Design is not what I do. It is how I see.
I’m Antigoni Poulou, founder and creative director of La Memoirette — an atelier for celebrations that could only belong to the people they are made for.
For more than fifteen years my professional world has been design — branding, visual communication and creative direction at Poua Design. But design was never simply something I did for work. It is the way I look at a table, a room, a piece of paper, a July evening.
Long before La Memoirette had a name, I was the friend people called when something needed a creative eye. I designed and styled weddings and christenings for those close to me, shaped themed parties, gave form to dance performances and family celebrations — and somehow always ended up adding the final detail that made a moment feel considered, and personal.
La Memoirette simply gave that instinct a home.
I don’t begin with trends. I begin with people.
Their story, their personality, the place, the things they love — and sometimes the smallest detail that means something only to them. From there, I build a concept.
I don’t believe in decoration without a reason behind it. Every choice — the visual identity and stationery, the flowers, the objects, the materials, the styling — should belong to the same story. The result should never feel like an event that could have been made for anyone.
It should feel unmistakably yours.
Not a decorator.
A creative director.
My training is in graphic design, but my relationship with design never stopped at the page. I find it in fashion and interiors, in photography and architecture, in typography, objects, textures and spaces. I notice how things sit next to each other, how colours speak, how a material feels in the hand — and how one small detail can change the character of an entire setting.
That wider way of seeing is what I bring to every La Memoirette project: looking at the whole picture, and making sure every element speaks the same visual language.
Tradition is not a limitation. It is creative material.
I hold a deep affection for Greek culture — its local customs, its craftsmanship, the stories that belong to a place. But I am not interested in reproducing the past. I am interested in reimagining it.
A traditional motif becomes a contemporary graphic element.
A family object inspires an entire concept.
A detail from Corfu or Athens enters an event without ever feeling literal, or expected.
Perhaps that is what defines La Memoirette best: something contemporary and deeply personal, that never forgets where its story began.
If this way of working sounds like yours, I would love to hear what you are planning.