- What was it?
- A project of mine, August 2026
- The venue
- CurfewClub, Hongdae, Seoul. It doesn't exist.
- What's inside
- The concept, the brand, three posters and five things written around the venue.

How it started
It was one of those days that, to quote the great Ornella Vanoni, “brings on a melancholy that won’t leave you until evening.”
To be precise, I was missing Seoul, the nights out in Hongdae, going around Latin clubs and having fun with my Mexican friends. That’s where I got the idea of making some posters. No brief, no client, not even a name: it all started a little by chance, out of nostalgia.
Then, putting the three posters together, I realised they were saying the same thing: put your phone down and look the person in front of you in the eye. That’s what I think we’re starting to lose: noticing, paying attention, letting ourselves get caught up in the spontaneity of two lives meeting.
Why it only exists on paper
As I developed the idea, a consequence came up that I hadn’t anticipated at first: a venue that pushes back against screens can’t advertise itself on a screen without contradicting itself. That’s why CurfewClub exists on paper.
The second idea is that what happens here doesn’t end up online. Without phones, there’s nothing left of that night. No story, no video. Just the people who were there.
The three posters



I imagine them as three different nights in the same venue, with the neon changing colour each night. Magenta is the signature, and it stays the same across every piece in the project.
Inside the venue
The posters are outside. Inside, I needed something else, so I chose five objects that you can recognise before you even read them.
At the entrance, I planned for two options, because a real venue needs both: if you leave your phone at the cloakroom, you get it back on the way out; if you need to keep it with you — a taxi to call, work, someone who doesn’t feel comfortable being unreachable — you come in with the camera lens covered. Either way, the phone stops recording.
| Where | What it is | What it says |
|---|---|---|
| At the entrance, for those who keep their phone | a sticker over the camera lens | EYES ONLY |
| At the dance floor entrance | a safety sign | HIGH RISK OF EYE CONTACT |
| At the bar | the Wi-Fi password card | PASSWORD: talktoeachother |
| In the bathroom | the sign on the mirror | THE ONLY SCREEN WE ALLOW |
| At the exit, for those who left it behind | the cloakroom receipt | ITEM: one phone · OUT: 05:00 |
Put together, they tell the story of an entire night: you walk in, you dance, you order a drink, you look at yourself in the mirror, you leave.






The bathroom mirror
It’s the only one of the five pieces that isn’t printed: it’s a neon sign, it lights up and illuminates the face of whoever is reading it.
In a venue, the bathroom mirror is where the phone comes up almost by itself. That’s why this piece belongs there.
Mirrors in venues are always flattering. This one says you look fine. go back.
Note on the images: the faces in the three posters and the five settings where the pieces are photographed were generated with AI. The brand, copy, five pieces and layout were designed.