It started with Baby Phat—one of the most underrated, iconic brands of the early 2000s. The logo, a poised cat silhouette with a long, curving tail, glimmering with rhinestones, embodied the era's love for bling and extravagance. I would visit their website in middle school, filling my cart with dreams my piggy bank couldn’t afford. Every time, the logo sparkled, animated with metallic colors and glitter effects, and I found myself mesmerized. I wondered: How did they create this? How could I create something like this?
Determined to find out, I scoured the web for tutorials on Photoshop and Flash (which no longer exists!), meticulously following step-by-step written instructions. Video tutorials weren’t yet a thing. I recreated Baby Phat's signature logomark by making tiny, shiny circles and animating them to mimic the exact shimmering effect of their logo. The thrill of successfully replicating something created by a multi-million-dollar company filled me with an indescribable sense of accomplishment. For the first time, I felt like I understood the process behind creating a high-level design, even though I was just 13 and barely scratching the surface.
My obsession with creating quickly expanded beyond the Baby Phat logo. I started designing animations and full-on Flash websites, playing with every tool available until I knew them inside and out. I simply couldn’t stop.
One of my earliest projects was an image of a movie theater, where I used an LED-style font to write my name and animated it to scroll seamlessly across the marquee. When I showed my friend, she laughed and said she could see my name on something big one day.
She believed in me, but I preferred being behind the scenes. I was shy and never craved the spotlight. My anxiety made sure of that.
Then, life got in the way. High school happened. I moved across the country and switched to multiple schools. New friends and social life slowly became my focus. I coasted until the odd summer jobs weren't fulfilling. But I still wanted to make money.
I dusted off my laptop and messaged a few people on social media who hosted events, offering to design their flyers for free. I just needed a foot in the door, I thought. One promoter accepted my offer. I made the flyer, and days later, I opened my mailbox to find an envelope with a $20 bill inside. I hadn’t asked for payment, but there it was, and that moment changed everything. Soon, I was designing logos, business cards, t-shirts, flyers—anything and everything. Word spread quickly, and my inbox filled with requests.
In college, I changed majors multiple times, from Business to Criminal Justice (I was convinced I could be a PI), before finally landing on Fine Arts with a concentration in Graphic Design. My love for design had evolved from a hobby into something more. After all, I was taking client calls between classes and spending long nights working on design projects.
At 21, my partner invested in a tattoo shop in Prospect, Kentucky, a small affluent city near Louisville. The bicycle shop next door was moving, leaving an open retail space. My partner suggested I open a graphic design studio with friends in the printing industry. Without hesitation, I said yes. Located along the river, with restaurants, upscale properties, and boats lined up at the docks, it felt like I had arrived. I designed a full vinyl wrap for the storefront door to announce our presence, transforming the space into a proper print and graphics shop. I spent my days at the shop, doing homework at the counter while assisting the occasional customer.
But the reality of balancing school, business, and social life was overwhelming. I couldn’t give the company the attention it deserved, and eventually, I moved back to California.
Once I returned, my career started to take off. I landed one of my first jobs as a professional graphic designer for a media company, where I spent my time designing ads, creating newspaper layouts, and other graphics. Overflowing with ideas, I took charge of marketing for a significant annual event at the media company. I revamped the promotional materials with a fresh, compelling approach and inserted the flyer all over the web (with and without permission), and ticket sales began to double year after year. I still remember stepping into the first event I had helped market. It was a sea of people, shoulder to shoulder, packed so tightly that moving through the crowd felt impossible.
I kept freelancing on the side, and my co-workers knew it. Since they worked in sales, they often dropped my name whenever a business mentioned needing a website or marketing help, turning them into potential clients for me.
Then came the biggest leap of all. I left the corporate world completely. No backup plan. Just an idea: Jeergo.
The name meant nothing, much like "Google" when it first started. What does that even mean? Nothing until you make it mean something. It was short, five letters, and the .com was available. It was uncommon, but it felt right.
Within the first month on my own with my new business, I received my first check. It was from a juice shop in the West Portal area of San Francisco. I designed everything—the logo, menus, and website—and put them on a monthly subscription plan. I managed their social media, ensured their branding stayed fresh, and handled their online marketing. I even got a local news site to publish an article about their launch. This model worked, and soon, similar clients followed.
Then, I landed a client that made my leap into the unknown all worth it: a luxury magazine.
At first, they wanted me to design their entire publication, cover to cover. Then, they pulled me into their digital platforms. They listened to my ideas. They had no email marketing—I built it from scratch. They had unused email lists—I optimized them. I embedded newsletter sign-ups across their platforms, and before long, the list had grown to 40,000 subscribers.
I integrated an easy payment system for print subscriptions, increasing print-to-door sales by 89%. I improved their SEO and content strategy. I wasn’t just a designer; I became a trusted partner. I blurred the lines between being a contractor and an integral part of their team. Soon, they listed me as the Art Director in their magazine!
This was also a surreal time in my life. Thanks to the magazine, I found myself attending exclusive events and high-profile galas, standing among people I never imagined meeting. From shaking hands with mayors to engaging in small talk with top executives, I even found myself sharing a moment with Nancy Pelosi.
My experience with the magazine and other clients shaped a new standard for how I approached design. I combined all my knowledge, experience, talents, and expertise to help companies, not just visually but strategically. The once-shy girl was now speaking up, sharing ideas, and taking charge.
Fifteen years after obsessing over a sparkling cat logo, I was no longer just recreating designs—I was creating impact. What started as a childhood fascination had turned into a career beyond my imagination.
Fast forward to today, and I’m still working with some of the very first clients who took a chance on me. My designs have found their way onto billboards, storefronts, and the windows of buildings across San Francisco. But more than anything, I’m grateful to do what I love, to collaborate with incredible people, and to see my work making a real impact on my clients. And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that this is just the beginning.
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