Today I decided to film myself drawing.

I set everything up with the best of intentions: my phone attached to the overhead phone holder, my iPad Pro ready and centered below it. The whole little situation.

And then suddenly it felt like there were… a hundred and fifty people watching me. Which is ridiculous, because of course there weren’t. It was literally just my phone sitting there on its little overhead holder.

And yet somehow it felt like an audience had appeared, which included (but wasn’t limited to) all of the online people who would be watching this eventually. People I knew and those I didn’t.

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Still, I kept going. I told myself I was going to break through it. So, I kept drawing. In fact, I finished the entire illustration and… it was cute. Perfectly fine. Nothing technically wrong with it.

But it didn’t really click with me.

You know when something just feels slightly off? Not bad exactly… just not right either.

And after sitting with that feeling for a bit, I realized why. Or at least I think I did. Last time I filmed myself drawing one of the Starry Eye pieces from the new collection I’m working on. And today, for some reason, I told myself I had to do something different. “You can’t draw the same thing again, Sara… that will be boring,” are the exact words that I heard playing in the loudspeaker of my mind.

But listening to that was definitely a mistake.

Because if you’re an artist (or honestly, if you’re anyone doing something creative) you kind of have to follow whatever you feel like making in that exact moment that you are actually making it. So, if you want to draw the same thing again, then you should probably draw the same thing again. I mean Picasso did it all the time (how many disjointed faces did he draw, seriously? And I mean, we all love them and think he’s a genius, right? But I digress…)

The moment you start arguing with your instinct, something shifts. Or maybe something breaks is the better word. The energy disappears.

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Anyway, I finished the drawing. I filmed the whole thing. I even edited the video, turning about an hour of footage into a quick one-minute montage.

Then I watched it.

And I watched it again.

And then… I watched it again.

Which is usually the moment when you either think, “yes, this works” or “Oh nope, really truly nope…”

And unfortunately… it was the latter for me this time.

What’s funny is that I had already planned the narrative around the reel. I was going to post it with a voiceover talking about how sometimes you have to share things that make you uncomfortable. How it doesn’t matter if something isn’t perfect… you just post it anyway and move on to the next!

But actually… I don’t think that’s always true. Sometimes, if something feels off, that feeling seeps into everything around it and can even zap the creativity right out of you.

I was literally getting an upset stomach thinking about posting that illustration (which is usually a pretty good sign that you really don’t like something). Your body knows before your brain does.

So, yes… I spent an hour drawing it and another hour editing the video and I wasn’t going to use it.

But it doesn’t matter. Sometimes you just cut your losses, learn something from the process and move on.

For me the lesson was pretty simple: when I feel a very clear pull to draw something specific, I need to trust that a thousand percent.

I can’t listen to the “logical voice” (aka the one telling me what the algorithm might like) that says you need variety, or that you shouldn’t repeat yourself, or that you should show something new every time.

Creativity doesn’t really work like that.

Share Whatever by Sara Bianca Bentley

Fast forward through the day, I took a walk, had a delicious burger for lunch and later in the afternoon I drew something else. No filming this time. I just sat down, grabbed my iPad and drew. And the new illustration transferred from my thoughts to the screen completely spontaneously. And I really love the result!

That’s the way it’s supposed to feel ;)

To be honest, I’m not upset about the earlier drawing at all. And I’m sure that I’ll get more comfortable with filming myself while I draw the more I do it (practice makes perfect and all that).

But the real takeaway from today is just this: It’s okay to follow your gut feeling. Because that instinct that tells us when something feels right or doesn’t is almost never wrong.

So, although I definitely won’t be posting that illustration and its accompanying reel today (or any day in the future) I’ll keep it in my drafts. A little reminder to go with my feeling next time :)

xoxo, Sara

p.s. the cover of this piece is the illustration that i drew in the afternoon which i love enough to post ;) And, yes… it’s part of my Starry Eye collection… a little reminder that our inspiration wants, what our inspiration wants, when it wants it ✨

p.p.s. I know I’m not the only creative alone in this! When has something similar happened to you?

