I'm just a mama raising a beautifully neuro-spicy crew while juggling creativity, business, and the everyday chaos that keeps life interesting. This blog is where I spill the tea on motherhood, making things, and finding sparks of joy in the messy. Grab your drink and settle in, I'm so glad you're here.
How does a surface pattern designer choose color palettes? Here’s the thoughtful process behind building balanced, cohesive color palettes for pattern collections… from observation to final refinement.
Last fall I took a walk right after school drop-off.
It was one of those October mornings where everything outside looked like it had been arranged by someone with a very good eye. The light was doing something unusual… that particular fall gold that sits different than summer. The grasses along the path were faded to the most interesting shade of pale straw. The seed heads catching the light. And behind it all, this quiet blue sky that had no business being as beautiful as it was.
I took a photo before I even thought about it.
That photo became the palette for an entire collection.
This is how it usually starts for me… not with a trend forecast or a carefully curated mood board. Just something I noticed, couldn’t leave alone, and eventually followed all the way into a finished set of patterns.
Color is usually the first thing people notice in a pattern. Before anyone studies the motifs or the repeat structure, the eye registers the palette. It sets the mood immediately… telling you whether the design feels calm, playful, nostalgic, earthy, or bold.
But here’s the thing: color is rarely the first decision I make when I’m designing. More often the palette reveals itself gradually as the design develops. Which, if you’ve ever worked on a collection, you know is equal parts magical and completely maddening.
Most of the color palettes I build begin with something I notice in real life. Sometimes it’s a walk outside. Sometimes it’s as simple as noticing the way colors sit next to each other in an ordinary moment.
A row of vegetables at the grocery store. The muted greens and soft browns of a morning walk. Flowers growing along the sidewalk at pickup. Is it just me… or do color combinations exist everywhere once you start actually paying attention? Those little moments tend to stick. And eventually they make their way into the studio.
Nature arranges colors in combinations that already feel harmonious. Our eyes have been calibrated to the natural world for centuries. It’s worth leaning into that rather than fighting it.
When I begin developing a palette, I rarely start with five or six colors at once. Most of the time I start with one color that feels like the anchor. A soft sage green. A warm clay tone. A deep blue that feels calm and grounding.
From there the palette grows. I experiment with colors that complement or contrast with that first tone. Some colors naturally support each other. Others feel uncomfortable together immediately. Building a palette is a bit like arranging furniture in a room… you move things around until the relationships between the pieces feel balanced.
One of the most important parts of a color palette is contrast. Without enough contrast, a pattern feels flat… the elements blend together and the design loses clarity. Too much contrast creates the opposite problem: when every color competes for attention, the pattern feels chaotic.
I usually look for a balance between a dominant color that carries most of the visual weight, a few supporting colors that add variety, and one or two accents that add interest without demanding it. That structure gives the pattern cohesion rather than visual overwhelm.
Some colors can recede while others step forward. This becomes especially important in denser patterns. A softer tone allows certain elements to fade slightly into the background, creating visual breathing room. Meanwhile a stronger color highlights the motifs I want people to notice first.
This kind of color hierarchy helps guide the eye through the design… one of the quiet ways color contributes to balance. The viewer doesn’t notice it consciously. But they feel it.
A palette might look beautiful as a group of color swatches… but the real test happens once those colors are applied inside the pattern. That’s when the experimenting begins in earnest.
I might swap colors between motifs. Lighten a tone slightly. Adjust contrast to change the overall mood. Small shifts can dramatically alter how a pattern feels. Sometimes a palette needs the tiniest adjustment before everything suddenly clicks into place. (Tiny adjustment after forty-five minutes of trying other things. But still… it clicks.)
When designing a pattern collection rather than a single pattern, the palette becomes even more important. The colors need to work across several patterns that share the same visual world. A hero pattern might contain the full palette, while secondary patterns highlight smaller portions of those colors. Blender patterns often simplify the palette further. When it’s all working, the collection feels cohesive without becoming repetitive.
Next time you’re outside, take a photo of something that catches your eye… a flower, a landscape, a produce display at the store. Look closely at the colors within that image. Nature rarely uses dozens of competing colors. Usually there are a few dominant tones supported by quieter ones.
That same principle applies when building pattern palettes. Sometimes the best palettes are the ones we simply learn to notice.
Curious to see how these ideas show up in finished collections? Explore the Portfolio… and if you’re building something of your own and looking for artwork that feels thoughtful and distinctive, learn more about working together.
If this is the kind of conversation you want more of, I want to show up in your inbox.
Candidly, Candi is where I send the letters that don’t fit in a caption… the real stories, the honest tools, the “okay I have to tell someone about this” moments from the in-between. And I’m just as interested in hearing what’s going on in your world as I am in showing up for you.
Put your name on the list. I’ll see you in there.