A Day in the Life of this Pattern Designer

(Spoiler: it’s coffee, tiny details… and a small existential crisis around 3 PM)
From the outside, pattern design might look calm, aesthetic, and beautifully put together. And sometimes it is. But most days? It’s a mix of structure, small decisions, creative flow—and the occasional “how is this still not right?” moment.
My day usually starts with coffee. That part is non-negotiable.
Before I even open Procreate, I make a priority list. Which patterns need attention? What needs adjusting, recoloring, or reworking? Having that list keeps me focused—at least in theory.
Next comes a very important step: the double check.
If I finished a pattern the day before, I always go back and review it with fresh eyes. After hours of working on the same design, it’s incredibly easy to miss small mistakes. Spacing that’s slightly off. A repeat that doesn’t feel balanced. Tiny details that suddenly become very obvious the next day.
Once that’s done, I move into creating.
Some days I’m working on a hero pattern—the main design that sets the tone. Other days, I build supporting “blender” patterns to go with it. Those quieter designs that tie everything together and make a collection feel complete.
Somewhere in between, inspiration sneaks in.
It might be from a walk, colors I pass by without even thinking, something I saved on Pinterest, or just a random combination that suddenly feels right. I try to stay open to those moments—they’re often where the best ideas begin.
Of course, there are also a lot of hours inside Procreate. Testing, adjusting, zooming in, zooming out. Moving something a few pixels. Moving it back again. That part is less glamorous—but very necessary.
And then… around 3 PM, it hits.
The creative collapse.
Suddenly I’m convinced I’ve lost all ability to design anything ever again. Everything looks wrong. Nothing works. I question all my life choices.
This is usually where another coffee happens.
And somehow—almost every time—by around 4 PM, I’m back. Reset. Seeing things clearly again, wondering why I was so dramatic an hour earlier.
Throughout the day, coffee breaks are not optional. They are part of the process. Possibly the most important part.
What I love most about this work is that something small—an idea, a shape, a quiet moment of inspiration—can grow into something that becomes part of someone’s home.
It’s not always perfect. It’s not always linear.
But it’s always a little bit magic.