Some things are just so inspiring. And that’s because the obsession and care that fueled their design and creation is brightly evident in the object itself.

Touching just the tip of the proverbial iceberg, the following are a few (very few) design items that inspire me this month in my own creative journey, simply because they exist.

From jeans and mugs to fine jewelry and (even) a Porsche, and so much in between, let me tell you why…

I love the bold minimalism of Suzanne Belperon jewelry and especially her Virgin Gold Collection.

At a glance, striking ancient influences are more than apparent, and yet each piece is absolutely modern too (and has influenced countless designers since).

I guess that’s the definition of timeless… but of course, one can’t go wrong with 22kt yellow gold.

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I imagine wearing this ring on an unpolished (but manicured) hand (so chic) with a simple white (or black) t-shirt, jeans (of course), and either white Adidas Stan Smiths or black Converse All Stars. It’s giving not trying too hard, and yet making a huge statement.

Don’t ask me about a car’s mileage, or top speed, or transmissions. I have no idea about any of that.

But do ask me about its design and curves and colors. I can talk all day.

Such is the case of this vintage Porsche 911.

Its smooth curves and lines have rightly earned it a parking spot in the world of design. This is a car that other cars dream of being when they grow up (and drivers the world over dream of driving).

It lives within a recurring daydream of mine, where I’m driving top down (yes, the silver Porsche in my daydream is a convertible) along the oceanside highway leading down Big Sur, radio playing anything from Fleetwood Mac and the overwhelming scent of eucalyptus and laurel flowers wafting through the air.

The Jonathan Anderson x Wedgwood collection thrills me.

I mean, have you seen the video? If not, watch it; you’ll 100% be inspired by all of the beautiful artisanship going on and the story behind the design, shared by Jonathan himself.

In general, I’m a huge fan of his (Loewe and now Christian Dior? I mean, come on!). The way he has woven his personal love of an ancient artifact into his design storyline (again, since this thread is also apparent in the gorgeous candles that he did for Loewe) feels so effortless and honest.

To me, that is what iconic pieces are made of.

International Klein Blue has a way of elevating everything it touches, from walls to brands to everything in between.

There’s something about the tone that hits all the right notes.

It’s famously inspired by that special ultramarine of the sky (this is not a horizon color, you have to crane you neck all the way up to see it on a cloudless day) which its namesake creator, Yves Klein, became obsessed with replicating through painstaking combinations of pigment and resins. Finally, he succeeded in creating this velvety, light absorbing shade.

I, personally, would not be opposed to a canvas of that pigment hanging on my wall.

When I was growing up, my parents had a round Noguchi suspension lamp hanging in their bedroom… until my brother and I kicked a multicolored plastic ball into it and ripped it from the ceiling (yeah…).

Nevertheless, that lamp (or rather, “light sculpture”) remains in my mind as the perfect light fixture… and this floor version doesn’t fall far behind. It’s a 100% design object that doesn’t scream “design” and yet can’t be anything else. Those in the know, know.

And yes, there are countless knockoffs that cost a lot less, but there’s something to say about the original and its ability to capture the true essence of its creator.

So, am I obsessed? Yes, I am.

Starting this monthly obsessed list, I would be extremely remiss if I didn’t include one of my favorite design items: denim. From classic Levis to the Jesse Kamm Cali Wides, in stonewashed, sandblasted, indigo, black, gray, white… the wash list goes on.

There’s a pair (or two or ten) for everyone, making it quite possibly the most democratic design item in the world.

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There is a reason that so many people are obsessed with it. Because this is definitely not an obsession that I own the rights; rather it’s one I share with an ever-expanding group of people worldwide, who, through life’s ups and downs and twists and turns, know that they can always reach for a pair of denim to help them feel put together and like… themselves.

(p.s. I write this as I wear a pair of reissued gray 501 90s which, I’ve gotta say, are making me a little bit nostalgic, in the best way.)

The Alex Mill Weekday tote (in garment washed canvas) is an item that I discovered via social media and I’m so obsessed!

