Creativity. Curiosity. Culture. Three words that have dominated the creative industry for what seems like a decade.

For a business built on the creativity of the people within it, creating the conditions for creativity to thrive is a business imperative. Has anyone ever had their best idea within the confines of an airless zoom cupboard?

Yet while zoom cupboards might well be the destination where creative dreams go to die, life is rarely frictionless. It is all too easy to waste your life, or at the very least a working day, in an endless pursuit of the ‘perfect time’ to do meaningful and focused work (spoiler alert: no such thing exists).

Constraint has long been the fuel of creativity. The Oulipo movement of French writers and mathematicians, founded in the 1960s, who actively sought out constrictions of form and pattern to better mould their writing and focus their creative thinking, being an early example.

When so much of leadership is energy it is increasingly important to take personal responsibility for staying inspired and informed. Curiosity demands consistency. With this in mind, in a two-part series, we asked agency leaders how they are finding their creative inspiration in the dark days of January?

Yes, January is dark. Yes, it follows the giddy heights of Christmas. But honestly, why does that matter? Creativity isn’t about the right mood. It’s about showing up, cracking on, and getting the job done. If parents can find creative ways to trick their kids into eating their greens, or someone can turn £20 into five days of meals, us creative thinkers can surely summon the energy to work out what to do with a breakfast cereal brand.

Let’s dispel this nonsense about needing perfect conditions to be creative, whatever the condition and mood, brilliance comes to the top. Some of the greatest ideas in history come from bleak times, Shakespeare's plays, were written in the times of the plague. Byron penned his poem Darkness, and Mary Shelley, dreamed up Frankenstein in 1816, following the volcanic eruption of Tambora which took summer in Europe away that year and saw darkness and storms rule the skies - even snowfall in June -  the very definition of bleak.

Creativity thrives on constraints. Deadlines, limited resources, even a bleak Wednesday in January, they are not the enemy, they are the fuel. It’s in these moments that you prove whether you’re a true creative thinker or just a fair-weather thinker who’ll only deliver brilliance when there’s sun and laughter in the air.

If you really need inspiration, get outside your advertising bubble and engage with the real world. Take a walk, eavesdrop on a conversation, visit a supermarket that’s not your own, the world is overflowing with ideas to steal and adapt, evolve and make your own. But don’t forget to wrap up warm, It's miserable out there.

I don’t do New Year's resolutions. I’ve found I don’t need them because I’m probably at my most motivated at the start of any year. It’s a clean slate. A do over. I enjoy the process of ‘starting over’ in the New Year.

I get to drop whatever baggage I’ve accumulated over the past 12 months and just travel light.

I might look back on the previous years’ experience and take what I want from that, but the rest I leave behind. And that goes for both work and life. So, for that reason I don’t find January to be ‘dark days’ at all.

I look forward to seeing what our next creative opportunities will be, what the next great Superbowl ad might be (UK based but I love Super Bowl ads).

Everything is still possible and that’s like one big ol’ 100-watt bulb anytime of the year.

And this is all sounding weirdly optimistic for a realist like me, so before I talk myself into a happy clappy place I can’t back out of, I'll leave it there.

Happy January. PS – I don’t buy the Blue Tuesday BS either, it’s not true.

I know I don’t share this point of view with 99.9% of the world, but I love January. It gives us so many reasons to be optimistic. It’s getting lighter for one. Ok maybe by a minute a day, but who’s counting? But mainly, we can begin to wonder what this year will bring. Who will be the next celebrity lookalike contest? Who will be our next very demure, very mindful characters? Can anyone do a better job than Harry Clark in Traitors? It’s hard to imagine to be honest. But that’s the beauty, we don’t know what’s next.

January gives us all an opportunity to reset our minds. To stop looking back.

From a creative person’s point of view the only benefit of looking back is to understand what has been done in the past, so you can do something completely different. It’s what’s possible that excites us. What hasn’t been done before, now that’s the good bit. So, I find my creative light in the unknown. Because that’s what brings opportunity, and with opportunity comes the chance for original thought. And that’s what I get out of bed for.

What incredible possibilities will AI bring? What wild new media landscape will be available to us that we’ve never seen before? But mainly, of course, what will White Lotus 3 be like without Jeniffer Coolidge. So yeah. January is great. I won’t have anyone tell me otherwise.

And to the 0.1% of the world that agrees with me, I say: Here’s to what’s possible. Here’s to the future.

January’s hitting hard as Blue Monday looms. It’s dark when you wake up, dark when you leave work, and my TikTok is aggressively pushing vitamin D supplements. But when the creative slump creeps in, I’ve found my medicine: SoulCycle.

