Sarah Melrose
Milk
The joys of lego, realising what’s off the pasteboard is just as important as whats on it and when to say no to work that doesnt match your values.
Sarah is Director and Executive Creative Director at Milk in Auckland
LEGO. It was just so intuitive to use and so great at sparking the imagination. I’ve always loved the balance between form, function and creativity. Play and making things were a huge part of my childhood, especially as we obviously had no electronic devices back then. I’ve been reading a lot recently about all the benefits of play and imagination on critical thinking, problem-solving and collaboration, and I think it’s so important to start developing that sort of thinking at an early age. That love of creative play continued through school — especially in photography. We’d spend hours in the darkroom, and, because you didn’t know what you were going to get, there was an incentive to be experimental, to try things out, to play.
:quality(82)/media/legoplay.jpg)
I do. While the outcome is important, especially when you have real clients with real deadlines, I don’t think there’s enough play involved in getting there. I often find I have to try to unteach younger designers. I learned this from Jef Wong, executive creative director of Designworks. One memory that sticks out was when I was presenting some work, refined and ready, and he casually asked to see what was off to the side of my pasteboard — the bits I hadn’t thought were good enough. That caught me off-guard, but it taught me an invaluable lesson : there is often more value in the experimental stuff than you realise. Ideas are everywhere, and sometimes someone else will see the potential in something you’ve overlooked.
It’s a philosophy I carry with me to this day, and something I encourage at Milk. Ideas reach their full potential far more easily when they’re built upon collaboratively, and the process itself is richer when we embrace vulnerability and play.
My path to studying design wasn’t straightforward at all. I planned to attend Ilam School of Fine Arts in Christchurch, where I had been awarded a scholarship for design and photography. However, due to family reasons I decided to stay in Auckland. It was a last-minute decision, and I ended up applying to Unitec instead. At the time, the Bachelor of Communications degree was a four-year programme and the first year was very much a foundational exploration of the arts — painting, design, film studies and sculpture.
Early in my career, I questioned whether I’d wasted valuable time by having such a broad start. But now, I look back and see the value. It wasn’t so much the technical skills — I was never the strongest painter or illustrator — but the approach to creativity, art and design stuck with me.
Ian Robertson: he was madly passionate about typography and its ability to tell stories and communicate meaning. He also adored grids, and therefore so did we. He taught us so much, introducing us to the greats — Paula Scher, Jan Tschichold, Josef Müller-Brockmann and Massimo Vignelli — and his enthusiasm for typography left a lasting impression on me. Also, Anna Miles: she taught a film studies class, and her perspective was transformative. She opened my eyes to the depth and layers within creative works, particularly in film, encouraging us to unpack and analyse what we saw.
She also introduced me to Malcolm Gladwell and The New Yorker, and I became an instant subscriber. Her influence extended beyond film, inspiring me to think about creativity in new and nuanced ways.
I’ve always had a bit of imposter syndrome, so I think grades are a good way to add some reassurance and make you feel better about where you’re at. But I think how you ultimately stand out is by wanting to learn and having a great attitude. I know from having a small team that it takes only one person with a bad attitude, and it can spread quickly!
I wasn’t a natural networker, and I probably stayed under the radar too much. I had no grand plans to meet studios or line up a job after graduation. My outlook was far more bohemian — very much an art school vibe. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t passionate about design or creative work, though. A good friend worked at Atomic Coffee, and I’d often take on odd design jobs for them. Another friend had started Ruby Clothing, and a fellow student and I would do all their photography and design ads for Pavement magazine. Through a part-time job, I was also connected with the renowned architects Cook, Hitchcock & Sargisson and ended up creating a brand for them — a project I’m still incredibly proud of. At my final end-of-year exhibition, I was offered a job by Fraser Gardyne.
Looking back, it would’ve been the sensible thing to take. Instead, I took a year off to travel to Europe. When I eventually ended up in London, finding a design job with only a year-long visa was challenging. I worked on a few projects, including the rebrands of Brownies and Girl Scouts (recently rebranded again by Collins) — huge undertakings where I was just a small cog in the wheel. I learned a lot, though, especially the fundamentals, spending time on logo development and brand implementation across different applications.
It’s good to learn the basics on a big brand like that. As a designer, it helps to learn as much as you can about all the different steps: understanding artwork preparation, understanding packaging, understanding retouching. When you move up, you’ll come equipped with a foundational understanding of what the journey should look like. Even on that logo work, I learned a ton of things I still apply today. I believe you learn something in every job. I could never have stayed there forever, but I learned heaps — and then when you can’t grow anymore, it’s time to leave.
:quality(82)/media/girl.avif)
Before leaving the UK, I reached out to a creative recruitment agency, who helped connect me to my first opportunity in New Zealand. It was at a small creative studio with great people, incredible culture, but it leaned more towards the advertising and communications world than pure design, so I didn’t stay long. I’m not one to job-hop (eight years at Designworks, a similar stretch at Milk, and still going strong!), but I believe if something truly isn’t the right fit, and you’ve done all you can to make it work, you need to move on. That said, I met some incredibly talented people, some of whom I’ve stayed friends with.