It’s such a utilitarian design that still looks chic and the colors are right up my alley (kind of muted and worn-in, really easy to wear day in and day out).

I’m not sure if I’ll get mine with the hand-painted initials (although the fonts they use are cute and blocky and I LOVE that thee’re hand-painted) but I love that the option is there. And I really appreciate how lightweight canvas is compared to leather (especially a tote of this size). My shoulder is really enjoying this direction I’m going in too!

I first discovered Jamie Haller through two of my favorite creators, Gabriella Gofis and Megan Alida Strachan (go check them out for amazing high/low outfits and just general lifestyle inspiration) (plus, Megan runs Dorsey which I’m sure you have all heard of).

What can I say about these loafers and this label? I was smitten at first glance.

They’re handmade in Italy from the softest, butteriest leather, designed and created in Los Angeles by a woman who genuinely loves what she does.

This is one of those instances where the care and attention of a designer is more than apparent in the product itself. These are pieces that are here to stay.

This is a shameless plug of my own art.

I’m currently in the process of redoing my website and although it’s still a major work in progress… I’m here for it!

Looking at everything I’ve created so far (and planning everything I want to create) is such an inspiring zone to be in.

I can’t stress strongly enough that if you are creative in any way, shape, or form, you need to keep creating whatever it is that God placed in your heart to create. You have to tell your stories, draw your drawings and bake your cakes… or whatever medium it is that you love. This is mine :)

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Thanks for reading!

xoxo,

Sara

p.s. how do you guys like the voice note at the start of this article? I was inspired by and i think i might make it a regular feature :)

When I was studying fashion design at FIT, I clearly remember my fashion illustration professor, Steven Stipelman, saying: “Whenever you draw a line, make sure it looks purposeful.”

I’ve replayed that piece of advice in my mind too many times to count, because it goes beyond the elegant realm of fashion illustration and can actually be applied to anything you do… with a small tweak: Whenever you do anything, make sure that it is purposeful.

So, create with purpose.

Live with purpose.

Make sure that everything, big or small, is accomplished with purpose.

Thinking about it now, purpose is what takes an art piece, a retail item or any other form of human creation from something that follows the general rules of its creation and transforms it into something great, something iconic even. Something that aesthetically (and not only) impacts generations of people just by how it looks.

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Writing that paragraph, instantly brought a few things to mind; creations that are so iconic, they’ve transcended the time and space in which they were made and have gone on to inspire countless others.

Case in point, Elsa Peretti originally designed her Bone Cuff for Tiffany & Co. in 1970 and, if you love jewelry, then you definitely know what I’m talking about. Peretti didn’t just create another cuff bracelet that wraps around the wrist. She used the actual wrist bone as the basis of the entire design, creating a fluid interpretation in precious metal that feels just as relevant today as it did when it was first forged.

I don’t know about you, but that special shade of ultramarine blue patented by Yves Klein in 1960 always stops me in my tracks. Klein was famously obsessed with the blue of the sky and wanted to capture its energy. After many trials and errors, he finally arrived at a precise mix of synthetic resin and pigment that produced the velvety result he was looking for. He called it International Klein Blue. The shade is very unique and it hits a special sensory note, making everything it touches, from artwork to branding, look so intentional.

Taking a kitchen appliance and making it chic, the Juicy Salif Citrus-Squeezer designed by Philippe Stark for Alessi in 1990, is part sculpture part practical object… and definitely an upgrade from anything conventionally used to extract juice from a lemon (or orange, your call). Truth be told, it’s one of my favorite design items because the intention behind its creation is so obvious and almost delightfully presumptuous.

The Up 50 chair, designed by Gaetano Pesce in 1969 is somewhat cartoonish, undeniably statement-making and most certainly purposefully designed. Pesche was famously quoted to have said that it represents “the image of a prisoner,” referencing they way women have historically fallen victim to male bias. Voluminous and bold, it’s guaranteed to be the focal point of any space it inhabits… and an assured conversation piece.

