Why I Started Haus of Beige

There wasn’t one dramatic moment that sparked Haus of Beige. Just a quiet need — a creative itch that wouldn’t go away.

I’ve worked in the creative industry for years, building ideas, campaigns, and teams inside a fast-paced corporate world. And I’ve loved so much of it — the challenge, the strategy, the storytelling. But the further I progressed, the further away I felt from being hands on. I missed making things. I needed an outlet.

The first version of Haus of Beige was a way back to design — digital prints, typography, layout-led work. But even then, something was missing. I craved texture. I craved analogue. I craved scissors and glue and paper under my fingernails. I still create digital work here and there, but I knew I needed more.

What’s funny is, I should’ve seen it coming. I was collage-obsessed as a teenager — the kind of person who filled notebooks with scraps and wrappers and ticket stubs. I’ve kept ephemera from every trip I’ve ever taken: receipts, room keys, fragments of menus. These days, it’s antique shops and car boot sales that pull me in. I’ve been collecting this stuff for decades without really knowing why. Turns out, I was just waiting for the right space to give it all a second life.

Haus of Beige is that space. A small, independent studio where slow making is the method and meaning is the material. It’s a place for music lyric prints, one-of-a-kind collage works, curated vintage finds and useful things with charm. Everything is made or sourced by hand, with an eye for nostalgia and a love of craft. Supervised, as always, by two pugs.

This journal is where I’ll share what’s taking shape, the process shots, the paper scraps, the framing trials, the packaging tests, and the beautiful in-between.

Thanks for being here. It feels good to be making again.