In the summer heat, it can feel as though everything slows down. The trade-off for an air-conditioned office is a packed-out train or stuffy zoom booth. On the flipside working from home may well come hand in hand with kids climbing the walls or staring longingly out the window. No matter our age or how long we have been out of school, it's hard to shake the feeling that we should all be on a 6-week summer holiday.

Slowing down is a privilege we rarely afford ourselves in an always-on marketing ecosystem. In the midst of the summer slump, there is no shortage of places, ideas and work to get inspired by. If curiosity is fuel for creativity, the summer months are the rays of sunshine we need to spark a creative fire. In the spirit of feeding our collective creative energy, we asked industry leaders to share where they are finding their creative inspiration this summer.

So far this summer, I’ve cracked how to decipher a dunnock from a goldfinch (if we’ve reached peak Merlin App I don’t want to know). I’ve learnt about the unbelievable asymmetry and illusion of the Parthenon at the Acropolis Museum in Athens. I’ve experienced the wild, undulating magic of atonal music compositions from genius and rule-breaker Maddie Ashman, who invites us to appreciate the beauty in dissonance. And I’ve been moved to tears by Ed Atkins’ tribute to his father and mother, and grief, at Tate Britain. His thought-provoking work in CGI and film never fails to inspire and challenge me. 

This summer, I’ll keep doing what I try to do every season, which is to get out, switch off from project briefs and take time to look and listen and feel what others are sharing. Magnum ice cream in hand. When we get out of our routines, the sparks fly and we reconnect with our creative self, so have that notebook ready to catch those flickers and enjoy.

Summer 2025 has been peak scroll season. I love and work in social media, but I’ve even hit a point where the algorithmic churn feels like background noise. There’s comfort in it, of course, but somewhere around minute 40, I realise I haven’t had a single original thought in half an hour.

So, I’ve made one small change. Nothing dramatic, just a tweak to my commute. Before heading into the heat each evening, I download a couple of long reads. Thoughtful, critical pieces from essay-led platforms and independent magazines I found mostly through Substack. It’s not about being virtuous. I just needed to feel like I was choosing what I consume again.

Here are two standouts: 

Democracy by the Book by Antón Barba-Kay in The Hedgehog Review explores what he dubs the "dawn of TikTokracy”, a sharp reflection on media, attention, and the shape of democracy in an algorithm-led world. 

A MinutePhysics video essay on Aeon exploring the science behind why some sounds feel harmonious and why it’s more complicated than you might think.

Taking 20 minutes to read something thoughtful each day hasn’t fixed the world, but it’s woken my brain up and reminded me that I still get to choose what goes in.

I live and breathe cameras at work, so you’d think I shy away from them in my free time, but I find street photography is a great creative outlet that allows me to put my camera skills to good use in a totally different environment. I love exploring London through a lens and meeting all the characters that fill the streets with personality. I love browsing street photography books and zines for inspiration; shout out to Strange Town by Cal Holland.

Aside from that, in an effort to disrupt my usual routine and save me from falling into the same old habits, I’ve introduced monthly challenges for the whole of 2025. Varying from cutting out caffeine to doing an hour of yoga every day. Each month has given me a fresh perspective on the choices I make and has motivated me to think creatively about how I spend my time and money.

I’ve also focused on learning a practical skill that keeps me away from screens; my partner recently gifted me some light-up juggling balls, which have brought me an inordinate amount of joy!

This summer, I have mostly been getting my creative inspiration from my chickens. 

If I am struggling with an idea, you won’t find me conjuring it up in the shower or on the loo. You will find me sitting on an old tyre surrounded by feathered friends. 

Not only does spending time with them calm your nervous system, lower stress and allow the natural production of feel-good hormones. But seeing these wee courageous explorers, constantly curious about the world around them, always helps me to remember to play and have fun with an idea just like they do. They understand the importance of teamwork too. If you add a pile of wood chippings into their pen, they will stop until it’s spread equally across the floor. And they don’t just scratch the surface either, they keep digging deeper and deeper to see what they can unearth. 

Not convinced? Just take a small moment to think about the fact that every day they squeeze an edible treat out of their bum. Now that’s a creative genius if ever I saw one. Oh and the colour of their earlobes determines the colour of their eggs. Mind blown.