And finally, returning to the idea of purposeful lines (and curves and swooshes) the Guggenheim Bilbao, designed by Frank Ghery in 1977, can definitely be described as an exercise in something that was designed purposefully. Somewhere between weightlessly hovering and heavily anchored to the ground, this building feels both fluid and controlled. Every curve is deliberate and the result is unmistakably, supremely iconic.

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It’s funny how moments that might seem fleeting at the time of their inception turn into momentous sparks that, years later, are recalled with fondness and importance.

I didn’t realize it then but while Professor Stipelman was illustrating how to draw the soft arc of chiffon as it billows from the figure, his words would resurface years later and become the inspiration for this piece that you just read.

And it was written with that purpose ;)

xoxo,

Sara

Share Whatever by Sara Bianca Bentley

Also…

I wrote an open letter to myself and every other creative out there (that means you!) encouraging ourselves to get out of our own way and allowing our creativity free reign.

And if you want to read more, I questioned that age-old adage that “quitting is for losers…” Personally, i think quite the opposite! How about you? Read this and let me know your thoughts :)

Thanks so much for being here!

The other day I stumbled upon a reel with a snippet from ’s recent interview on the podcast . The on-screen caption that made me click was: Why Millionaires Believe that Quitting is for Winners.

In the interview, Steven (a very successful entrepreneur himself) shared that he and many of the highly successful people that he has interviewed are “remarkably good at quitting.” They know when something just isn’t the right path for them, even when other people think they are crazy for stopping or choosing another way.

That really clicked for me.

I have always been irritated by the old narrative that “quitting is for losers” or that quitting something means that you can’t do the hard work, or that you “don’t have what it takes.”

Nevertheless, I actually love quitting! It’s the most freeing feeling in the world to stop something that you feel in your soul isn’t right for you.

Quitting a job you hate? Stopping a project that makes you feel uneasy (or just bored)? Taking a step back from a business deal that you discovered mid-way through isn’t aligned with your values?

Honestly, after you quit / stop / take that step back, you’ll not only feel a giant weight lift off your shoulders and like you’ve grown 3 inches in stature, but you’ll feel a creative rush that will completely justify your actions.

Every. Single. Time.

I’ve never understood people who stay in jobs they hate for 5, 10, 20 or even 30 years. You’ll never get those years and that wasted creativity back.

Recently, I asked someone who has been at a job she really doesn’t like for the past 20+ years, why she didn’t find another job years ago, her reply was “I am not a quitter.” That made me feel so sad. Here was a woman with so many abilities who chose to not tap into them because she was afraid that she was going to be labelled a “quitter.”

I say quit.

Quit that job that makes you feel like never getting out of bed in the morning. Stop that project that, sure you’ve put a lot of work into, but it just doesn’t flow from you anymore. And back out of something if you feel a sense of dread when you think about it.

It’s ok.

Because who is really judging? And maybe the people who are aren’t people whose opinions should matter to you.

It’s so much better to pause, stop and rewind whatever doesn’t feel aligned, than to spend even more time and creative energy on something that at the end of the day (or the decade) makes you think, “so what?”

xoxo,

Sara

I don’t like new year’s resolutions, and this isn’t one.

Nevertheless, I have decided to get out of my own way.

If you are a creative like me then you probably deep down know exactly what I’m talking about.

I mean the walls and rules and regulations I put up around me as far as how I allow myself to express my creativity.

The shoulds, the musts and the cants.

Let’s take Social Media.

I should post every single day. I must never post anything that is “off brand.” And I can’t ever change my mind.

Omigosh. Who am I kidding?

It’s no wonder that I sustain such a posting schedule and mentality for a grand total of 4 weeks (6 weeks, if I stretch it and force myself) before it piddles out and I get that insistent “itch” to reinvent myself online.

Apparently focusing on one thing is not sustainable for me.

I don’t know why. Sometimes, I really wish that were me. Sometimes, I really wish I was the type of person who has the tenacity and, dare I say, tunnel vision that can sustain keeping to one specific topic forever and ever, amen.

