Rex Carter

• Age: 48
• Location: London, UK (East Dulwich)
• Occupation: Independent Design Consultant (formerly at a mid-sized digital studio)
• Income: $85,000
• Education: Bachelor's in Graphic Design (Central Saint Martins, 1996)
• Company size: solopreneuer
• Years in role: 5

“Every startup wants to be the next big thing, but most just need to be the first decent thing.”

Rex Carter has spent 25 years in design—15 in agencies, 5 as a consultant, and the rest they’d rather not quantify. They left agency life after one too many 'just tweak this' requests that turned into 30-hour weeks. Now they work exclusively with early-stage startups, where they’ve developed a reputation for 'asking the questions founders hate but need.' Their approach is part therapist, part strategist—design is just the medium. They’ve seen enough pitches to spot the difference between 'vision' and 'delusion,' and their notebooks are full of sketches for startups that never launched. Recently, they’ve been experimenting with AI tools to speed up their work, though they’re vocal about 'tools being no substitute for thinking.' Their personal project, a design co-pilot for non-designers, is currently at v0.5—'I’ll release it when it’s actually useful, not when I’m bored with it.' They charge low rates for capital-constrained founders but won’t work with those who undervalue design. Their war room setup is legendary among clients for its chaotic organization—posters, sticky notes, and half-drunk coffee cups. They’re currently deciding whether to upskill in AI/UX or focus on becoming a startup design mentor. Money is 'enough'—their biggest splurge this year was a 3D printer to prototype physical products for founders who can’t afford manufacturers. They’ve learned that startups remember the designers who told them 'no' and the ones who helped them figure it out. They’d rather be the latter.

Background & daily life

A day in their life

5:55am: Alarmed vibration wakes them up. 6:01am: Cat Miro is already on their keyboard—Rex shoves him off without opening their eyes. 6:15am: Stumble to kitchen, grind beans for a pre-walk pour-over. 6:30am: 45-minute walk to Pecksniffs, same route, same podcast (they’re on Episode 147 of The SaaS Player). 7:30am: Sketch in Moleskine, rebutting last night’s 'brilliant idea' from a founder. 8:30am: Work begins—first, answering async messages in batches (they’ve trained clients this is standard). 10:00am: Client call with a founder who wants 'Netflix for dog walkers.' Rex asks 'What problem are you really solving?' 12:00pm: Lunch at their desk while watching a startup pitch video on mute. 2:00pm: Deep work on a pricing page redesign—loses track of time. 4:30pm: Email a potential client 'We should talk pricing before design.' 5:30pm: Walk to local Korean grocer, buys ingredients they don’t need. 6:30pm: Cook while listening to a design critique podcast. 8:00pm: 'Research browsing'—tabs open to startup blogs, AI tools, and a Reddit thread about M1 MacBook replacements. 10:00pm: Watch anime to decompress. 11:00pm: Draft a blog post about 'Why startups should price before they design.' 11:59pm: Realizes they haven’t posted on Twitter in 3 days. Sends a thread about design heuristics. 12:15am: Sleep.

Lifestyle

Rex lives in a converted Victorian schoolhouse with floor-to-ceiling shelves of design books and prototype models. Their routine is deceptively rigid: 6:30am walks to Pecksniffs café for 'the usual' (oat milk latte, no sugar, no chit-chat), 7:30am sketching in Moleskine, 8:30am—3:30pm alternating between client work (60%) and personal projects (40%). Their gym membership lapsed three times this year—they’d rather bike on their Peloton while watching Design Matters clips. Cooks in bulk on Sundays to avoid weekday decisions. Money is 'comfortable but no frills'—recently told their partner they'd rather repair their 10-year-old MacBook than buy new. Social life revolves around a small core of ex-agency colleagues who also left the 9-5, plus occasional startup pitch events they attend 'for research.' Health hacks include a 20-minute 'virtual forest' meditation app and refusing to wear shoes in their home.

Work life

Rex works from a 'war room' setup—drawn-out process flows on posterboard, sticky notes on every surface, 4 monitors running different projects. Tools: Figma (obviously), Miro (for nervous founders), Whimsical (for wireframing), Zapier (to automate client onboarding), Notion (though they grudgingly admit it’s 'over-engineered for 2-person teams'). Their clients are all pre-revenue or seed stage—'The ones with time to talk about design systems but not enough budget to waste.' Coworkers? Just their cats, who reliably ignore deadlines. Pressures include scope creep from founders who say 'just make it better,' and the guilt of charging 'premium solo rates' while also 'not wanting to gouge hungry startups.' Their ideal workday has 1 client call (max 30 mins), 2 hours of deep work, and the rest in 'reactive mode' answering async messages. The worst days involve explaining to founders why their 'bold vision' requires actual usability testing.

Relationships

Rex’s partner, Jay, is a digital nomad who codes for fintech startups when not traveling. Their dynamic works because they’re both 'absent presence' types—Rex in their war room, Jay in Bali. Close friends are mostly ex-agency colleagues who left corporate life for solo work. Their mentor is an ex-client, a now-serial founder who lets Rex pick their brain over 'no-strings coffee.' Their community is mostly online: founders they’ve worked with, designers in a Slack group, and a Twitter circle of 'startup design grumps.' They avoid 'networking events' but will show up for a free 'future of SaaS' panel if it has good snacks. Their cats, Miro and Whimsical, are named after their two least favorite tools.

How they decide

Slow to start, fast to commit once they’ve decided. Prefers to see patterns before acting—collects examples for weeks before choosing a tool or methodology. Hates being pressured to 'just decide' but will make a call if you give them a deadline framed as 'this needs your genius.' Will test tools extensively before adopting, then stick with them for years (even if outdated). In crisis, defaults to the option that preserves autonomy—more work for them than a quick compromise.

How they sound

Speaks in paragraph bursts with long pauses, like someone editing in real-time. Uses 'I hear you' a lot. Voice is dry but not cynical—more like a physician delivering bad news kindly. They’ll say 'let’s not overthink this' then spend 20 minutes overthinking it. Avoids jargon unless they’re mocking it. When excited, their sentences get longer and they use more acronyms (e.g., 'Their MVP isn’t really an MVP—it’s a POC with some polish.'). Never says 'I’m busy'—it’s always 'my calendar is full' or 'I’m in the middle of a deep focus session.' Their Twitter voice is more sarcastic than real-life one.