Looking back, I think the signs were there long before I ever called myself a print designer. It was February 2014, during my postgraduate studies. My college took us on an educational trip to Italy and Paris — the kind of trip every design student dreams of. In Paris, we were taken to visit Première Vision, one of the biggest textile trade shows in the world. That's one afternoon I still think about often. Première Vision was massive — fashion, art, textiles, fabrics, trims, all under one roof. We had one day to see it, and even then, we only managed to get through about half of it. While my classmates moved through fabrics, trims, and embroidery sections, I kept finding my way back to one part of the show, again and again — the prints. I wasn't thinking about it as a career decision at the time. I just knew I didn't want to leave that section. Designers sat at their booths with their fabric swatches and printed collections laid out, some even printed onto paper to showcase the work — and I was completely captivated by how they presented it. The colour, the detail, the craft behind every repeat. I went from stall to stall, and somewhere in that excitement, I started collecting visiting cards from print brands and studios — names I didn't recognise, whose work I didn't yet fully understand the significance of. I just knew I wanted to hold onto them. Looking back, it's funny how little space prints actually had in my design education up to that point. We'd had one semester that touched on it, but it leaned heavily toward embroidery rather than prints, guided by a mentor whose own strength was embroidery. I didn't even know "surface pattern design" existed as its own field — a whole discipline built around exactly what I'd been drawn to that day in Paris. At the time, it felt like nothing more than genuine curiosity. I had no idea that it would take one more moment to actually set things in motion — on the first day of my first design job, when my boss asked if I knew how to create a scarf print on Photoshop. I said yes. And that's really where it began. I still have those visiting cards today — Paper & Cloth Design Studio, Vooprint, Selvedge, Suzie-Q, Indigo Salon, Dishes, Minakani, and a few others whose names meant nothing to me back then. And tucked among them, one handwritten card that simply says, "I love prints!" I don't even remember which stall gave it to me. But looking at it now, more than a decade later, running a print studio of my own, it almost feels like it was written for me to find. I still think about that version of myself sometimes — collecting cards she didn't know the value of yet, standing exactly where she needed to be, without realising it. Maybe the signs really were always there. — Mandeep

Hi, I'm Mandeep, the person behind Printsopedia. I didn't start out in textiles. My first degree was in management, and for a while I thought that was going to be my path. But somewhere along the way, I found myself drawn to design instead — to color, pattern, and the quiet storytelling that happens on fabric before it ever becomes a garment. So I went back to study it properly, first exploring fashion design, and then completing my postgraduate degree in fashion design. That decision took me to my first real design home: six and a half years working closely with a menswear brand, creating prints and being part of everything from client fittings to production coordination. It was an intense, hands-on education — the kind you can only get by being in the room while a collection comes together. Along the way, I also got to work behind the scenes on projects with GQ, Amazon Fashion Week, and Woolmark, which only deepened my love for this craft. Eventually, I knew I wanted to build something of my own. Something that let me focus on what I love most: creating prints that carry a story, not just a pattern. So I stepped away from full-time employment and started designing independently — and for the past four and a half years, that's exactly what I've been doing. That journey has led me here, to Printsopedia. What Printsopedia is about- Printsopedia is a textile print design studio built around one belief: every print should have a reason to exist. Not just a repeat that fills space, but something inspired — by a flower I noticed on a trip, a bird I couldn't stop sketching, a memory of a place, a piece of culture I wanted to translate into fabric. I work with fashion brands who want prints that feel exclusive to them — created around their mood, their direction, their story — rather than pulled from a generic library. That's the heart of what I offer: custom, story-driven prints and collections for fashion brands, wherever in the world they're based. Why "Printsopedia" The name comes from prints + encyclopedia. When I first imagined it, I pictured a place that held prints in many different handwritings — the way an encyclopedia holds many different entries, each distinct. As a designer, I've always had a versatile hand — I can move between styles, from delicate botanical linework to bold graphic motifs to loose, painterly marks. Printsopedia is a founder-led studio, but the name reflects that range: one hand, many handwritings. What you'll find on this blog This space is where I'll be sharing the things that don't always make it onto a portfolio page — how a print actually comes together from a first spark of inspiration to a finished repeat, the stories behind specific patterns, and a behind-the-scenes look at what it's like building an independent design studio from the ground up. If you're a brand looking for prints with intention, or just someone who loves textiles as much as I do, I'm glad you're here. More soon. — Mandeep

People often ask me what it actually looks like when I design a print for a brand. Most people imagine it begins with a sketch and ends with a beautiful pattern. But every print has a journey behind it- a process of observation, storytelling, experimentation, and refinement before it is ready to live on fabric. Here's what that process looks like, from the very first spark to the finished file. 1. The spark Every print starts somewhere outside the studio, not inside it. It could be a flower I noticed on a walk, a bird I couldn't stop watching, a memory from a trip, or a piece of culture that stayed with me long after I encountered it. I don't design from nothing — I design from something I've felt or seen and wanted to hold onto. 2. The brief When I'm working with a brand, this is where their voice enters the process. They come to me with a mood, a direction, sometimes just a feeling they want the collection to carry — and my job is to translate that into something visual. This is the exclusivity part of what I offer: the print isn't pulled from an existing library, it's built specifically around their story. 3. The making This is where the real work happens — and where most of the time goes. I sketch, I experiment, I build out the motifs by hand before anything becomes digital. Then comes the part that takes real patience: turning individual motifs into a seamless, repeatable print. It has to flow endlessly, with no visible seams or awkward gaps, no matter how it's placed on a garment. Alongside that, I work through colorways — because the right print in the wrong colors can completely change how it feels. 4. The refine Nothing is final on the first try. I go back, adjust scale, tweak spacing, reconsider a colorway that looked right on screen but not quite right on fabric. This stage is slower than people expect, but it's what separates a print that just looks nice from one that actually works across a full collection. 5. The reveal And then — the moment I love most — the print is ready. Whether it becomes a co-ord set, a placement print with a border, or part of a larger collection, this is where all that early inspiration finally becomes something a brand can put into the world. That's the honest version of how a print is born — part instinct, part patience, and always rooted in a story before it's ever rooted in a repeat. — Mandeep