But that is NOT me.

Believe me, I have tried.

I have tried being just an artist / illustrator (this one is probably the closest to my default setting seeing as I have been drawing since I was 2 years old). I have tried being just a yoga practitioner and almost teacher (that IG page did really well too). I have tried being just a café analyst (no, this is not a real title but that sure was a great excuse to go around to all the fun cafes around town and call it “work”). I have tried being just a bunch of other things too, but they all piddled out.

If I were to analyze it (i.e. the purpose of this letter) I think my problem, as it were, is that I am too creative.

Can that be possible?

Can the need to create be so strong that the act of creativity is the end goal and not the means to an end? Are there just too many aspects of me that are asking to be expressed that they all need a seat at the table?

I think that’s the blessing and the curse. Although creativity isn’t a curse, you know what I mean.

Creativity often comes at the expense of peace of mind and the power it wields is so strong that it overrides other things like perseverance and patience.

But at the same time, being in the moment of creation (whether that is drawing something or creating a new brand identity) can come with an intense sense of calm, a moment that feels so right there is no doubt in your mind that this is the entire purpose of your existence and the thing that you should be doing forever.

Coins have two sides and, apparently, this is the currency of creativity.

So, what am I saying?

I guess I’m allowing myself to express my creativity however I feel is right for me at the time of creation. Removing the shoulds, musts and cants. Being the illustrator the one day and the branding obsessed the next. Being the girl who posts both drawing videos and branding case studies and not punishing myself with the fact that I’m “off brand” at any given time.

Because how can one be “off brand” if you are your own brand?

Logically speaking, if you are doing whatever lights you up then you are as on brand as possible and this is what other people want to see because when you are flowing and glowing that light is transmittable to other people as well.

So, give yourself permission to be you. To be the artist one moment and the writer the next. To talk about branding (or whatever) one day and then next talk about your favorite new coffee spot in town.

It all makes sense if you allow it.

You might say that “wow Sara, allowing yourself to be true to your creativity from now on, this sure does sound like a new year’s resolution.”

But this isn’t a resolution. It’s day 1.

xoxo,

Sara

One of my fun childhood memories (I’m talking at around 4 or 5 years old) is sitting on my grandmother’s bed (she always had the fluffiest down quilt), trying on all her diamond rings. I remember my fists clutched so all her oversized cocktail rings wouldn’t fall off (there was a large ring or two on every tiny finger) and her jewelry box was open in front of me, a treasure trove of sparkling gemstones.

A magic moment…

Megan Alida Strachan, the founder & CEO of the fine jewelry brand, Dorsey, has a similar memory.

Hers comes with a beautiful relationship linking many years of heartwarming moments shared between her and her grandmother, Dorsey. And that love, that connection, would ultimately become the seed for Dorsey, the brand.

If you spend any time at all on social media and have trained the algorithm to know that you have even the least bit of interest in jewelry, then the brand, Dorsey, probably needs no introduction.

Going on five years strong, it has completely reshaped the jewelry industry. Megan singlehandedly saw a gap in the market, that tricky space between affordability and exquisite craftsmanship, and she filled it with something bold.

She jumped on the lab-grown gemstone wave (before it was the popular thing to do) and created a collection of dazzling Rivière necklaces made with lab-grown sapphires and sterling silver, all produced to fine jewelry standards.

Minimal, nostalgic, chic and, most noteworthy: attainable.

In doing so, Megan Alida Strachan didn’t just carve out a niche. She created a new standard by bootstrapping a modern heirloom brand that doesn’t need an exorbitant price tag to feel luxurious. It doesn’t need a storefront to feel prestigious.

Dorsey is fully direct-to-consumer, and the website reflects that in the most elevated way. Scrolling through you’re greeted by gorgeous, clean photography, intimate product shots and carefully curated language. There is nothing hidden and, personally, I find that all my jewelry questions are answered before I even have a chance to ask them. Everything is set up so that you see exactly what you Add to Cart (and, perhaps, exactly who you could become when you eventually receive and wear the piece you selected).