It felt like a game-changer because I was now at a big brand agency. Grenville Main, the founder, was incredibly inspiring, and I worked alongside Phil Dunstan-Brown, Charlie Ward and Stephen Maskell. They worked with major government departments and high-profile clients across both their Auckland and Wellington offices.
While the people in the Auckland studio were talented, the environment itself wasn’t that collaborative. It almost felt like we were encouraged to create our own work in private and then try to outdo each other. That aspect didn’t make for a particularly fun experience, but I did learn from it. I now try to always foster an environment that’s more collaborative, more vulnerable and less ego-driven. I stayed at DNA for two years, and it did help me to start believing in myself. We had won several Best Awards and we had some big clients (BNZ being one of them), so I got to attend numerous meetings and gain an understanding of how full rollouts happen.
I then emailed Jef Wong, at Designworks and asked if I could come in for an interview, even though they weren’t actively hiring at the time. Years later, Jef told me that when I first came in my portfolio wasn’t particularly extensive or refined, but the way I spoke about my work — the ideas, the thinking, the intent — showed him I had potential.
:quality(82)/media/bananas.jpg)
:quality(82)/media/fishy.jpg)
We still do. The last three people we’ve hired have been graduates, and, while their portfolios were still developing, we saw something in them. Now they’re creating work that’s both idea-led and well crafted. What we focus on is giving people opportunities and the support to grow into the kind of designer they want to be. If someone brings the right attitude, curiosity, and a spark of raw talent, we can help them build the skills and confidence to thrive. I really enjoy teaching them, watching them grow, and seeing them go on to do great things. That’s the thing I got from Jef: he always treated us like family and just wanted the best for us.
Yes, but in a more holistic way. Awards are a great way to celebrate the creativity within the community, and they help keep us inspired and driven. But ultimately it’s always about the client and what they need. That said, winning a Purple Pin for Blunt [umbrellas] at the Best Awards in 2023 felt pretty incredible. It was a two-year project that involved every member of our team, and it felt great to do justice to such a brilliantly human-centred piece of design. Receiving Best in Class at the Australian AGDA Awards in 2024 was equally special, reinforcing just how world-class New Zealand design really is. For me, awards represent recognition for our clients and a celebration of the team. They create moments of connection and pride, which always feels good.
For students, receiving a Best Award while at university can be hugely encouraging and can open doors. At Milk, we mentor students through the Designers Institute of NZ, and it’s incredibly inspiring and rewarding to help them transition from a uni mindset to a studio mindset. Often this involves refining portfolios, offering advice on how to present projects, and connecting them with studios we think they’d align with. It really highlights the power of a connected design community. None of my closest friends are designers, so having a design community is crucial — just being able to shoot the breeze and talk design is invaluable. I’ve also had the opportunity to help grow the mentorship programme, work with the Student Council, and champion women in design. For the first time we had an equal number of female judges for Best Awards, which was a significant milestone.
:quality(82)/media/bluntyellow.jpg)
:quality(82)/media/bluntstand.jpg)
After eight years at Designworks, I think I was genuinely burnt out. When I told Jef I was leaving because things felt overwhelmingly busy, he just smiled and said, ‘Sarah, that’s your personality — it’ll follow you wherever you go.’ Of course, he was absolutely right, because I’m still the same today!
Designworks was a place of big creative talent, sharp strategic thinkers, and constant opportunity. But I knew I just needed a change. So I got back in touch with the creative recruiter, and they introduced me to Milk. It turned out to be one of those sliding doors moments: their design director was heading off to a new agency, and suddenly there I was, joining Milk. Culturally, Milk felt fantastic straight away, but creatively it wasn’t quite the brand-focused studio I’d imagined. Instead, it was very packaging- and comms-focused. But being smaller it ended up being perfect for where my life was at: my daughter had just started school, and they fully supported shorter days and flexi-hours. Small things like that make a huge difference. Instead of feeling disappointed, I realised this was my chance to build something new. I’d always passionately believed that great design should start with clear, thoughtful brand strategy and a strong creative idea.
So I put my hand up, leaned into what I loved, and shifted the studio’s approach to be brand-led and idea-first. Since then, Milk has grown and grown, and it’s been hugely rewarding. Ben Reid, the owner, has always been brilliant at packaging — he still is — but he has also become phenomenal at strategy and business because he’s genuinely curious and loves to learn. We’ve grown together, really, and that’s been pretty amazing. For me, the lesson is that if something in your role doesn’t feel quite right or match your expectations, don’t just bail right away. Instead, recognise what opportunities might exist for change, find ways to add value, and shape things your way, so you can grow into a role that truly fits your passions.