We all know the best ideas don’t come from sitting at our desks. The idea that pops-up mid-run, halfway through a pint, or in the shower (classic but so true!). Curiosity runs through Valentine; it’s a behaviour we nurture and hold dear, so it felt right to ask a few of the team about creative inspiration rather than hear it from just one voice. 

Dan swears by Dribbble and Behance for fresh layouts. He also rates the How To Academy podcast (especially anything with Rory Sutherland). For Kate, Joe, and Tash, it’s all about watching what other brands are doing and keeping an eye on cultural shifts, then asking why, not just what. For Sam, it’s the industry newsletters, TikTok, and anything that makes her feel something. And Jim? An avid reader, watcher, listener, and experiencer, he insists pubs are the perfect creative lab; smells, tastes, and overheard conversations.

That curiosity recently helped us turn a Shoreditch pub into The Asahi Open Arms, the flagship venue for Asahi’s WRWC ‘Pub Pledge’. Proof that creative inspiration leads to greatness - even powerful cultural shifts.

Don’t force it. Let it come. Notice things. Enjoy it.

On warm summer evenings, I’ll hop on a Lime bike and take a solo ride through East London with no fixed destination, music in my ears, letting the city pull me into whatever’s happening. Stumbling across independent art shows, live music, and fashion pop-ups tucked away in graffiti-laden alleyways, fueled by street food vendors whose flavours become part of the experience.

As I move through the city, I’m always stopping to take photos of interesting shapes and forms: the curve of a balcony, light slicing across a piece of street art, the angular geometry of a scaffolding. These small details live quietly in my camera roll until one day they spark an idea or end up in a piece of work.

As the sun sets, I’ll sit by Hackney river, accompanied by a takeaway IPA, sketching in a notebook or producing music on the laptop, sat comfortably in-between calm of the river and the chaos of party-goers, taking inspiration from the turbulent world passing by. It’s never about choosing between noise and stillness. It’s about existing in the space between the two, where the city’s energy meets my own curiosity, and where ideas take on a life of their own.

I’ve been embracing play this summer as part of efforts to be ‘fun mum’ during the summer holidays. Stepping away from my laptop for mini adventures both with my sons and on my own has brought so many moments of joy and really helped shift my thinking and make space in my over-stuffed brain for new ideas and flights of fancy. Making up silly stories (with the aid of our trusty Story Dice – a must-buy for any creative), romanticising the mundane (our washing basket has had a second summer job as a rollercoaster carriage) and spending hours (and hours and hours) with Lego has got me plenty of Brownie points with the kids and brought plenty of other benefits too.

Art. Always art. It keeps my brain moving year round, but in the sweltering heat, it feels especially refreshing.

A gallery or museum allows me to focus on other people’s visual ideas and experiences, completely disconnected from the pressures of design assignments and client work. No laptop, no phone, just looking at the things that other humans have spent their lives making.

I live in a city and it can be hot and chaotic and choked with construction dust. So stepping into the quiet cool of a gallery feels like stepping into another world. I treat it like travel—open to whatever ideas, emotions, or surprises come my way.

This summer, I was blown away by Skawennati’s show on cyberpunk Indigenous futures. Worlds on Paper moved me with its prints and drawings from the deep North. And I grinned hard at the mixology American pop culture in Alex da Corte’s exhibit. Each show was its own universe, totally different from the others, and each one gave me something to carry back into my everyday life.

Art doesn’t hand me solutions to design problems, but it does pull me out of my Daily Stuff and reminds me why I make things in the first place.

Creativity for me is most fruitful away from the office. This summer the garden has become my haven of mental and physical work. I’ve nominated myself resident gardener, and I set out from the start to do everything organically, without the use of chemical pesticides. It’s been great so far: cucumbers, mangetout, rocket, courgettes, carrots, chives, loads of beetroot, cabbage and pumpkins are on the way.

The moderate sized raised bed in the garden demands a lot. I’ve needed to read about the seeds I planted earlier in the year, while sowing seeds in succession to ensure a continuous crop, not to mention constant weeding! Planning seed distribution to ensure as much ‘companion planting’ has produced a very decent crop and reading on plants that naturally deter certain pests has helped keep them at bay, to an extent. Observing the bed on a weekly basis and seeing the results from the food I’ve produced, the abundant life and ecosystem from this small, raised bed has translated to working in a creative agency: think big but keep things simple, observe intently and cherish the work you do, and the results will speak for themselves. That way, your creative work, however it looks, will leave a lasting impression.