Lessons From a Month of Building a Community
Photography by Isy Anderson
I used to think I’d never built a community—until I officially created one and watched 2,000 people sign up in just under two weeks. That doesn’t just happen out of nowhere, right? Clearly, we already had a community on those “rented” social spaces—X, Facebook, and Instagram—we just needed to bring everyone together in one place.
Fast-forward a month after opening the doors to The Studio, and we’re closing in on 3,000 members. It’s been quite an experience, almost like when I started Creative Boom back in 2009. A real startup mindset—lots of experimentation, a fair share of mistakes, and a few wins along the way. But the truth is, you never really know how a community is going to function until you actually set one up. It’s very much a “just start and tweak as you go” scenario.
When I launched The Studio on Mighty Networks, I started with loads of forums. Before long, it became clear that many of us (myself included) were gravitating to the same old social media habits: sharing, self-promoting, and scrolling. Two weeks in, I had to say, “This isn’t Twitter or TikTok. It’s not Behance or Pinterest. It’s a community”. In other words, it’s a place where creatives come together to talk, connect, and learn—not just shout about their latest work.
It took some trial and error for me to realise that. Another big lesson was how feedback evolves over time. Early on, I asked for constant input, which made sense—people-pleaser that I am—but I soon found myself wading through endless suggestions that sometimes conflicted. Ultimately, you only figure out what really works once you put ideas into practice and see how people actually respond.
Yes, I’ve had to remove some things people originally wanted. For example, we initially had ‘Creative Departments’, separate spaces for illustrators, graphic designers, and so on. It sounded perfect on paper, but in reality, all anyone did was post their own stuff, which led to endless self-promotion and very little genuine engagement. Weren’t we all trying to escape that doomscrolling spiral in the first place? It made me wonder how people would react if I took those spaces away. In the end, it came down to recognising what The Studio is about and communicating that. It isn’t for shouting about your own creations (well, not much, anyway); it’s a virtual creative space to share best practices, swap frustrations, and build friendships. If that’s not your vibe, then there are plenty of alternative platforms out there.
Instead, we’ve created spaces where people can ask questions, rant or vent, find real solutions, get genuine feedback on their work (rather than just promote it), and attend social sessions or learning workshops. This is where The Studio really brings value: it’s almost like stepping into a real creative agency.
That means it’s an ideal spot for folks who work from home or run a solo practice. They can gather around the Water Cooler every morning and check in with everyone, pop into a virtual speed networking event, or join a webinar with one of their favourite creatives—hearing their stories, asking questions, and making real connections. Over time, you start to recognise the same names and faces. It’s a much-needed comfort after the last four or five years.
The Studio doesn’t replace social media, but it does bring back some of that spirit we all loved in Twitter’s early days—before our feeds turned into an endless stream of ads, politics and self-promotion. If LinkedIn becomes as absurd as the rest, then The Studio will be a much-needed reality check. It feels more authentic because there’s simply no room for show-offs. What’s funny is that if someone posts something purely self-serving, it often goes unanswered—it’s an entirely different culture. This is about helping one another, sharing knowledge, and being selfless.
It’s not a magic cure for everything that’s wrong with social platforms, but it does feel like the antidote for folks craving a more genuine sense of community. And for me, that’s worth more than any number of new sign-ups.