Yes, it’s got a bit of a cult following (check out the Sounds Like a Cult pod for a full satirical breakdown), but hear me out. The Great Marlborough Street studio, conveniently located in the heart of London’s creative quarter, has an almost magical way of flipping my mood, whether I start or end my day there.

Drenched in affirmations - my personal favourite being “If you complain, you’ll remain. If you praise, you raise.” - it’s part sweat session, part group therapy, with a dash of theatre thrown in for good measure. And somehow, between the halo of candlelight around the instructor and the synchronised whoops from my peers (who, let’s be honest, wouldn’t dream of acting this affable in broad daylight), it manages to shake me out of my creative fog.

It’s a sensory reset. 45 minutes to tune out the noise and tune into yourself as your instructor wraps you in a metaphorical cloak of go-getter positivity, leaving you fired up and creatively recharged.

Love this question! Let me share something that's brightening my winter days – I don't wait for inspiration, instead I use these quiet moments to actively develop my taste. Every shadow and spark becomes a chance to understand what makes great design tick. ✨

Here's where I'm actually finding my creative sparks and building stronger instincts: ????

• Watching shows like 'Succession' with intention at night ????, training myself to understand why certain visual choices hit harder than others.
• Taking quick sketches of interesting signs on my morning coffee run ☕️ – winter light reveals exactly what makes great typography great.
• Using my commute time to design furniture free from limitation ????, each mental iteration refining my sense of what works.
• Actually writing down why I like certain designs ????, forcing myself beyond "that's cool" to really understand my instincts.

What keeps me going is realizing creativity isn't about waiting for perfect light – it's about taking control of winter's darker moments and using them to sharpen your eye, the grey of January is a perfect time to focus on yourself and your taste.  ????​​​​​​​​​

Winter’s creative energy is a cheeky little thing. Summer sprawls lazily with warm breezes, winter smacks you awake with frosty breath and dramatic contrasts. Living on a farm in the northeast USA, I’ve noticed that a year is just long enough for you to push to the back of your mind, just how cold winter can be.

The light in winter is a showstopper—sharp, slanted, and moody. It carves long shadows and gilds everything in a fleeting glow. Summer’s light dances and sparkles, but winter’s light whispers secrets, inviting you to lean in and notice the bare branches and frost covered landscape, stripping away all that is superfluous. The contrast is spectacular.

Even our animals seem to play along. In summer, they’re bold and bustling, but in winter, they’re masters of efficiency—peafowl fluffing their feathers, sheep comically huddled together, chickens and ducks comingling and pigs just hangry. Their well chosen movements are a lesson in doing more with less, every step to find food or feel warmer.

And then there’s the human side: cozying up inside, wearing that favourite warm jacket and silly hat outside. Step out and winter slaps you with a gust of icy wind. That jolt! It’s winter’s way of keeping you on your toes, waking up your senses and sparking ideas.

Winter tests and tempts, nudging you between comfort and adventure, reflection and action. It’s the season of contrasts, it makes you appreciate the world differently, sparking new ways of thinking.

In January, I leave for work in the dark and get home in the dark. Some people might even say I get dressed in the dark. For many, this time of year can feel long and grey, bringing a sense of introspection.

One way I get through days like this is by reading, or more accurately, listening to Audible. For me, it offers a real escape and mental refreshment, letting me step into different worlds and experience different lives. Storytelling, and its connection to culture, has a unique ability to inspire creativity and bring fresh perspectives, even in the darkest months.

Whether fiction or non-fiction, listening to a range of diverse stories shifts my mood and sparks new ideas. It offers a break from the repetitive cycle of winter while opening up new ways of thinking about culture and creativity.

Right now, I’m listening to the utterly brilliant What About Men? by Caitlin Moran, which explores modern masculinity, addressing societal pressures and vulnerabilities while critiquing toxic masculinity. Moran’s insights provide clarity on how creativity can reflect cultural issues and engage with audiences who feel overlooked.

It’s a reminder of how stories, rooted in culture, can inspire, challenge, and brighten even the greyest January days.

I’m lucky enough to live on the edge of London, and yet it feels very rural. Through this I get a proper sense of the seasons, much more so than when I lived in central London. Outside the landscape is covered in frost, the trees frozen white, the fresh cold air, the crisp crunch underfoot, and the silvery pale low winter sun, creating those long-elongated shadows. This chilly seasonal equinox is now behind us – so the nights are slowly getting lighter, giving you a feeling of something new and a sense of lightness and optimism.

We returned to the studio in January to the news that we had won an interesting pitch we presented just before Christmas; we welcomed 3 new young designers to our team who bring fresh ideas and energy to the studio which is always welcome.

I’m looking forward to the spring and working on new projects that are finally coming to fruition with some intriguing brands, after a lot of hard work at the end of last year. There’s lots of exciting news just around the corner for us, both within our creative studio, and the wider business.