I am a firm believer that branding yourself is one of the most challenging things you can do as a designer—it is inevitable, but it is also tangible and within reach.
I recently graduated from the University of Waterloo and am incredibly grateful for what the last four years have brought me. I had the opportunity to study design, work harder than ever, play harder than ever, and build some of my most meaningful relationships. I have so much love for what my undergraduate experience has offered me—moving on from what once was has felt far from easy.
I began 2024 expecting to complete my next portfolio website within the first few weeks of the year. Over the last few years, I became accustomed to framing myself as a student, with a preconceived threshold of what I could achieve early in my career. Now that I am no longer a student, this threshold feels significantly higher than it was before.
In retrospect, I hadn't given myself time to reflect on where and how change was facilitated. Colleges and universities, much like the University of Waterloo, can become a constant yet rewarding grind between work and school—there isn't always much time to take a moment and view your practice for what it is and how it sets you apart. This can be true at any point in one's schooling and, in a fast-paced world, can certainly apply to individuals who might have fewer opportunities to explore design in practice.
On a more personal note, adapting to your final semester of university can be incredibly daunting. One of the most challenging feelings I had to navigate was hearing others' perceptions of what a new graduate should be doing and how they should handle transitions at this time in their lives. However, there is no single way to approach change—just as there is no single way to explore how to position yourself.
If you are feeling inadequate about your work or achievements, chances are you need to reflect on where you are and how you've been able to make something uniquely your own. In design, this can be through things that may seem small but are incredibly important—how you evaluate context, articulate your decisions, and let your perception of the world around you inform your work. In design, your ceiling is certainly not limited to the type of work you are most familiar with.
Over the last two years, I fell into a fashion rabbit hole—which came with some integral awkward phases. As I became more familiar with the clothes I felt most comfortable wearing and the decisions that informed my purchases, I realized there was a lot of overlap between how I navigate fashion and how I approach my practices in design.
As it turns out, many of these practices are heavily informed by how I percieve different aspects of the world around me. I value intent, minimalism, fine details, and coexistence, among other things. These values inform my design ethos on a broader scale, beyond the constraints of a singular label.
When you are most in touch with what defines you and the humility that comes with it, I believe you are enabled to achieve your best work.
This take on my portfolio marks a pivotal point in my life because, in the last three weeks of working on it, I've likely been to the library more than I have in my entire life (this means a lot in its own weird way). This take on my portfolio is also only one of many, and I'll likely continue to workshop it day by day. Above all else, it is an ode to what was, what is, and what can be.
I remain a firm believer that branding yourself is one of the most challenging things you can do as a designer—it is inevitable, but it is also more than okay to take a step back.