And while Dorsey has been carried far and wide by influencers whose own experiences while wearing the jewels enhances the brand’s storyline, you could argue that the ultimate Dorsey girl is Megan herself (side note, reading her Substack and about her enthusiasm for long-form content actually influenced me to join Substack myself!). Her personal IG feed is full of her inspiring founders’ story, heartwarming memories of her lovely grandmother and behind-the-scenes clips of Dorsey photoshoots. She makes the brand come alive in the most honest way and her approach to being the founder behind a popular brand is flawless.

While writing this article, the image that automatically pops into my mind is one that was published in Vogue many years ago; the image is of supermodel, Amber Valletta, during the late ’90s or early 2000s. I can’t remember the issue or the stylist (do you remember the image I’m referring too?) but I remember the persona of the girl in the image. Standing there, backlit in the sun, with a shoulder-length bob, in a scoop neck white t-shirt and dripping in Rivière necklaces. Some were graduated, some were not. Some were delicate, some were bold.

And honestly? That’s the exact energy which lives inside Dorsey.

If you look at the brand’s official Instagram, you’ll see that it’s a visual mood board for this kind of woman. Every image is intentional, and although the grid is curated and stylized, it feels real and almost effortless.

Each girl in the featured campaigns looks like she’s just left the private event that everyone in New York wanted to be invited to; she’s wearing a vintage Tom Ford evening dress, Rivière necklaces layered down her chest and a sparkly cocktail ring (or two) on her finger.

Maybe she’s barefoot. Maybe she’s running for a cab. Maybe she’s just existing, in a moment of glamour you can’t manufacture.

And you can’t help but think: “If I buy this necklace, maybe I get to live in that moment too.”

Because the Dorsey brand persona is one that lives inside every person who’s ever clicked Add to Cart on a lab grown sapphire (or diamond, or emerald) Rivière necklace, vintage-inspired drop earrings, tennis bracelets, or any of the other must-have pieces the brand has added to their growing collection.

That’s what great branding does… it doesn’t just sell you a product. It sells you a story. Dorsey understands this deeply.

So, if there’s one takeaway from their brand, it’s this: Story is everything.

It’s the equation. It’s the mindset. It’s the entry point.

And going back to those little girls playing dress-up with their grandmother’s jewelry; I love that Megan didn’t just remember that feeling but she crafted a whole world from it.

These modern heirlooms don’t ask for permission. They look vintage yet contemporary and so they feel timeless. And when worn the way they’re meant to be worn, you’d never dream of asking if they came from Dorsey or from someone’s grandmother’s collection.

But if you know, you know.

Whether it’s a glance, a nod, or a whispered “I got it at Dorsey…” you’re in the club.

And it’s a really good club to be in.

In my last Branding in Real Life article, I deep dive into the magic that resonates from the cult wellness brand Moon Juice.

For long-form branding videos check out my most recent YouTube video about Prada for a full branding breakdown.

And if mini clips are more your thing, head on over to my Instagram to see short brand “unboxings” (including my latest for Dorsey too).

Sending you lots of love and creative inspiration!

Do you ever wish you could rebrand yourself?

I’m talking become a completely different person — one with different habits, different abilities, and different goals?

Happens to me all the time.

And sure, the type of rebrand I wish to go through always depends on my mood, and various circumstances or images that pop into my mind of situations I’d like to experience.

A common rebrand that pops into my mind is filled with sandy skin, sun on my shoulders, and a surfboard under my feet. Riding the waves.

In truth, I’m an average swimmer who never goes in the really deep end!

Nevertheless, one of the daydream rebrands I see for myself is often that of a surfer girl. I’m talking: getting up at 5 a.m. to surf in Costa Rica or Big Sur with the guys type. Driving a sky blue beat-up old Jeep without doors type. Adaptogen-swigging, ashwagandha-supplement-taking, drinking-cacao-with-ghee type.

I think I just wish that I had a Moon Juice in my neighborhood (okay, the country I live in) so I could just pretend I was all those things while I drank the good-for-me Mini Dew, so to speak.

