Suzy Annetta
Ph. Gavin Green
Stranger #6
Suzy Annetta, founder of Design Anthology
I first met Suzy shortly after moving to Melbourne, over a coffee in Fitzroy. From the very beginning, she made me feel welcome, generously offering her time and attention. It’s the kind of generosity I imagine she received from others along her journey and now pays forward — as a mentor, a thoughtful presence in the design community, and someone who makes time to offer personal advice.
In our conversation, I was struck by her honesty about the challenges she’s faced, the persistence required to build something meaningful, and her belief in design as a tool for cultural understanding and positive change.
Many of the motivations that shaped her path deeply resonated with me — a curiosity for other cultures, a commitment to making them visible and understood, and a belief in the power of shared stories to create connection.
Her journey is not just about success, but about staying grounded in values, even when the path ahead feels uncertain.
How would you introduce yourself?
I think the easiest way is through my work title, as so much of my identity over the last 12 years has been closely tied to the magazine. I’d start by saying I’m the founder of Design Anthology, and I consider myself a design editor and curator—someone who truly loves design.
I’ve also come to feel strongly about my Australian identity. It wasn’t something I thought much about until I moved overseas, but returning in the last four years made me realise how important it is to who I am.
So, in short: I’m an editor and curator, and I have a strong connection to both Asia and Australia.
Your profile describes you as a curator, editor, and storyteller working at the intersection of design, craft, and community, and you’re widely recognized as the founding editor-in-chief of Design Anthology. Could you share the key moments that have shaped your professional journey?
The biggest turning point was simply getting started. When I was younger, I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do. I thought I’d be an architect but quickly realised it wasn’t for me.
A truly defining moment was moving to Japan. Even though I started by teaching English and then worked for a textile company—jobs unrelated to what I do now—it was pivotal for me personally and professionally. Being outside Australia and immersed in a culture so different from my own opened my eyes to opportunities beyond the small world I grew up in, and that perspective shift never went away.
The second key moment was moving to Hong Kong. Although I had studied interior design, I’d never worked in the field in Australia, so Hong Kong was where I had my first real design job, and I loved it. Later, I set up my own studio, which I thought was my ultimate goal, but I realised it wasn’t making me happy. It was a tough period of questioning what I truly wanted, and that led me to start the magazine—a decision that became the most defining moment of my career. Instead of looking for my dream job, I decided to create it.
You mentioned working for a textile company in Japan—how did that come about?
After realising architecture wasn’t for me, I discovered a love for materials, colours, and the more visual, creative side of the built environment. At that time, opportunities in design in Australia were limited, so I studied textiles and completed a diploma in product development, which balanced creativity with business—something I’ve found I need to stay stimulated.
In Japan, I managed to find a role with an American company selling textiles to furniture companies, which gave me my first opportunity to travel for work around Asia. Although I initially imagined moving to Europe like many Australians, I’m grateful I ended up in Asia by accident. I fell in love with the region, and over time, what once felt overwhelming in those bustling cities became natural and familiar. That experience fundamentally shaped who I am today.
What has been the greatest challenge you’ve faced in your career, and how did it shape you?
Starting a business is hard, but running and continuing to run a business is a completely different challenge—one that’s much more difficult. There’s a reason many businesses don’t make it past the first few years. It requires an immense amount of sacrifice. In my case, I didn’t see friends for years, and I didn’t pay myself a salary for a long time. It was really tough and all-consuming.
In the early years, you see growth and progress, and eventually, you reach a point where you can bring in a team, which brings its own challenges. Suddenly, you’re managing people, dealing with finances, HR, legal, and accounting. You start a business because you love what you do, but over time, you end up spending less time on the part you love and more on what’s needed to keep the business running day by day.
Almost twelve years in, it’s still challenging, with periods of growth and contraction, navigating events like COVID, shifting to remote work, and taking on business partners in Singapore. The company has changed, and I’ve changed with it.
The biggest challenge has been finding the energy and passion to keep going. When you work for someone else and feel burned out, you can leave. But when it’s your business, it’s much harder to step away, and you have to ask yourself if you’re still passionate about it. It forces you to learn so much about yourself—how to motivate yourself, how to manage and motivate others, and how to see your team as human beings with their own challenges. You learn that everybody has a bad day, everybody has lives outside of work. And you never really get to switch off. There’s a perception that when you run your own business, you can take holidays whenever you like, but the reality is that you’re never fully able to stop thinking about it.
