Every print in the Studio Ninette shop has a bit of a backstory. And that story starts, weirdly enough, with procrastination.
Les Procrastinateurs Anonymes
A while back, I started an Instagram account called Les Procrastinateurs Anonymes — Procrastinators Anonymous. The name was very much on purpose. I’d always been someone who put off creating. Not because I didn’t want to, but because sharing felt uncomfortable, almost wrong. I’m someone who obsesses over details, who can’t let something go until it feels right. Posting casually, regularly, publicly? That was not exactly my comfort zone.
The account was meant to be a release valve. A place where I’d finally just… post. My own designs, and eventually other artists too — I had this vision of it becoming a little community, a platform for different creative voices. (Spoiler: I never got around to inviting anyone else. Typical.)
The “one poster a day” experiment
For a while, I tried the disciplined approach. One poster a day, like a lot of designers do to build a practice and stay consistent. And I get why it works for some people — the constraint forces you to create, to ship, to let go.
It didn’t work for me.
I’d sit down to make something “quick” and end up spending hours on it. Tweaking the composition, reworking the typography, questioning every color choice. The rhythm of daily posting clashed completely with how I actually work. Quality matters too much to me to rush it — and I’m just not built for “good enough.”
Finding my own pace
So I stopped trying to force a pace that wasn’t mine. I kept creating, but on my own terms — spending as long as a piece needed, not as long as a deadline allowed. The posters got better. They started to feel like something I was actually proud of.
Les Procrastinateurs Anonymes is still alive — it’s where I share more freely, less polished, more process. Studio Ninette is where the finished things live. Two sides of the same creative brain, basically.
The bigger picture
Studio Ninette didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s the natural extension of what I do professionally — graphic design, art direction, front-end development. Years of working on other people’s projects, other people’s briefs, other people’s visions. The studio and the shop became the place where all of that experience gets to exist on its own terms, without a client brief in sight.
The shop is a logical extension of that. A way to put finished, considered work into the world — work that reflects the same standards I bring to everything else I do, just with full creative freedom.
Why this matters for the prints
When you buy a print from the shop, you’re getting something that went through a lot of hours and a lot of second-guessing before it made the cut. Not every design I make ends up here — most don’t. The ones that do are the ones I kept coming back to, the ones that still felt right after the tenth look.
Limited editions aren’t a marketing trick. They reflect how I actually work: slowly, carefully, and without producing more than I believe in.
— Studio Ninette, designed in Belgium.