Alune Stories: Thaís Esmeraldo

1) What’s something that you think defines you well to someone who doesn’t know you? It can be a characteristic, a hobby, or an interest.

Being a queer woman from the Northeast of Brazil. It might not mean much to those unfamiliar with the country, but it brought me a lot in terms of cultural and visual background. I spent my childhood and part of my teenage years in the sertão of Ceará — a region in the Brazilian hinterland that’s deeply creative and culturally vibrant (really, look it up!). Growing up there shaped the way I see, listen, and create.

That said, I think displacement has played a big role in how I understand identity. Moving from the countryside to the capital, then to São Paulo and Rio, and eventually to New York — each shift challenged and expanded how I see myself and the world.

These experiences gave me the possibility to navigate different perspectives. And I owe a lot of that to the queer community — for offering spaces where I could find belonging along the way. In that sense, my practice as a designer didn’t come from a single influence, but from this layered journey — and I see that as a real privilege.

2) Can you tell us a bit about your career in design?

One of my first encounters with design was during the early 2000s blog era — I was around 12 or 13, teaching myself HTML just to customize my layout. Later, while studying architecture, I took a visual communication class that made me realize design could actually be a career.

At the time, there were no graphic design programs in my home state, so I pursued a degree in Advertising and started interning early on. Not long after, I became a partner at Vela Narrativas Visuais, a branding studio I helped build in Fortaleza.

Still, I felt the need for a more formal design education. That led me to São Paulo, where I studied at Miami Ad School and later worked at studios like Tátil Design and Foresti. Eventually, I moved to Rio to join the brand and communication team at Globo — Brazil’s largest media company — where I still collaborate as a freelancer. The diversity of projects at Globo, from title sequences for TV shows to internal campaigns and event branding, helped shape me as a generalist designer.

Now based in New York, I work independently and have also taken part in creative sprints with teams like Matter and Papel & Caneta — experiences that allowed me to collaborate with people from different places and backgrounds, something I truly value.

3) How would you define design? What does it mean to you?

To me, design is a tool to materialize ideas — and that inevitably shapes the world around us. That’s why it’s so important to be intentional with our choices and deeply aware of who we are designing for and with.

At the same time, I believe it’s essential to recognize that designers are workers. Looking at design through a purely romantic lens — as if we have the power to “change the world” — can be a fast track to burnout and frustration. What I try to ask myself is: within my profession, how can I act responsibly and help shift structures, even if in small ways?

That’s also why using my skills to support causes I believe in is an inseparable part of who I am as a designer. Today, I volunteer as part of the Brazilian Lesbian Archive — and this kind of work nourishes me, too.

4) Is there a project in your portfolio that you particularly enjoyed working on and would like to share with us?

One project that really stayed with me was Te Reo, developed for Marae Moana, the world’s largest marine sanctuary, located in the Cook Islands. In 2023, I was invited by Papel & Caneta to join a creative sprint in New York aimed at developing a program to engage the islands' youth in preserving marine biodiversity and cultural heritage.

The visual identity — created in just three days (!) — was inspired by Tivaevae, a traditional textile art that resembles pixel art in its structure. Beyond the meaningful experience of contributing to such an important cause, collaborating and learning alongside people from different parts of the world made it even more special.

5) Could you share a reference, something that inspires you or that you really admire in your field?

One thing I admire deeply in the field is KUYA, a public design center in my home state of Ceará, Brazil. It’s a space that promotes access to design education, fosters critical thinking, and builds bridges between local culture and contemporary practice. Seeing something like this take shape in the place I’m from is incredibly meaningful — and a reminder of the power of design when it’s rooted in community.

Along those lines, I’m also inspired by designers who are intentional in their work and who challenge or play with the canon. Du Nieto, Tereza Bettinardi, Peu Lima, and Giulia Fagundes are just a few examples of that.

6) As a former student at the school, could you share a bit about your experience and what you enjoyed most?

I absolutely loved the classes — both for revisiting concepts I hadn’t thought about in a while, and for discovering Julia and Carlos’ creative process, which was incredibly inspiring.

One of my initial concerns was that the course might feel too basic, since I’ve been working in the field for over 10 years. But it turned out to be the opposite: it was thoughtful, engaging, and still accessible to different levels of experience.

For me, the best part was having the chance to experiment and receive meaningful feedback from people I deeply admire. That kind of exchange is rare, and it made the whole experience really special.

Follow Thaís Esmeraldo on LinkedIn, Instagram and visit her website.

Keep reading in our library:

Alune Stories: Kaylee Reynolds, Artist & Designer.

A View on Design: with Victor Belinatti, Design Lead at Work&Co.

Meet Julia B. Aguiar & Carlos Bocai — instructors of the Decoding Identities course.