Let’s talk about Design Anthology. How and why did you start it?
As I mentioned, I had paused the design studio I’d started because I was feeling frustrated and unsure about what to do next—it felt like a midlife crisis. During that six-month break, I had been writing a design blog, which was quite new at the time. It started simply as a personal project, like an online diary, where I collected things I liked and occasionally wrote short texts. This was before Pinterest and definitely before Instagram, so it was really just for me, a way to gather inspiration in one place.
Unexpectedly, the blog grew, and I noticed that many people from big-name design firms around the world were reading and subscribing to it. That was one of the seeds that planted the idea for what would later become Design Anthology.
Around that time, I was frustrated by the lack of design magazines in Hong Kong. Having grown up in Australia, I’d always loved magazines—Vogue Living under David Clark was particularly influential for me, especially in a pre-internet era when magazines were a way to train your eye, stay informed about what was happening globally, and connect with a community passionate about the same things.
I’ve always loved print, and despite growing up in a working-class family, we always had books at home. When I was venting to a friend about the absence of good design magazines in Hong Kong, she said, “Why don’t you start something?” At first, I laughed—it seemed like a crazy idea. But my then-husband was from the publishing world, and with my design background, we started talking seriously about it.
I spent three to four months doing business studies, building a business plan, figuring out what the magazine could be, who it would be for, and how to monetize it. I studied the structure of magazines, even as people around me thought I was crazy for considering it. But we decided to take the leap.
In late 2013, we began working on it, came up with the name, found a graphic designer, and started reaching out to writers. We launched the first issue about six months later, around March 2014.
The magazine was a bit different back then, and over time, we’ve become more editorially focused and confident in what Design Anthology is and what the brand stands for. The design has evolved, but so has our understanding of our mission and audience.
How did the team grow over the years?
At the beginning, we couldn’t afford to pay salaries, so it was just me working full-time, alongside my now ex-husband, who is still a partner in the business and worked part-time on the magazine. We had a freelance graphic designer, and that was our setup for about a year.
After that, we added a part-time editorial person who eventually became full-time and stayed with us for around two years. Through her, we connected with a designer who later joined us, bringing us to three full-time team members.
A turning point came when clients began approaching us to create magazines for them, which happened quite organically. One large project allowed us to bring Phil, the co-founder, on board full-time, making us a team of four.
Over time, our original editor and graphic designer moved on, and Jeremy Jeremy Smart and Simone Schultz, who are still with us today, joined the team about seven or eight years ago. They have since grown into leadership roles as Head of Editorial and Head of Design. I’ve stepped aside to allow them to take ownership in those areas, with them moving into a co-editor-in-chief role and shifting from being just a boss to, in some ways, a mentor.
Why did you choose to move to Asia—particularly Hong Kong—and what led you to return to Australia?
I actually moved to Japan initially because I followed a boy there—who I ended up marrying. We spent three years in Tokyo before moving back to Melbourne, where we got married and bought a house. But I quickly realised I wasn’t ready to settle down. Around that time, the company I had worked for in Japan reached out, asking if I’d return. I loved the idea of going back but wasn’t keen on living in Tokyo again.
While I had originally considered Singapore, the company had opened new offices across Asia, including Hong Kong, and the proximity to factories in Southern China made Hong Kong a practical choice. So we moved there, and it ended up being home for the next 15 years.
I stayed with that company for two years before moving into interior design, working in that field for about four years before launching my own design studio. By then, I had reached the seven-year mark in Hong Kong, which allowed me to apply for permanent residency. This was a turning point, as it meant I no longer needed company sponsorship, giving me the freedom to leave my job and start the magazine.
The last seven years in Hong Kong were spent running Design Anthology, and I eventually moved back to Australia at the end of 2020. I had always known I would return one day, though I was nervous about it because of my earlier experience moving back. But after spending more time with friends and family in Australia, I found myself asking, “Why don’t I live here anymore? It’s so beautiful.”
Around that time, I met people interested in investing in the business to bring the magazine to Australia, setting up a dedicated edition for the Australia and New Zealand market in 2019. I saw this as the perfect opportunity and reason to return.
