These books were an exercise in restraint.
Jessica’s work is about creating space — in homes, wardrobes, routines, and minds — and the design had to embody that philosophy rather than decorate it. Every decision became a question of subtraction. What could be removed so that what remained felt intentional? What could soften, so the words could breathe?
The process wasn’t about making something visually loud or impressive. It was about listening closely... to the tone of Jessica’s voice, the rhythm of her writing, the quiet confidence of her worldview — and allowing the design to support that without interruption.
Typography was given room. Margins widened. Imagery was allowed to feel like a pause, not a performance. Texture and paper choice mattered as much as layout, because these books weren’t just read — they were meant to be held, lived with, returned to.
This project reminded me that design doesn’t always need to lead. Sometimes its highest role is to create calm, to hold the structure, and to let meaning arrive gently.
These books don’t ask for attention.
They make space for reflection.