In all honesty, Moon Juice has cultivated a daydream and turned it into an accessible reality for its customers. It’s one of those brands that can easily be described as a cult brand.

What do I mean by that?

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Just scrolling through their Instagram feed is like entering the brand universe.
There are refreshing images of fruit mixed with splashes of their colorful Dew drinks; interesting facts on, say, minerals, given in a colorful slideshow that has a touch of ’80s cartoon to it; charged crystals spinning through the air; and sparkles glimmering from a kitten’s fur making it look like a magic fairy. Not to mention clips of the brand founder, Amanda Chantal Bacon, making Ting Mate Lemonade in the most perfect sunny garden while wearing the most amazing pair of exaggerated cat-eye sunglasses you ever did see.

I mean… don’t you want to be a part of that world?

I certainly do. Which is why, since I don’t have a local Moon Juice to shop at, I ask a dear friend of mine who frequents LA to bring me back a couple jars of Ting (I just feel a bit more with it at 4 p.m. when I drink this), Magnesi-Om (convinced it helps me sleep better at night, and I’m usually a terrible sleeper), and Brain Dust (if you haven’t tried the brand’s Cosmic Cocoa recipe, omigosh you are missing out) for me in her luggage. Yes, she’s a good friend!

I don’t know, but having all those concoctions and tings floating around inside of me just makes me stand up straighter. I swear.

Am I a fan? Um, yeah. Obviously.

But what is it about the brand that has turned me and countless others (433k followers on IG alone can attest to this) into advocates?

Okay, yeah… the products aren’t a bargain (and there have been plenty of online debates over product costs), but hey… I love a brand that knows who they are, who their market is, and how to bring the two together.

Because, just like the best of brands, Moon Juice isn’t speaking to everyone. They’re speaking to their people. The ones who drink the kool-aid (or the Mini Dew), so to speak, and love it.

Here’s the thing: Moon Juice branding is perfectly on-point amplified by soft neutrals, cosmic symbols, and dusts bottled like apothecary-grade potions. The jars are minimalist but rich in vibe: think brown glass, soft hues, and playful yet confident typography that whispers more than it shouts. It's the kind of packaging that feels just as at home in a marble-lined bathroom as it does in an Instagram flatlay. The brand persona? She's your intuitive, glow-y bestie who mixes science with soul and is always sipping something functional. She’s aspirational, but familiar; and her energy shows up in every product, caption, and crystal-charged moment.

How could you not want to be a part of that world?

So yeah, at the end of the day, I pull on my sneakers and go for a walk around the hillside instead of pulling on a swimsuit and grabbing my surfboard at dawn. I don’t drive a sky blue beat-up old Jeep without doors (in fact, I don’t often drive). And I don’t really want to completely rebrand myself. I’m pretty happy with who I am.

But I can be a little part of that Moon Juice wellness world. All I have to do is drink my Ting. (Which I’m actually running really low on. I wonder when my friend is heading back to LA…)

In my last Branding in Real Life article, I shared why the Fondazione Prada in Milan is one of the most impeccable examples of translating a brand into real life.

And if you’re a fan of Prada’s branding (I mean, why wouldn’t you be?) you can check out my most recent YouTube video for a full branding breakdown.

And if mini clips are more your thing, head on over to my Instagram to see short brand “unboxings” that are really fun, if I do say so myself 😉

Sending you lots of love and creative inspiration!

Originally, this was going to be a follow-up or additional brand identity breakdown to go along with my YouTube video, Branding In Real Life: Prada. But when I got to thinking about it, I realized that my favorite Substack articles are the ones that really have a personal element to them; that offer a different perspective, but in an honest, first-person kind of way.

So, I will talk about Prada’s branding, but share with you an experience that really brought the brand to life for me in a way that my countless hours drooling over the brand’s gold brocade jackets and polished loafers at Bergdorf’s while a fashion design student at FIT (it was research, okay?) never did.

