"I don't travel to copy what I see — I travel to observe."
– Paul Sunga
Paul Sunga answered most of these questions on foot, walking between meetings. He said as much, and then apologized for it, which felt unnecessary. It was the most accurate answer he could have given.
He is a creative director and photographer based in Hong Kong, with more than fifteen years of experience across luxury, beauty, fashion, and lifestyle. His work spans commercial campaigns, editorials, and brand experiences, with a portfolio that includes Louis Vuitton, Prada, Max Mara, and Fenty Beauty. He currently works as Creative Partnerships & Content Director at Beauty Express Group, where he focuses on creative strategy, content production, and regional brand partnerships—the connective work of turning an idea into something people can actually see.
We wanted to talk with him because his job is essentially professional noticing. He spends his days deciding what belongs in a frame and what gets left out, and he does it while moving through one of the densest, fastest cities in the world. That question — what earns its place, and what can go — is the same one we keep circling at SOTIYO, just applied to a backpack instead of a photograph.
He came to Hong Kong without a plan. That part matters.
A Weekend Decision, and a City That Stuck
Paul is originally from Toronto. He came to Hong Kong on a whim one weekend, after seeing an opportunity, and decided to chase it. He calls it a leap of faith, and he is straightforward about how little he knew at the time. What followed was a career and a life he never imagined.
Nearly two decades on, he calls the city home, and calls the decision one of the best he has made. It is worth sitting with how ordinary the starting point was: one weekend, one opportunity, and a willingness to move before the picture was complete.
Fast Weekdays, Slow Weekends
Ask him where movement shows up in his life and he talks about the shape of a week.
Weekdays are quick — the gym, meetings, trains, Ubers, production shoots, stacked close together. He is candid that he is not the fittest person in the room. He simply likes getting up, breaking a sweat, and resetting before the day begins. The workout is less about fitness than about arriving at the day already in motion.
Then the weekend arrives and he slows it down on purpose. He credits the city for teaching him this. Hong Kong runs on extraordinary energy, and somehow also reminds you to find your own balance. He describes it as yin and yang, and the phrase fits a place where a hiking trail sits fifteen minutes from a trading floor.
The Reflection That Comes After
We asked which moments between places tend to stay with him. He redirected the question, gently. For him it is not the space between two locations. It is the space between two projects.
After a shoot wraps, or an event ends, or a meeting goes well, he steps back and replays it. What worked. What could have been sharper. What he wants to do differently next time. Those quiet stretches, he says, are where he grows the most — not during the work, but in the settling afterward, when the adrenaline has drained and the judgment comes back.
Watching How Other Cities Live
Travel remains his largest source of inspiration, though the way he uses it is specific. In Paris, Bali, Bangkok, or back home in Toronto, he watches how people dress, how they interact, how they move through an ordinary Tuesday.
He is clear-eyed about what social media has done to all of this. Style is more global than it has ever been, and a look can land in four cities at once. Even so, he says, every city still has its own personality. His response is not to collect references. "I don't travel to copy what I see — I travel to observe." The small details he picks up tend to surface later, in a project that has nothing obvious to do with where he saw them.
What the Difficult Years Taught Him
The transitions that shaped him most were the hard ones. He does not dress this up. The moments when things did not go as planned taught him the biggest lessons, and he leaves it at that.
What has changed is his relationship to them. With age, he says, he has come to understand that difficult times do not last forever — and that more often than not they turn out to be the turning points. Looking back, he is grateful for them, because they built the resilience he works from now. It is a quiet reframe, and it takes most people a long time to arrive at.
One Object That Does Everything
Asked what he keeps close, he does not hesitate: his phone. His diary, his calendar, his camera, his notebook, and his office, all in one object. It is how he runs projects, stays with clients, and keeps up with family and friends spread across time zones.
He adds, unprompted, that it is not sentimental. There is no story attached to it, no origin, no meaning beyond what it does. It is simply the one thing he cannot leave home without. Coming from someone who makes a living on beautiful objects, the honesty is refreshing.
