The Material Language of Design
Design, to me, has always been a conversation between what is seen and what is felt. The materials we choose speak a language of their own, one that whispers rather than shouts, but leaves a lasting impression long after the first glance has passed.
Foiled & Letterpresses studio greetings cards in a translucent envelope.
I often think about how paper carries memory. Its weight, its texture, the quiet resistance as a pencil moves across its surface, these details shape how a brand feels before a word is even read. The choice between a soft, uncoated stock and a smooth, satin finish can alter perception entirely: one feels intimate and tactile, the other precise and polished. Neither is right or wrong, but each tells a different story.
Blind embossed & letter pressed cards for Amare ⟶ View Project
In my own work, I’m endlessly drawn to material honesty, to finishes that enhance rather than disguise. Blind embossing that plays with light and shadow. Transparent layers that invite curiosity. A restrained palette of creams, whites and neutrals that allows texture to do the talking. I think there’s something quietly luxurious about design that invites touch and rewards attention to detail.
Paper & print samples
Stationery collection for Grace & Kin ⟶ View Project
Foiled business cards for Format Designs ⟶ View Project
Perhaps that is the real beauty of material design: it slows you down. It asks you to notice. In a digital world that moves at relentless speed, the tactility of paper, the weight of ink, the soft impression of a letterpress become gentle reminders that craft still matters.
Good design should always move us; visually, emotionally and sensorially. Because long after we forget the colour or the font, we remember how something felt, it is a human response, an instinct to touch.
Thank you for reading,
