Rebuilding the visual system for a paper-RFID startup, then producing everything that had to live inside it.
PulpaTronics makes RFID tags out of paper. No metal antenna, no chip, no laminate, which is the whole point: over 18 billion RFID tags are manufactured for single use every year, and a million items carrying a PulpaTronics tag instead saves around 2,400kg of CO2 a year. It's a B2B sustainability play, and it was pitching to retail brands that judge a supplier partly on whether it looks like it will still exist in three years.
I joined as a design intern in London in 2024, into a team of eight, as the only designer in the company. The brief was brand building, which at that size meant whatever the brand needed that week, decided by me.
Three strands, and each one grew out of the one before it.
The old palette was three colours: a deep Business Blue, a Paper White, and a Peace Blue turquoise that existed in the spec but was barely used anywhere. In practice the brand ran on desaturated earthy tones, dark blues, browns and greys, with beige and off-white doing most of the work. It read as faded paper. Appropriate for a paper product, less appropriate for a technology company asking retailers to bet on it.
The positioning was the real constraint. PulpaTronics is a B2B startup selling an unproven material into an industry that buys on reliability, and there are two ways to get that wrong. Look too much like a startup and you lose the reliability. Look like an established supplier and you lose the only reason anyone should pick you over the incumbent.
The old palette had drifted hard into the second. Earthy, low-contrast, quiet: it read as a company that had always been there and intended to keep doing the same thing, which is the exact opposite of the claim the product makes. What it needed to read as was early and inevitable. A company on a trajectory, not one holding a position. Practically that meant keeping the deep navy, because trust is what a supplier sells, and finally spending the turquoise, because nothing in the system was saying that anything was happening.
The mapping is where the work actually is. A muddy warm black came out of the system entirely. The navy was cleaned and deepened. The mid blue lifted substantially, from a near-grey rgba(40,54,65) to rgba(69,114,134). A neutral grey became an actual light blue. Pure white softened to paper white, so nothing on the page glares.
It reads better in motion than in a table, so here it is as one:
The colour system, rebuilt
Six colours, and the brightest one sitting unused in the spec. A muddy warm black comes out of the system entirely. Nothing was doing its job. The navy is cleaned and deepened. The mid blue lifts out of near-grey into an actual blue. The neutrals stop being neutral. A grey becomes light blue; pure white softens to paper. And the turquoise finally gets a job: one accent, used sparingly, in the slot the dead colour left.
That system is what the brand runs on now. It was adopted across the website and the wider brand, and the layouts below are the first things built inside it.
With the system settled, the rest of the internship was output. Everything below is made inside those constraints.
PulpaTronics was eight people, and I was the only designer in it. That number changes what design is. There is no design team to sit inside, no brand guardian upstream of you, and nobody writing you a brief.
The habit a large company builds in you is waiting. You take a problem as far as your level allows, lay out two or three routes, and hand them upward for someone more senior to choose between. That's a rational habit there. It is useless at eight people, because there is nobody above you who knows more about this than you do. If the palette is wrong, no one is going to come and tell you it's wrong. You have to go and find out whether it's wrong, teach yourself whatever you're missing, and then decide.
The job stops being "present options" and becomes "own the outcome". Research it, learn what I don't know, choose, and turn up with the finished thing rather than a menu.
That last part is the half people underestimate. Deciding privately is easy. What the role actually asks is that you get people who aren't designers, and who are busy with something else, to trust a judgement they can't independently check. You earn that by arriving with a resolved answer and the reasoning behind it, not with a set of alternatives that quietly hands the decision back to them. Doing that made me the owner of the work in a way I don't think I'd have learned as one designer among thirty.
It also means the brand is never one company's problem for long. A hardware startup selling into retail lives in other people's contexts: joint campaigns, partner brands, other London startups whose own identity has to sit next to yours without either one losing. The illustration set was for a campaign run with Petit Pli, and a chunk of my remaining time went to collaboration pages and UI support where PulpaTronics appeared as somebody else's partner rather than as the host.
This is the thing I'd most likely have missed if I had only ever grown up inside a large team, and it's what I took out of a startup and kept. Everything I've built since, including founding my own venture, runs on it.
The design work is only half of the job. The other half is being the person who decides, and who can say why clearly enough that other people back the decision.