Named after a wind

Garbí is the southwest wind that comes off the Mediterranean and moves through Barcelona every afternoon. Warm, directional, dependable. It arrives, and things shift — the heat breaks, the sails fill, the city exhales. People here have known it by name for centuries.

We named the studio after it on purpose.

A name should carry an idea, not just be a domain that happened to be available. Most studio names are either someone's surname or a Latin word pulled for how it sounds. Garbí gave us something better: one word for the thing we actually do. We move brands that have stopped moving. We give companies direction when their presence has gone still. The metaphor isn't decoration sitting on top of the work — it's the clearest description of the work we could find.

It also keeps us honest about where we're from. This is a Barcelona studio, shaped by a city that takes design seriously and a coastline that's been moving things — goods, ideas, people — for a very long time. The name says all of that without a paragraph of explanation. Someone who knows the wind understands the studio before we've made our case.

And it sets a standard we have to live up to. If you name yourself after movement, your work had better move something. It's a useful pressure. Every project gets measured against a simple question: did this actually shift the client forward, or did it just look good in a case study?

We use the wind idea once, and then we get to work — the same way we use our accent color, the same way we write. State the thing clearly, then let it carry quietly underneath everything else.

That's the studio. Named after a wind, built to move things forward.