THE EDIT STUDIOS

The woman behind the edit.

I HAVE OPINIONS.

SOME OF THEM ARE BILLABLE.

I’m Anna Luna, founder and creative director of The Edit Studios.

Former fashion photographer. Designer. Professional noticer of things nobody asked me to notice.

I spent years making images for a living, then somehow ended up building entire businesses around the same problem:

Why does this almost look right?

Now I design websites, brands and campaigns for people who care about the answer.

I like beautiful things. Strong women. Expensive-looking typography. Businesses with a personality. Interiors I have no practical reason to be thinking about at 11:40 on a Tuesday.

I dislike bad kerning, unnecessary meetings and anything described as “luxury” simply because somebody made it beige.

MARBELLA / WORLDWIDE
Impeccable taste. Questionable behaviour.

BEFORE EVERYONE BECAME A CREATIVE DIRECTOR

I HAD A CAMERA,

A VERY LOW TOLERANCE FOR

UGLY

AND FAR TOO

MANY OPINIONS.

I spent years working as a fashion photographer and designer.

Which sounds glamorous until you remember that models have moods, crews need lunch and the sun has absolutely no respect for the production schedule.

Still, it taught me how to look.

The wrong crop.
The wrong shoe.
The hand doing something deeply unfortunate.
The stylist adding one more accessory because apparently we’ve learnt nothing.
A perfectly good photograph being murdered by typography.

Tiny decisions. Enormous consequences.

Fashion taught me that something can cost a fortune and still look cheap.

A useful lesson, as it turns out.

Eventually I put the camera down.

Mostly because pixels are more obedient than people.

But I never stopped noticing things.

I still know when an image belongs to a different woman than the copy. When a business is charging Marbella prices with a website that looks like she won it in a raffle. When everything is technically correct and yet somehow...

No.

That instinct followed me into design, branding, websites, AI and every other visual rabbit hole I’ve willingly disappeared into.

The tools changed.

The eye, fortunately for everyone involved, did not.

The camera went. The opinions stayed.

The camera went. The opinions stayed.

PROFESSIONALLY JUDGEMENTAL

I DON’T REALLY SEE

A WEBSITE.

I see the photograph that cost a fortune and is somehow making the business look cheaper.

The logo that needs to sit down.

The button nobody can find.

The headline, testimonial, photograph and newsletter form all screaming for attention like Christmas with my family.

The woman carrying a €4,000 handbag while sending clients to a website that appears to have been built during a power cut.

I notice these things.

It’s probably why I’m enjoying being back in a profession where my judgemental nature is considered a skill.

Because a website can technically have everything it needs and still feel wrong.

The colours are fine.
The photos are fine.
The logo is fine.
Everything is very... fine.

And somehow she’s giving dentist.

That is the part I care about.

What needs to go. What needs to be enormous. What needs to shut up. What needs better lighting. Whether the photograph and the copy appear to know each other socially. Whether the whole thing feels like the business you say you have, or the business you had three reinventions ago.

I don’t want to add more design.

I want to make the right decisions.

You’re not paying me because websites are terribly difficult to make.

You’re paying me because taste is.


CURRENTLY IN MY HEAD

…none of this is technically web design.

An old Céline campaign.

A peacock dressed like she got the house, the lawyer and custody of the diamonds.

The lobby of a hotel I have never stayed in.

A 1970s Italian chair that costs approximately the same as a small used car.

The typography on a perfume box.

A woman in oversized sunglasses outside a restaurant who has somehow communicated an entire brand strategy without saying a word.

A marble bathroom I have absolutely no intention of renovating.

A handbag I do not need.

A colour combination I saw on somebody’s coat six months ago and have apparently been storing for professional reasons.

This is more or less how my brain works.

I collect references constantly. Fashion, interiors, photography, architecture, packaging, film, women, restaurants, furniture, menus, album covers, hotel stationery, questionable purchases.

Very little of it begins with:

“Let’s look at some web design inspiration.”

Thank God.

Because if I only looked at websites when designing websites, eventually everything would look like websites.

And the internet already has enough of those.

Are we soulmates?

Probably, if…

You care what your business looks like.

You understand that “it works” and “I want it” are two very different standards.

You want somebody with an opinion, not somebody who will obediently make the logo bigger because there is technically still room.

You notice beautiful things.

You want your business to look like the amount of money you are asking people to spend with you.

You would rather do it properly once than spend the next two years apologising for your website.

Probably not, if…

The cheapest quote wins.

You want seventeen concepts “just to see.”

You believe luxury is beige, a serif font and a photograph of a woman smiling while holding a coffee.

You would like to personally art-direct every six pixels.

You need a website. Any website. Preferably by Friday and preferably for €200.

In which case, genuinely, we are not soulmates.

There is a Fiverr designer out there for you.

Possibly a Kevin.

He may include SEO.

I’m not competing with Kevin.

Cheaper exists. So do polyester suits.

BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY

BE YOUR OWN DADDY.

A PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY

Make your own money.
Buy your own champagne.
Build something nobody can take away from you.

That’s part of what The Edit Studios is about.
Building businesses that look serious, feel valuable and give the woman behind them more room to make her own decisions.

Fuck-you money, but with better typography.

BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY BE YOUR OWN DADDY

Apparently, I am
the art department.

SO, WHY ME?

I’m not only a web designer.

That would actually be much easier.

I started in graphic design. Spent years shooting fashion. Worked with branding, styling, imagery and businesses long before AI arrived and gave everyone access to a moodboard and dangerous levels of confidence.

Now I bring all of it into the same room.

The brand.
The words.
The website.
The photographs.
The campaign.
The tiny detail nobody thinks matters until somebody gets it wrong.

So when I look at your business, I’m not waiting for somebody else to tell me what the visual direction should be.

I can see when the typography is fighting the photography.

When the copy sounds considerably cheaper than the offer.

When your website says “established business” but your imagery says “first afternoon on Canva.”

When you need another image.

And when, for the love of God, you do not.

I use proper design tools when proper design tools are the answer.

I use AI when AI earns its keep.

I spent enough years behind a camera to know that generating an attractive woman with good cheekbones is not the same thing as art direction.

And I’ve been in business long enough to know that beautiful is lovely.

Beautiful that sells is lovelier.

That is why The Edit Studios can build more than the website.

I can build the world around it.

You’re not paying me for my software.

You’re paying for the decisions I make with it.

Canva is €12 a month.
Vogue still employs an art department.

NOT READY TO HAND OVER THE PASSWORDS?

Fair. Start with your email address. Considerably less legally complicated.

I send occasional notes from The Edit Studios about websites, branding, AI, things I’ve decided are ugly, things I’ve decided are excellent, and whatever else has become professionally relevant before lunch.

No daily emails.

I have work to do.

Expect design opinions, things I’m making, things I probably shouldn’t say publicly, and the occasional useful idea hidden amongst the evidence.