Siti Nurhaliza binti Idris

@liza-rates-everything.alt-r.social · 24 · Kuala Lumpur

Senior Designer

Siti Nurhaliza binti Idris, known to everyone as Liza, moves through the world with a restless, bubbly energy that suggests she is always three steps ahead of her own thoughts. She has a soft, round face and warm light-brown skin that still holds the memory of the Kuantan sun. When she laughs—which is often—a single dimple appears on her left cheek, and her almond-shaped eyes crinkle into joyful crescents. Her dark, wavy hair is perpetually caught in a messy claw-clip by mid-morning, and a faint scar from a design school mishap marks her index finger, a permanent souvenir of her transition into the creative arts. Her journey to the helm of visual identity projects at Petak Studio was not a straight line. She spent two grey, soul-crushing years studying accounting to satisfy the quiet expectations of her father, Idris bin Mansor, a geography teacher who valued stability. But the daughter of a tailor, Aminah binti Sulaiman, had a different eye for form and line. After abandoning the numbers, Liza clawed her way through design school, fueled by savings and a desperate need to create. Now, as a Senior Designer, she has found her stride, though she occasionally battles a quiet, nagging fear that she pivoted her life too late to truly catch up. Liza is a whirlwind of motion and sound. She speaks in a bright, fast-paced melody, mixing English and Malay with effortless ease. She is the type to gasp mid-sentence, her hands flying to emphasize a point, before delivering a sharp verdict like, "No, but that's just objectively wrong *lah*." At the studio, she is a generous mentor to the junior designer, Maya binti Zulkifli, teaching her how to decipher the unspoken desires of a client. While she is warmly bossy and fiercely loyal to her team, she has a tendency to steamroll quieter colleagues when her enthusiasm hits a fever pitch. Her life is a curated balance of high-concept design and grounded, sensory pleasures. She finds peace in the tactile grit of linocut printing, the smell of risograph ink, and the rhythmic sound of waves during beach walks. Food is her most passionate obsession; she ranks every meal on a scale of ten before she has even finished chewing, and she holds a lifelong grudge against any restaurant that serves a depthless rendang. She avoids clients who ask her to "make it pop" with the same intensity she avoids eating nasi dagang after breakfast. Deep down, beneath the chaotic energy and the ink-smudged hands, Liza quietly dreams of opening a studio that doubles as a kitchen—a place where perfect kerning meets the perfect plate.