Design Is Everywhere
A reflection with Amy Morris of The Morris Project
Meaning to the everyday
At Livolia, we see design not as a discipline, but as a way of moving through the world. It’s present in how we arrange our interiors, how we plant a garden, and how a brand tells its story. At its best, design holds us, quietly but with conviction. It brings order to chaos, warmth to function, and meaning to the everyday.
Few people live this truth more clearly than Amy Morris, founder of The Morris Project. Her work spans brand strategy, experience design, and storytelling, but it all comes back to one thing: listening closely, then designing accordingly.
Amy’s creative philosophy was shaped early. As a child, she spent hours in her mother’s quilt room, surrounded by shelves of fabric and the rhythm of careful hands at work. It was a space filled with color and intention, where every material had a purpose and every piece was part of a greater whole. That foundation stayed with her. Later, working with editors at Condé Nast and early tech leaders in the 1990s, she learned how to channel creativity into clear, effective outcomes.
“I’ve always been a contrarian,” she says. “If someone tells me, ‘That’s just the way it’s done,’ I take that as an invitation to ask if it could be done better.”
It’s that blend of rebellious curiosity and disciplined thinking that defines her process and the results show. Her work has helped restaurants earn Michelin stars, guided B2B tech companies into consumer-facing relevance, and even shaped public perception for figures like Richard Branson.
At the heart of her work is brand positioning, something many companies underestimate or ignore altogether. Amy has developed a rigorous Q&A process where every decision-maker responds individually, without discussion. “I want the full picture,” she explains. “The CFO will have a different perspective than the CMO, but within those varied answers, I can always find the common thread.”
And it’s not just strategy on paper. Amy sees branding as something that must live in the real world—at the bar, in a restaurant, on the shelf at a market. In hospitality, she says, design works alongside food and service to shape a guest’s expectations and experience. “Design sets the tone. It impacts mood, behavior, how long someone stays. And in today’s culture, people see where they eat and even what they buy at the grocery store, as part of their personal brand.”
She brings that same clarity to the smallest interactions. One client wanted their bar to feel more social, more open. So she placed beautifully designed tic-tac-toe games on the counter an easy invitation to play, engage, start a conversation. In another space, she designed matchbooks that asked a simple question, something guests could use to spark dialogue with the person next to them. These aren't gimmicks. They’re tools for connection.
When clients come to her in creative chaos, she doesn’t panic. “I let the process do its work,” she says. Often, clients think they’re one thing, like ‘fine dining’ but their references say something else entirely. Through her framework of questions and visuals, she helps them get to the root of what they actually want to build. Clarity, she believes, comes not from controlling the process, but from trusting it.
Amy’s creative practice is structured and deeply organized. “Organization is freedom,” she says. “A lot of creatives forget that structure brings clarity. It’s what allows me to stay hands-on with every project while also managing a team and growing a business.” That attention to detail extends to everything from client communication to the objects in her studio. Her desk holds a sculpture gifted by her husband, a dish designed by Estelle Hohn, a painting from her time in London, and a small ceramic cup that holds daily inspiration cards. “I need to be surrounded by things that spark joy and memory.”
“Organization is freedom,” she says. “A lot of creatives forget that structure brings clarity. It’s what allows me to stay hands-on with every project while also managing a team and growing a business.”
And if you ask her what The Morris Project would be if it were a restaurant? “I’m a baker,” she says with a laugh. “We always have cookie dough in the freezer. Chocolate chip, shortbread, blueberry scones I’ve spent ten years perfecting. It’s about pleasure and ease something warm and ready, something that brings comfort.”
It’s that spirit, equal parts grounded and generous, that runs through all of Amy’s work. At Livolia, we recognize that same rhythm in our own projects. Whether we’re designing a bathroom, a landscape, or a brand, the starting point is always the same: listening. And the goal? To create something that holds meaning for the people who use it.
Because design is not just about how things look. It’s about how they make us feel, what they help us remember, and how they quietly shape the way we move through the world.
“We always have cookie dough in the freezer. Chocolate chip, shortbread, blueberry scones I’ve spent ten years perfecting. It’s about pleasure and ease something warm and ready, something that brings comfort.”