Then, of course, 2020 happened. I spent that year in Hong Kong, where things were quite different compared to the rest of the world. When a travel bubble briefly opened between Hong Kong and Singapore, I travelled there for a government project, and it was during that time that I managed to secure a one-way flight to Perth. Getting into Australia was a challenge, but I knew if I didn’t make the move then, I might get stuck in Hong Kong forever.
I quarantined in Perth over Christmas and New Year and started 2021 there before finally flying to Melbourne a few days later. I was so grateful. I remember being on that flight, being offered a glass of champagne in business class, and thinking, “Yes!” It had taken a lot of effort to get back, but it was absolutely worth it.
In your profile, you mention that you believe in design’s power to connect and inspire. Could you explain what this means to you?
I believe design is powerful in many ways, often in ways we don’t even notice. The best design blends seamlessly into our lives, and because it functions so well, we sometimes overlook its impact.
Through my work, especially with designers across Asia, I’ve seen firsthand how design can be uplifting and bring people together. One project that stands out was “Emerge”, a showcase of emerging designers from across Southeast Asia, with around 50–60 designers involved. That experience showed me how design can be a source of inspiration and connection, particularly in a world where it’s easy to feel pessimistic about what’s happening around us.
Sometimes I wonder if the world is actually worse now or if we’re simply more aware of everything because of constant news access on our phones. It’s easy to get caught up in the bad news, but when I see great design—especially from Asia—it restores my sense of hope. It reminds me that there are intelligent, thoughtful people out there who genuinely care, who are looking at the world and creating practical solutions, not just for themselves but for the greater good.
That’s why I believe design has the power to find solutions that can make the world a better place. It can be a catalyst for important conversations and moments of connection, and for me, that’s incredibly inspiring.
How do you pursue your research, and what is your approach to talent scouting designers?
There isn’t just one way, and it’s evolved over the past 11–12 years. Now that we have a fairly international network of writers and photographers contributing to the magazine, they often keep an eye on what’s happening in their cities and countries, reaching out to let us know and pitching stories. That’s one way.
Designers also reach out to us directly, knowing the magazine, and sometimes we discover talent through Instagram. Conversations play a big role too. We travel regularly, attend many design festivals, and are always actively looking to meet new people and find new talent—we don’t just wait for them to come to us.
I’m also fortunate to be friends with many designers who, as they progress in their careers, begin hiring people or teaching, and they often recommend their students or colleagues to us. We actively connect with design schools across the region to spot emerging talent straight out of school.
It’s a multifaceted approach, and as the magazine has grown and our reputation has strengthened, it has become more and more sophisticated.
Do you believe there are still “places” that can serve as effective stages for designers to gain recognition? What are those places now?
That’s a great question, especially considering the cities you’ve lived in (Editor’s note: referring to Milan). Everyone in our industry knows how important Milan is — arguably still the most significant international event for design. But it’s definitely changing. While Milan remains crucial, other fairs and events are growing in their own countries as alternatives. Milan has become huge and incredibly successful, but with that success comes high costs and oversaturation. The spotlight has also shifted somewhat, with fashion brands, car companies, and tech firms stealing attention away from what was originally the Italian furniture industry.
I believe Milan is still incredibly important, but it’s becoming harder for designers to get noticed or even afford to attend or exhibit there.
Events like 3 Days of Design in Copenhagen are gaining popularity, though I worry it might eventually become a smaller version of Milan—very successful but with similar challenges.
Another concern is that both of these events are very Europe-focused. Given my focus on Asia, I’d love to see a regional event in Asia grow to become equally important on the international calendar. Many cities have their own design weeks that are gaining significance year by year. For example, Tokyo’s Designart is an incredible event where I’ve discovered many new designers.
I haven’t been to Bangkok Design Week in a few years, so I’m unsure if it’s still as strong as it used to be. However, the emerging design showcase I mentioned earlier has provided a valuable platform for Southeast Asian talents over the past few years, and I hope it continues.
Overall, there are still opportunities, but I’d love to see an event rooted in Asia rise to the same level of importance as Milan.
Your work is rooted in dialogue and conversation. What do you appreciate about this approach, and could you share one of the best conversations you’ve had and what it left you with?
I learned quite early on, especially while living in Japan, that experiencing another culture allows you to see the world in a different way. It makes you realize that your own culture — how you grew up — isn’t the only way or necessarily the best way, it’s just one of many ways. There’s something very magical in that understanding.
