In 2023, when I was moving from my first job, I was in a flux. I was leaving an amazing team and nothing would come close. I was hesitant to take up another job because I knew it would be impossible to find a place with the same great combination of work and people I had at my first company. The logical step was to take a vacation and go island hopping in Thailand with my best friend, Dharam. Because nothing says 'I'm making smart career decisions' like running away to Southeast Asia first. But after that, the only thing I felt I could do was freelance. I was lucky enough that Dharam wanted to join me in this endeavor. We were excited, maybe a bit naive, but we were ready to figure it out together.
At first, it felt liberating. I had control over my time, my projects, my schedule. I could work from home in my pajamas if I wanted to. Spoiler: I wanted to. A lot. I'd just moved into a new place and spent all day with my dog, which honestly was amazing. My dog, at least, thought I'd finally figured out life.
The first thing that hit me was how quickly the lines between my personal life and professional life became completely blurred. I'm somebody who does a lot of passion projects. I need space to step back and do things of my own. But the freedom and control over my time, instead of energizing me, made me lazy. I started to procrastinate more. I was working at odd times with no real consistency at all. Everything just bled into everything else. There was no boundary, no rhythm, no structure to hold onto.
And then I realized something else: I need to step out of my house or I will go crazy. I figured this out way too late. Working from home sounds romantic until you've been staring at the same four walls for months. I like dressing up to step out. Fashion sets a big tone for me and I feel more prepared for the day if I'm dressed well. Stepping out to work sets a tone, an implicit routine that tells your brain it's time to focus. When you're working for yourself, it's even more important to invest in a working space that's not in your home, whether that's a co-working space, cafe, or studio. Whatever works best for you. I wish I'd known this earlier.
But beyond the lack of routine, there was something deeper that bothered me. It's extremely lonely to work by yourself, at least for me. I thrive in community. I'm honestly so lucky that I had Dharam to help me, but even then, I felt stretched thin. We were too naive to recognize our need for additional resources. I was too proud of my own skills and thought I could do everything myself. This attitude helps you start, but it never helps you scale.
All the clients I had were extremely lovely and treated me as much a part of their team as anyone. But a ticking clock on a relationship certainly impacted my perception of ownership in the freelance model. There's a glass ceiling, and you really feel it when you hit that wall.
Then there's the reality that nobody talks about enough: the logistics. The romance of freelancing crashes spectacularly against the wall of 'Wait, I have to send how many invoices?' There is so much automation and administrative work you need to be on top of. Not only your design work, but your taxes and finances. Invoices, contracts, tracking payments, chasing clients. Turns out 'creative' and 'Excel spreadsheets' don't always go together. I know this can be figured out and a lot of people have done it, but I still find this to be the most annoying part. My advice? Automate it as much as you can. Seriously. Pay for it if you have to. It's so much cheaper with AI now. Set up systems early on: structure a working schedule from day one, databases and tools to track your projects, finances, and time. Don't wait until you're drowning to build the scaffolding.
Over the course of that year, I realised something important about myself. I often hear that designers should be founders. And before you say anything, I'm all for it. But I think in our excitement, we tend to ignore the chores and ancillary tasks that come with being a founder. Running a business is a lot of other things besides design. For me, I want to use my own time to make things that are exploratory in nature. Take on big projects just to explore or build with no financial outcome attached to it whatsoever. It could range all the way from making posters to apps, from screen-printing to photography, whatever the whim takes me to. So rather than a founder, I'd like to be an artist.
Working in-house gives me the environment I like: ownership and the opportunity to surround myself with exceptionally talented and smart people. It gives me a routine and stability to attach to, so in my free time I can explore my creative impulses freely and with no obligation to anyone. That's the paradox I discovered: structure gave me more creative freedom, not less. The boundaries I thought would limit me actually protected the space I needed for play.
Look, I know starting a studio isn't a new thing and so many other people do it so much better. It really makes me happy when I see people starting their own ventures and studios.In the end it comes down to choosing what works for you. I know this sounds super generic, but it really is like that. The Twitter-sphere and other designers will tell you why one works and one doesn't. But the only way to truly find out is by doing both and getting the answer for yourself. I truly believe in fucking around and finding out.
Had I not tried and failed at this, I wouldn't have known the distinction I want to draw between my personal and professional pursuits. I hope this essay helps give you perspective in terms of how to tackle your decision.
STAY
IN
THE
LOOP
NO SPAM. OCCASIONAL CERTIFIED GOOD STUFF.
PLS
COME
SAY
HI :)
