The Woman Who Designs Her Life and She Designs Your Brand

A few weeks ago, Charlotte White told me she was spending a month at the beach.

My first thought, and I'll be honest, was that Charlotte must be sitting on money she wasn't telling me about. A month at the beach? I pictured the Hamptons. The Obamas. A whole other life happening quietly off to the side.

Then I asked questions. No, she doesn't own a beach house. No, she didn't book some luxury villa. She rents an oceanfront condo on Topsail Island, the same kind of 900-square-foot place you'd book for a week in July, except she books it for a month in late September and early October. When they first did this a few years ago, the price difference was about $300 more than a single peak-season week.

She brings a table up to the loft, hooks up her monitor, and has a full office by the afternoon. Every morning she drives across the bridge to a yoga studio in Surf City. That's the only time she touches her car. She rides a bike everywhere else. She works all day, walks on the beach at lunch, sits on the balcony watching the ocean while she eats. When it's too windy for the beach, the pool is still open and the weather is still in the 80s.

Her husband Eric is a realtor. He drives back to the Triangle when he needs to. She stays and works. Nobody handed them a playbook for this. Charlotte just looked at the situation, saw a gap between what everyone else was doing and what would actually work, and walked through it.

She has been doing this her entire life.

Charlotte grew up in Chapel Hill, an academic community where going to college was the main event. As a junior in high school, she told her parents she wasn't going right away.

This was before gap years had a name. Her friends' parents didn't know what to make of it. Her own parents were more gracious. Their response was, okay, what are you going to do? She didn't entirely know. She'd taken a commercial design class and knew she wanted to go to design school eventually. She just wasn't ready yet.

She worked minimum wage for about six to nine months. And when the time came, she was ready. Not because anyone convinced her. Because she'd given herself the space to arrive at it.

At 23, Charlotte quit her second job out of college. The 9-to-5 with the heels and the little skirt. "I played Grown-Up for a little while," she told me. "This isn't working." She freelanced for three years, picking up three jobs to cover the bills.

In her mid-twenties, she reconnected with Eric, who was living in Hilton Head, nearly six hours away. She'd always wanted to live near the beach. She went and got a job because she knew she couldn't freelance without knowing anyone, and three years of freelancing had taught her she still had things to learn. She worked at agencies for four years, first as a production manager and then as an art director.

Then she got pregnant. The 60-to-70-hour agency weeks were not going to work in what she called her new life. So she quit again. Freelanced again. And Eric noticed she never billed anyone. "That's not really my thing," she told him. He offered to do the billing. And just like that, they were working together.

Do you see it? Every few years, the same move. Something stops fitting. Charlotte doesn't complain about it. She doesn't wait for permission. She redesigns.

When I pointed this out to her, she laughed. "I guess it was by accident and intentional at the same time," she said. Then she paused. "I guess I've never really liked being told what to do."

I say she likes to carve out her own path. And it's a beautiful one.

Charlotte and Eric have two kids: Aja, their firstborn daughter, and Kai, their son. Aja was born responsible. Kai was born ready for a good time. Charlotte and Eric, both middle children, will tell you that birth order matters. But they'll also tell you: if you're not having fun, what's the point?

One day, they picked Kai up from preschool, then pulled Aja out of school early, telling her she had a dentist appointment. When she got in the car, saw her little brother sitting there, and asked what was going on, they sprung the surprise: We're going to Disney World.

Kai was dancing in his car seat. Aja was panicked. What about their dog, Mana? Who's going to take care of her? Where are we staying?

Charlotte and Eric had planned everything. The surprise was for the kids. But Aja didn't want a surprise. She wanted the logistics.

Charlotte still laughs about it. "We did stress her out sometimes."

That spirit shows up everywhere: the willingness to pull your kid out of school for Disney, the beach month, the career pivots that always seem to land. It's design. Charlotte sees what's available, sees what she actually wants, and builds the bridge. Every time.

And here's where an interesting story gets even more interesting.

Charlotte has been doing something instinctively for herself all along. She sees the gap, strips away what doesn't fit, and designs something that actually works. That is exactly what she does through her firm, White Space Creative. She's a brand strategist. And when you see how she brings design into everything, you know the quality of her work will not disappoint.

Charlotte calls it finding the spirit of your brand. She listens until she can identify the thing that makes you distinctly you, and then she reflects it back in your messaging, your visuals, and your customer experience. She recently coined a word for the people she serves best: GenXpert. Her clients are Gen X. They're starting second careers or finally going out on their own after decades of experience. They're not trying to build what a 35-year-old is building. They're in a different place, and Charlotte meets them there.

She told me about a client who's a hairstylist, a painter, and a personal stylist. Another provider had proposed building the client an e-commerce store to sell her paintings online. Charlotte asked one question: are you actually going to sell a painting off a website? The client said no. "Then I don't understand why you need that."

Instead, Charlotte built something that showcased the client as what she actually is: an artist who works in different mediums. No unnecessary store. No features that don't fit. Just a presence that felt like her.

The client's daughter texted her mother after the site went live: "I looked through your website last night. It's a beautiful representation of you and your work."

That is the whole game for Charlotte White. She wants you to look at what she's built and recognize yourself. The same way she's always looked at her own life, recognized what was actually hers, and let go of the rest.

"It's not about me," she said. "It's about them."

It's always been about design. Charlotte just happened to start with her own life.

Charlotte, her husband Eric, and their friend Jackie Vogel also created the Unplugged Network, a totally casual, in-person social gathering for people who miss real conversation. No name tags. No elevator speeches. No icebreakers. Nothing to prepare, nothing to pitch, and no pressure to perform. If that sounds like the opposite of every networking event you've ever dreaded, that's the point. The next one is Thursday, November 5, from 5:30 to 7:00 PM at The Casual Pint in Chapel Hill (201 S Elliott Rd, Ste 51), with a Jeopardy night starting at 7 if you want to stick around. Bring a friend. Whoever brings the most guests wins a prize.

Charlotte White is the owner of White Space Creative in Chapel Hill-Carrboro, NC. Bringing Your Brand Spirit to Life.

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