I'm Joyce, a Hong Kong-born Product Designer currently based in Calgary, Canada. With more than a decade of experience spanning telecommunications, fashion, and education, I bring a multidisciplinary approach to visual storytelling, branding, and digital experiences.
A living component library built to unify product experience across teams — scalable, accessible, and documented for design and engineering alike.
Exploring how movement, timing, and interaction bring digital experiences to life.
End-to-end product design work across research, ideation, prototyping, and delivery — solving complex user problems with clarity and craft.
A curated selection of brand identity and visual design work — from logo systems and typography to brand guidelines and campaign design.
The mark is built on the geometry of four interlocking circles, which simultaneously reads as three things: a plum blossom (梅花, a symbol of quiet elegance and persistence), a traditional Chinese window lattice (窗格, evoking heritage and craft), and the Seed of Life, a universal geometric form found across ancient cultures. Inside the interlocked rings, the intersections trace six petal shapes — echoing the numeral 六, which in Chinese culture carries connotations of smooth flow and good fortune (六六大順).
The mark is entirely linear — no fills, only strokes — which keeps it feeling refined and hand-drawn rather than corporate. It scales cleanly onto a jar lid seal, a kraft label, or a wedding gift tag, and inverts effortlessly from dark-on-cream to cream-on-crimson.
The calligraphy logotype (椒/房 stacked) uses a running-script style (行書) that sits between formal and informal — it feels like something a skilled artisan would stamp on their work, not a font from a dropdown menu.
椒房 sits at the intersection of 傳統手藝 (traditional craft) and 現代生活 (modern living). It's the kind of brand that belongs equally on a hotpot table, a Japanese BBQ spread, a wedding gift table, and a curated kitchen shelf. The Instagram grid confirms this: it lives in food culture broadly, not just Sichuan food specifically.
The brand voice, if it were to write captions or packaging copy, would be: warm, unhurried, quietly proud. Never loud. It doesn't need to shout "spicy" — the dried chilies speak for themselves.
Most chili oil brands in the market either go bold and playful (bright colors, cartoon characters) or go clinical and minimalist (Brutalist type, white labels). 椒房 carves out a third space: classical Chinese aesthetic, applied with modern restraint. The geometric logo has enough visual complexity to reward a second look, but reads as a simple, confident shape at a glance. The calligraphy grounds it in a specific cultural identity without being nostalgic or kitschy.
It's a brand that could sit alongside Japanese pantry staples or European artisan preserves and hold its own — while still feeling distinctly, quietly Chinese.
A collection of explorations, experiments, and design contributions that showcase my curiosity beyond core product work.