Despite the many unique cities and cultures I’ve encountered, at our core we are all human with the same fundamental needs and desires — to love and be loved, to express ourselves, and to connect with family and friends. Through travel and especially through the magazine, I’ve had the chance to engage in meaningful dialogues with people, which has taught me so much about their cultures and countries.
I believe dialogue is crucial because it helps us move beyond assumptions and judgments. We don’t always know what people are experiencing in their personal lives or what motivates their actions — the only way to really understand is through conversation. This was one of my main motivations for starting the magazine.
Thinking back to Milan, that event was important because it brought together a global design community. Europe’s geography makes travel easier, so people converge there every year and find a sense of belonging. When you realize you’re not alone, it’s easier to feel supported. Speaking to others allows you to feel heard and understood, and it opens opportunities to share solutions.
I’ve spent a lot of time in Indonesia, a place that’s very special in many ways. In countries facing political and economic hardships, I’ve seen communities bring out their best qualities. The sense of support and togetherness in Indonesia is something I’ve rarely experienced elsewhere.
One conversation that stands out was with a young architect named Danny Wicaksono, who has since become a dear friend. I’m actually moderating a talk with him next month in Bali for an architectural exhibition I’m curating. We met over coffee, and he shared much of what I now understand about Indonesian architecture. It would have been easy to dismiss him as young or inexperienced, but he took the time and effort to talk with me, and that openness was a very special gift. That conversation remains a cherished memory for me.
What advice would you give to someone who would like to start a project similar to yours?
I would tell them to go for it. Ignore everything I just said about how hard it is and just do it—but maybe start digitally, and be very financially conservative at first. I’d also say: don’t put your own money in if you can avoid it! (laughs)
I think many creative people find so much more joy in a project when they’re working with another creative person. There’s an energy that happens when two or more people are bouncing ideas around, and that definitely makes things easier. Starting a business, no matter the industry, can be very lonely if you do it on your own.
It’s so important to find other people who are in similar situations—other entrepreneurs, even in different industries—so you have a network you can talk to. Sometimes the best and worst things can happen on the same day, and I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s like a rollercoaster. It’s a bit like having a kid, in a different way, and only those who run a business can fully understand that. Having a network that can support you makes all the difference.
Is there a project you still dream of realizing—something that, for some reason, hasn’t yet taken shape?
Yes, there are a couple! I never have a lack of ideas—it’s the time, energy, and resources to bring them to life that I’m short on.
We’ve talked about organising a big design conference in Asia. We actually started working on something like that in 2024 but had to put it on hold, so it’s still something we’re yet to do. We’re now looking at possibly making it happen next year, and I’m quite excited about it. I think we could put on a really great event, and it’s something I’d truly love to bring to life.
That’s probably the only project I can talk about out loud for now—there are always other things I’d love to do. I don’t know if it’s my brain or just my personality, but I’m interested in so many different things, and the ideas are never the problem.
I’ll keep you posted!
Could you name a person who inspires you or whom you admire?
There is someone who comes to mind. She’s unofficially been a mentor to me, though we’ve never really labeled our relationship that way. She’s the head of a marketing, PR, and communications agency in Hong Kong.
I actually met her before I started the magazine, through one of the design firms I worked for. Looking back, it’s funny how it happened—I met someone who told me, “You have to meet Cathy Feliciano Chon ,” and I thought, “Okay, maybe once I finish my job.” When we finally met, there wasn’t any clear reason for us to connect work-wise, but she was on my radar from that moment.
When I was planning to start the magazine, I reached out to her for advice, and she very generously gave it. She’s the kind of woman who always speaks the truth, even when it’s hard to hear, and she’s almost always spot on in how she sees things.
I’ve always admired how she conducts herself professionally. She has three children, runs a business, is married, and has a very busy, full life, yet she’s been incredibly generous with her time, advice, and insight. She’s quite an incredible woman and has been a real cheerleader for me, always ready with encouragement and wise advice.
“Dear Cathy
Your strength and integrity is an inspiration, and I truly appreciate how generous you’ve been with your time over years - and I know it’s not just been with me.
My journey with Design Anthology has been made more meaningful with your sage advice. You are a role model for women the world over.”
