In the early 2000s, as a fresh-faced student of Industrial Design at TU Delft, I was captivated by the tactile nature of our craft. The creative process was messy, hands-on, and often analog. One of the essential tools of the trade was the moodboard—a carefully assembled collection of visual inspiration, pieced together from magazine clippings, photographs, and found objects. It was a creative exercise that required scissors, glue, and endless patience.
Back then, inspiration was something you physically gathered. I remember scouring the shelves of magazine shops, searching for the perfect image that would capture the essence of a concept I was working on. One of my favorite finds? *Monocle* magazine. Launched in 2007, it felt like a breath of fresh air—its pages filled with insights into global culture, design, and business, presented with such precision and depth that it instantly resonated with me as a designer. From the start, I became a dedicated subscriber.
In those days, I would visit physical magazine shops to purchase *Monocle*—an intentional ritual, not just for the magazine itself, but for the serendipitous discovery of other titles. The stacks in my home grew as I amassed issue after issue, refusing to part with any of them. These magazines were more than just reference material; they were symbols of a particular moment in design, a testament to a world that was at once more tactile and, perhaps, more deliberate.
But the design world was on the cusp of transformation.
Fast forward to today, and the design process looks markedly different. The traditional moodboard, once made of paper and glue, has been replaced by the sleek efficiency of digital tools. Platforms like Milanote, Miro, and Pinterest have revolutionized how we gather and organize inspiration. Where I once spent hours thumbing through magazines, I can now pull together a digital board in minutes, with content drawn from every corner of the web.
This shift reflects more than just convenience; it’s emblematic of the larger digital transformation sweeping across the design industry. The introduction of tools like Figma, Adobe XD, and Sketch has redefined how designers collaborate and execute ideas. Workflows that were once slow and linear have become fast and iterative, allowing for real-time feedback and global collaboration. In many ways, this move to a digital workstream has opened up new avenues for creativity. We're no longer constrained by the limitations of physical materials or geography—we can prototype, test, and refine ideas in virtual spaces before they ever come to life in the real world.
At The Hybrid Consultancy, we've fully embraced this shift. Our work is centered around the digital tools that allow us to bring more agility and precision to each project. From early-stage ideation to final deliverables, the entire design process is now streamlined, scalable, and far more efficient than it was even a decade ago.
Despite the undeniable benefits of going digital, there’s still a part of me that feels a certain nostalgia for the analog. There’s something irreplaceable about the tactile nature of flipping through a magazine, the weight of it in your hands, the smell of the ink. These experiences can’t be digitized, and they remain an essential part of my creative DNA.
*Monocle* has been a constant throughout this transformation. For over a decade, it served as a steady source of inspiration—its pages marked with the kind of nuanced insight and craftsmanship that resonates with designers. And yet, as my wife and I prepare to welcome our first child this October, I've found myself rethinking my relationship with these physical objects.
The reality is, space is limited, and the back issues that once occupied a place of honor in my office are now being carefully boxed up and donated. I have to be honest with myself—when was the last time I actually pulled out an issue from 2007? And even if I wanted to, the *Monocle* archive is now available online, complete with an app that puts the entire back catalogue at my fingertips. The content is still there, and yet, saying goodbye to the physical magazines feels like closing a chapter.
As designers, we’re trained to see change not as a threat but as an opportunity. The shift from analog to digital has unlocked new possibilities in our work, allowing us to innovate in ways we could never have imagined before. And while I’ll always have a soft spot for the tangible, I recognize that this is part of the evolution of our field.
The design world of today is fast, dynamic, and constantly changing—and that’s exciting. We now have tools at our disposal that make us more agile, more responsive, and more connected to the world around us. As I box up my old magazines and prepare for this new chapter of life and work, I’m reminded that progress is not about holding on to the past, but about embracing the future with open arms.
Since 2006, much has changed. But one thing remains constant: our ability to adapt and grow with the times.