:quality(82)/media/maxtype.jpg)
:quality(82)/media/beebee.jpg)
When I started, I was pretty fresh from Designworks and was really evangelical about their way of thinking. It was so much a part of my identity that I was known as ‘Sarah from Designworks’! I’d talk a lot about it to my co-worker Hos [Anthony Hos], who had only done a little bit of work at another in-house job before joining Milk. Soon after, Hos actually left Milk and went to Designworks for two years. He learned heaps, came back to Milk — and now Ben, Hos and I all own the company together. It has all come full circle.
Milk turned 20 this year, and Ben still has that start-up mentality, which is great, because it keeps that hunger and energy alive. The balance between the three of us works really well. I’m not driven by money — I’m creative and intuitive — and those guys are far more business-minded, so it works. Balance is huge, as is positive tension. Every brand needs this positive tension to prevent it from becoming dull, just like in a good relationship.
I’m very values-based and purpose-led, so it matters a lot who I collaborate with. For example, when we first began conversations with Blunt, they liked our design work, but it was equally important to them that we shared similar values. I loved that, and totally agreed! If you’re going to invest a year or two in a project, you want to partner with people you genuinely like and who share your vision and values.
You can be the world’s greatest designer, but it’ll be a deal-breaker if you’re tough to work with. A big part of the job is to just be helpful: as a young designer, think ‘What could I do to help in this situation?’ It’s important to build strong relationships, too. The best work is done when you’ve got a really tight bond with the client or a team member. That means you can actually push each other to create the best work possible.
Yes, definitely. At a past agency, we had a project with Sky City related to the casino, and right from the start I said ‘I’m not comfortable working on that.’ For me, it’s important to take on projects that genuinely add something positive or beneficial to the world. I think you’ve got to have standards. Personally, I don’t want to put my energy into anything that could negatively impact people. That’s just not who I am.
I think there are loads of female designers out there who are studying. There are many women at the junior and intermediate levels, but they don’t seem to get into leadership roles. Agencies have to actively put women in leadership roles, and actively decide to bring women into every meeting. If they don’t do this, it won’t change. Women think differently, and they bring a fresh, more empathetic perspective to things. What Design Assembly is doing with the Women in Design conference is so important. I think we need to have more open conversations around it, rather than just expecting it to correct itself.
We’re doing a skincare brand at the moment, and the main reason the client went with us was because we have a female at the table. At Milk, we place emphasis on diversity in a team: a mix of age, talent and gender. I’m deeply committed to the progress for women in design, but there’s so much more to be done. I think we still need to implement policies that support work – life balance and flexibility: without these, it’s hard for women to thrive in roles that often demand more than a typical 9‑to‑5. Beyond that, mentorship programmes, attending and hosting events, and generally keeping the conversation alive are all key. Change happens when it’s a priority, not an afterthought.
Plenty of luck, but you also have to put yourself out there for the luck to find you. My path definitely hasn’t been traditional; it’s been slower, less linear, and I’ve worked really hard along the way. But meeting the right people at the right time has played a huge role. For example, I was lucky to meet Marshall Cook — one of New Zealand’s most respected architects — and his wife Prue, who owned Aalto Paint. Connections like these, as well as working with friends who had started brands like Ruby Clothing, introduced me to a creative and culturally rich world that was entirely new to me. I feel very fortunate for that.
:quality(82)/media/terrace.jpg)
:quality(82)/media/majormajor.jpg)
Honestly, I’m still deciding. At the studio, it’s proving useful for quick conceptual visuals, packaging mock-ups, and desk research. But as a creative, I can’t ignore the trade-off: faster outputs mean less breathing space for genuine reflection and deep creative thinking. I keep coming back to the old adage ‘There’s no such thing as a free lunch.’ AI feels effortless and accessible, but my gut tells me there’s a hidden price we’ll end up paying, particularly around creativity, critical thinking, and authentic human connection — the very foundations of design.
I’m also just so fascinated by people, the human condition: who we are, the way we act, the connections we have to other people and objects and spaces and experiences, what makes us tick, etc.
Perhaps if AI can be used in a way where it actually frees us up — giving us more time to reflect, more time to connect with people, more time to challenge ourselves — then it could be a friend. But if the sole purpose is just to drive productivity and work even faster, I’m not so sure!
I’m personally avoiding thinking about 10 years’ time because I’m a bit in denial! But at Milk we definitely have a two-year plan. We’ve been doing a lot of work in Australia, so we would love to establish a satellite office there soon, have some people on the ground, and keep growing our talent and digital offering.
And personally, I want to go slower and enjoy and learn from the moment more. See more films, visit more exhibitions, have more conversations — in person. Debate the big ideas in ways that make me think. And just keep playing, keep creating.
:quality(82)/media/larry.jpg)
:quality(82)/media/asona.jpg)
:quality(82)/media/honeysticks.jpg)