Pricing is always the elephant in the room. If you’re wondering what we charge, we’re not hustlers and neither are we cheap. We know the value we bring, but we also know our impact varies depending on the size of your business and the scale of the opportunity. So instead of playing hardball, we have a sensible conversation. We then agree on a fixed fee in advance that leaves us both feeling good about getting started. If you want a number written down, get in touch and let’s start the conversation.

As John Donne says, no studio is an island. We have strong partnerships with other independent practitioners who support us with copywriting, website development, animation, photography and illustration. These aren’t random freelancers; they’re either professionals we’ve worked with countless times before or experts who fill a niche. In these situations, we see our role as the conductor of an orchestra. We’re transparent about these relationships and clear about where our role begins and ends.

We love the damn things. However, we also love designing for print so there are times when our job involves using paper. Even though this might sound like bad news for the trees, we believe there’s a time and a place for print – as long as it’s sourced from the right places. To minimise our impact, we partner with B-Corp and EMAS-certified, carbon-negative printers such as Generation Press in Brighton. To shrink that carbon footprint even further, we explore environmentally-friendly print processes and FSC certified or recycled papers. Basically, if a job involves paper, we plant trees through our forestry partners in the UK to tip the balance in favour of Mother Earth.

I have a five-year-old called Herbie. I wonder about his interests when he’s older. What music will he listen to, what football club will he support (the answer is West Ham), and what causes will he care about. I can imagine one day having a conversation with him about the state of the planet. I want him to know that I acted with him and his generation in mind. This is one of the reasons we'll be joining B1G1, a philanthropic community helping change peoples lives and tackling the issues that are trashing the environment.

Listen to Wynton Marsalis on A Love Supreme and then tell me there’s such a thing as rules. I love listening to jazz because those musicians knew how to colour outside the lines. Whenever I hear Don Cherry, Miles Davis or Andrew Hill, I remember that the sweetest notes are often out of bounds. In my design work, I observe details, not rules. Whether it’s a font choice or a gridline, there’s a reason behind every decision even if it came from instinct rather than logic. After all, a broken rule is tomorrow’s trend.

Years ago, I founded a design studio in London. Our thing was branding and design for the music industry. Through word of mouth, we grew. Even though I have quite a few stories from those years and some minor brushes with fame, I wouldn’t go back to that setup. Progressing to more senior roles in the design world is like watching the tide go out to sea. You don’t realise it’s happening, but suddenly you’re a long way from hands-on work. After leaving London, I decided to run a remote studio and partner with like-minded creatives, not employ them. When I founded Points in 2005 (although it was called something different back then), I decided not to grow the team because I always wanted to be the one holding the pencil.

I grew up in a Sussex town that was, according to The Sunday Observer Magazine, created by God. It wasn't. But the South Downs could well have been. I’m fortunate that my studio backs onto these hills. Moving to London in the mid-90s with all its visual stimuli was an amazing time but it had a tendency to cause friction with my way of thinking rather than influence it. I’d always been drawn to those who wanted to create the zeitgeist – yet in the city, there was a pull to follow the zeitgeist.

 

In the words of R.E.M., We All Go Back To Where We Belong. I’m still willingly caught in London’s gravitational pull. I love the place. But rediscovering the landscape where I was born, surrounded by a million shades of green, allowed me to slow down and percolate again. The speed and excitement of a metropolis are still very much intertwined in my psyche but as a burst of inspiration rather than a backdrop. I go to London for inspiration and return to the South Downs for creation.

Well, I should say lessons from my dad. When I was a boy he told me that if you’re going to do a job, then do it well or don’t bother doing it at all. He was inspired by West Ham and England captain, Bobby Moore, who was arguably the greatest captain of all time, wearing the armband for England at the tender age of 22. If a player fell short of expectations, they were more likely to get a sideways glance rather than a verbal dressing down. And praise was rationed for those who earned it. Moore’s judgement and work ethic were sensational. He cared about the details; about how something was done rather than what was done.

 

So, every chore I did around the house – from washing the dishes to cutting the grass and especially cleaning my football boots – I approached with a fastidious work ethic. I would focus on the end result, not the time it takes. Today, quality and rigour are central to my design work. When I’m working on a project, I ask myself, “What would Bobby say?” … and more importantly, “Would dad say it’s a job well done?”