Rewind to 2016. Parts of the Fondazione Prada in Milan had just been completed by OMA, while its Tower was still a hard-hats-only construction site. I was there to interview the lead architect of the project, Federico Pompignoli, for my feature in the online design magazine, Yatzer.

It was also Milan Design Week, and the city was literally buzzing with excitement and exhibitions. I remember walking around, latte in hand (I realize espresso is the Italian coffee of choice, but I’m not Italian… I need my latte) and just thinking that I wish I could bottle up this feeling. All of the palazzi were open to the public, serving as venues for exhibitions from every designer under the sun. Weaving in and out of the crowds and actually being welcomed behind the gates that are usually closed was a memorable experience.

I know a lot of people who visit Milan regularly during MDW, and they always try to act so nonchalant or even condescending about it. Treating it like a chore instead of a privilege. But I love it.

So, the morning I spent at Fondazione Prada, I was in full Design Week exhibition mode. I was used to seeing spectacles and hard sells disguised as (sometimes campy) art installations or newsworthy statements.

The Fondazione was on a different planet.

There were no over-the-top exhibitions or loud installations. Instead, what greeted me was the most honest translation of a fashion designer’s brand ethos in real life.

The brand persona isn’t just a single human here. It is personified in the entire building; at once polished yet rough, a work that is both “done” and in progress.

The brand colors range from industrial gray cement to retro green terrazzo to shining 24-karat yellow gold leaf cladding.

The quirkiness of the brand logo is quietly visible in the rough vs. shiny surfaces, in every artfully disjointed yet connected corner, and in every juxtaposition of space and volume.

The Fondazione felt alive and breathing. As if it were designed to be the venue for every single Prada runway collection that has ever been, even before the building existed in its current manifestation.

Originally a distillery complex from the 1910s, the building is vast and yet intimate, industrial and yet polished.

I’d be lying if I said that the 24-karat gold cladding on the Haunted House building didn’t immediately catch my eye. Like a new manifestation of the gold brocade woven into a fur-collared Prada coat. The warm glow the gold leaf casts, even on an overcast day, is transforming.

Bar Luce, designed by filmmaker Wes Anderson, is situated directly across the courtyard from the Haunted House, and the warm gleam basks through the large plate-glass windows.

Bar Luce is part The Royal Tenenbaums and part Prada runway venue. In my video, I mention that Prada has a retro-from-another-reality feel to it, and that is exactly what you feel in Bar Luce as well. Think seafoam green formica furniture, brown terrazzo floors, and neon yellow or pink seat cushions. Like a bizarre time warp that you never want to escape.

A highlight of my visit was touring the Tower, the tallest of all the buildings and a new addition. We had to wear hard hats as the architect, Mr. Pompignoli, took us up the service elevator and guided us around freshly poured cement and iron rods poking from the bottom floors. I honestly don’t know if we were really allowed to be there, but who was I to argue with a once-in-a-lifetime experience?

We walked all the way up to the top (or almost the top) floor of the Tower construction site to see the view. It was amazing, and I was so enthralled I even managed to ignore my fear of heights (despite the goosebumps running up and down my arms, which kept trying to remind me of its presence).

The building complex stretched out before us; an almost playful spatial layout of red-tiled roof buildings, flat garden terraces, and non-linear pathways among it all. The gray cement of the newer structures juxtaposed with the sun-burnt finish of the older ones. And crowning it all, over in the top right corner, was the gilded Haunted House, which looked extra shiny from above.

I couldn’t help but feel that this was, at once, a great orchestration to bring to mind the brand whose name the complex bears—but at the same time, it all looked so effortlessly placed there. As if almost no thought was needed to design it, and yet it all looked so… Prada.

But then again, that is the best form of branding: creating a space that is so purposeful that one stops even noticing the reason it was created and instead begins to just feel its energy; and recognize it as the sum of its parts and what they represent.

Now, whenever I look at the Prada logo, I can’t help but instantly see this space and time in my mind’s eye: its industry and elegance, its burnished cement and 24-karat gold leaf cladding.