The Henderson, and the Friend Who Brings Everyone Together
Living in Hong Kong, he finds architecture hard to ignore, and one building in particular keeps his attention: The Henderson, by Zaha Hadid Architects, in Central. He describes it as elegant, modern, and perfectly placed within the skyline — a shape that could easily have fought the city and instead sits inside it.
His definition of good design follows from that. It is design where every detail feels intentional. Then he does something we did not expect: he applies it to people. Sometimes, he says, it is that one person in a group of friends who naturally brings everyone together. When every piece fits, that is great design.
Rested, Connected, and Ready for Takeoff
Comfort, for him, is not an object. It is being around good friends, getting enough sleep, and feeling that life is moving in the right direction. Stress does not disappear — he assumes it will always be there — but small personal and professional wins bring a sense of calm around it.
The sensory version of that arrives at a very specific moment: just before a plane takes off. The engines, the familiar scent of the cabin, the sudden concreteness of it. Until then he is usually rushing to the airport with a hundred things in his head. Once he is seated and the aircraft starts to move, he takes a breath and thinks: okay, the journey starts now.
Curiosity as a Discipline
He is wary of autopilot, and treats avoiding it as active work rather than an attitude. He changes a lighting setup. He approaches a project from an angle he has not tried. He brings in people he has not worked with before. The goal is to keep learning, which is a harder discipline the more experienced you get.
He is measured about technology, too. It helps everyone create faster, he says, but experience is what keeps the ideas fresh. Speed is available to anyone. Judgment is not.
As for what is next: he recently got back from Paris and is still shaking off the jet lag. The coming trips will likely be around Asia, which suits him — every destination there has its own character, whether it is a loud city, a quiet island, or somewhere he did not expect. And, he admits, after a long day of exploring, an excellent foot massage is the right way to end it.
Where This Leaves Us
What we take from Paul is how consistently he sets a rhythm rather than a rule. Fast week, slow weekend. Observe, then let it surface later. Move first, understand afterward. None of it is a system, and that seems deliberate.
It also lines up with something we believe at SOTIYO. Good design is not the thing you notice — it is the thing that stops asking for your attention so you can give it to the day instead. Paul finds that in a building that fits its skyline, and in the friend who holds a group together. We look for it in the objects people carry while they are busy paying attention to everything else.
Keep Reading
Some people make you see the world differently. Paul is one of them. Discover more of Paul's world on Instagram and LinkedIn.
If Paul's habit of reading a city through its details struck a chord, our piece on Reading the Street: What City Signs Reveal About Us works the same muscle. His view of design that belongs where it stands sits close to Objects That Move Us: Iconic Design for Travelers. And for another Hong Kong perspective on The Art of Moving Without a Plan, read our conversation with Bonnie Chu.
For the curious
Who is Paul Sunga?
Paul Sunga is a Hong Kong–based creative director and photographer with over 15 years of experience in luxury, beauty, fashion, and lifestyle. Originally from Toronto, he works on commercial, editorial, and fashion campaigns, and has collaborated with brands including Louis Vuitton, Prada, Max Mara, and Fenty Beauty.
What does a creative director actually do?
In Paul's case, the role combines creative strategy, content production, and brand partnerships — shaping the idea behind a campaign, then directing the visual work that brings it to life. He also shoots, which is less common and lets him carry an idea from concept through to the final image.
How does Paul Sunga use travel in his creative work?
He treats travel as observation rather than reference-gathering. In Paris, Bali, Bangkok, or Toronto, he watches how people dress, interact, and live day to day — details that resurface later in unrelated projects. As he puts it, he doesn't travel to copy what he sees.
What is The Henderson in Hong Kong?
The Henderson is a 36-storey office tower at 2 Murray Road in Central, Hong Kong, designed by Zaha Hadid Architects, with a form inspired by a Bauhinia bud in bloom. Paul cites it as an example of design where every detail feels intentional and the building sits naturally within the skyline.
What does Paul Sunga carry with him every day?
His phone, which he describes as his diary, calendar, camera, notebook, and office in one. He's explicit that it isn't sentimental — it's simply the one object he can't leave home without.
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