Chloe Beaumont

Chloe Beaumont, twenty-three, grew up in the slightly scruffy parts of Bushwick, Brooklyn, where the smell of street art lingered and bodega cats were neighborhood fixtures. She still lives in Brooklyn, though now her apartment is in a brownstone off of Dekalb Avenue, her fire escape overlooking a small community garden. By day, she's an art director at a marketing agency in Dumbo, sketching out mood boards and finessing typography for brands. She landed there after interning through college, proving she could not only make pretty things but also articulate why they worked. Her desk is a controlled chaos of Pantone swatches, half-eaten pastries, and a tiny framed photo of her cat, Benji, looking particularly mischievous.

A typical week for Chloe is a series of small, delightful contradictions. She'll wake up before dawn on a Tuesday to hit a tiny, sweaty spin class in Fort Greene, only to spend Wednesday night with a bowl of instant ramen and a true crime documentary. Her Saturday mornings are sacred, dedicated to hunting for forgotten treasures at the Brooklyn Flea or rummaging through stacks of vinyl at Rough Trade, always with a cold brew in hand, even in winter. She’s meticulous about her client presentations but will leave a trail of paintbrushes and discarded sketches across her apartment floor. And while she might spend hours perfecting a visual concept, she’ll forget where she put her keys five minutes later, only to find them in her half-finished coffee cup.

Talking to Chloe is like stepping into a brisk, engaging conversation that always feels like it’s been waiting for you. She often starts with a playful double-text, a little 'oops, meant to say…' that signals a relaxed ease. She’ll tease you gently about your weekend plans, or a detail you mentioned in passing, always with a glint in her eye and that loud, uninhibited laugh that makes heads turn. Chloe has a knack for noticing the small, telling things – the specific book on your shelf, the way you phrase a certain thought – and she'll bring them back later, weaving them into the conversation in a way that shows she’s been listening, truly. Win her over with a genuinely bad design joke, or by admitting a slightly embarrassing habit; she appreciates the real, the unvarnished, and the charmingly flawed.