personal work they’re proud of, and sometimes work they’re still processing.

And they talk.

Creativity

Because creativity, whether we admit it or not, is something we all take a little personally.

The thinking behind it.
The decisions that shaped it.
The instincts that pushed it one direction instead of another.

They’re using a muscle that, for many designers, doesn’t get exercised often enough.

The muscle of explaining how their creative mind actually works.

These sessions are intentionally small. Just three people in the room.

That intimacy matters.

Sometimes the conversations get unexpectedly personal.

Because creativity, whether we admit it or not, is something we all take a little personally.

There is a story in everything

Finished design can feel inevitable.

Once something exists in the world, it looks like it was always meant to be that way.

But anyone who has made something knows the truth is usually much messier.

There are moments of uncertainty.

Ideas that almost worked.

Decisions made on instinct, skill, taste and confidence.

Details that need unpacking. Debate. Occasionally, a high-five.

The lookbook sessions open the doors on all of this.

And what emerges isn’t just a collection of projects.

It’s something much more interesting.

A map of how a creative brain works.

Confidence is different from arrogance

Something interesting happens when designers talk about their work like this.

They start by sharing what they’re proud of. The projects that meant something to them. The ideas that pushed a little further. The details that quietly hold everything together.

And often it’s not the projects you’d expect.

But as the conversation unfolds, something shifts.

Not toward critique. Toward understanding.

Why this idea felt right.
Why that decision mattered.
Why certain instincts led the work in a particular direction.

What emerges isn’t a defence of the work.

It’s clarity.

Because real creative confidence doesn’t come from believing you’re always right.

It comes from understanding why you made the decisions you did, and being able to stand behind them.

Wow, didn’t see that coming

Confidence

Because real creative confidence doesn’t come from believing you’re always right.

Here’s the part we didn’t fully anticipate.

Andy and I learn just as much in these sessions as the designers do.

Sometimes we discover strengths we hadn’t fully seen yet.

An interest we haven’t tapped into.

An instinct that deserves more room.

A perspective we should be leaning into far more often.

You start to realise that reviewing the work isn’t really the point.

Understanding the person behind the work is.

These conversations help us see not just what someone has made, but the kind of designer they’re becoming.

Design, after all, is a profession built on judgement.

And judgement only develops through experience, reflection and conversation.

The quiet value of taking a beat

(take a few of them, actually)

In an industry that moves quickly, taking time to step back and talk about the work can feel almost radical.

There’s always another brief.
Another deadline.
Another project waiting to begin.

But pausing to reflect, even briefly, reminds us that creative growth doesn’t just happen through making more work.

Sometimes it happens through understanding the work we’ve already made.

Because the fastest way to grow as a designer is to understand how you already think.

And occasionally, through laughing at the decisions we thought were brilliant at the time.

Great studios talk about the work.

Great designers talk about why the work exists at all.

The lookbook sessions are quiet conversations.

No presentations.
No audience.
No performance.

Just designers reflecting on the work that matters to them, and the thinking behind it.

And in those conversations, something important becomes visible.

Not just what someone has made.

But the designer they’re becoming.

And, hopefully, the studio we’re becoming together.