- Day job
- Design
- Actual boss
- The cats
- Salary
- ₹0. Same as Karishma.
- Reviews
- Ignored, then judged
- Will disappear to
- The mountains, if you say “move it slightly left”
The design half
Hi, I'm Gayatri. I judge fonts. Professionally.
I'm the design half of The Loud Mouth Marketer. Karishma comes up with the words. I stare at them for a while, move things three pixels, hate everything, fix it, hate it again, and eventually make it look like something people actually want to stop and look at.
I like design with a personality. Not the kind where everything is beige, perfectly aligned and “premium” because somebody added a serif font.
(Yes, this website uses a serif. We've discussed it.)
I like design that's a little weird and never boring, whether that means loud or stupidly simple. I'm also fairly opinionated, so yes, I will ask why that button is there, why we need seven colours, and why every startup suddenly wants the exact same gradient.
Nice is easy. I want it to have a mood.
I want someone to look at the thing and know an actual person made it.
Outside work, I travel, disappear into new places and collect visual references without meaning to. A shop sign. A badly painted wall. A menu. A bus ticket. The lettering on the back of a truck. A colour combination someone clearly picked by accident. Honestly, bad design is some of my favourite inspiration. Mostly because it makes me want to fix it.
And then there are cats. Karishma has an entire dog government running her life. I have cats occupying mine. So a completely reasonable percentage of our conversations has nothing to do with work.
- Things I'm weirdly particular about:
- Spacing. Bad spacing genuinely bothers me.
- Anything two pixels off. There goes my evening.
- Colours that are almost right.
- Centring things that have no business being centred.
- Drop shadows on everything, like it's still 2012.
And please don't ask me to make the logo bigger before I've had coffee.
Where to next
Dump your marketing trauma here.
We’ll be ruthless with whatever’s killing your audience, and sweet as sugar to you :)
Give us 48 hours. No 45-minute sales pitch. We’ll give you the raw diagnosis of where the fire is.
Give Gayatri something ugly →