Designs on life

At Ohio State, when Kaiser realized she didn’t want to work in her major, she forged a new path. After graduation, when COVID-19 left her jobless, she founded her own design firm, offering a Gen Z sensibility to pro sports and indie shops.  

Everyone in Philadelphia is baking. The sun is oppressive. And the humidity is just obnoxious. Standing on her rooftop patio, with its view of her neighborhood and all those tall Philly buildings, Tovah Kaiser ’19 seems unbothered. Still, she offers, “Back inside?” with a serene smile. Inside is her brownstone walk-up in Center City, a two-song stroll from her favorite bagel shop.  

The studio apartment is super cool. Literally. Figuratively. Plants and framed art. Projector TV. Guitar in the corner. Architecture magazines and art books. A conducive environment for evoking the necessary inspiration she pours into the design firm she founded, Tov Creative.  

All her friends are at “the beach,” the Jersey Shore, this July Fourth weekend. So Kaiser will use the next few hours to get ideas by walking her city, experiencing her “real-life Pinterest.” 

“I’m always taking pictures,” says the 26-year-old creative director, entrepreneur and brand strategist. “I find inspiration anywhere—an A-frame sign on a corner, a sticker on a fire hydrant. I took a picture of a moving truck the other day. I was like, that’s kinda cool.” 

Kaiser loves Philly. The attitude. The people. The anonymity. There’s also the unpredictability. The car horns, the throngs of pedestrians and packed streets. All ages, colors, dress codes going their own way. “It’s where the old meets the new,” she says, whipping her head around as she strides along 16th. 

You can see it all while trying to keep up with Kaiser, from the Liberty Bell and Reading Terminal Market to trendy brick art galleries and specialty grocers, one of which she ducks in for pics of vibrant food labels. “Visuals matter,” she says. “Gen Z especially appreciates design. Maybe we’re easily influenced. I don’t think I am, but we’re always taking a lot in. That probably influences our style.” 

Another thing about Philly? Gritty energy. “The East Coast has a different vibe,” she says. “A little more intense. Faster paced. In Philly, there’s no BS. We’re just doing what we gotta do. There’s a lot of personality.” 

She could be describing herself. Kaiser is driven but cool and charming—just ask anyone who knows her. And she shares another trait with Philly. “I’m definitely a bit of an underdog,” she says. “It’s like, I don’t have a design degree; I don’t have a business degree. I’m just making it happen. I like proving people wrong. I’m like, just watch, you’ll see.” 

Walking these streets, she devours the vibe, channeling it into an ever-expanding portfolio of clients, from professional sports teams to sushi restaurants. Major brands to mom and pops. “It’s great to see your work on say, a giant billboard, but I enjoy getting an email from an ice cream shop owner telling me they love their design just as much,” she says. “It’s important to them. It’s going to help them. I love that.” 

She built her design studio much like she navigates the streets of Philly: going by feel. And it appears effortless, even when it’s not. 

Welcome to Disney World 

At 17, Kaiser didn’t know the first thing about Ohio State. “My dad and I were at the Columbus airport for my visit Googling what the mascot was,” she remembers. “I’m like, ‘I think it’s a horse?’” 

Give her grace. She was bred to attend Temple University in Philadelphia, where her dad, Ken Kaiser, worked his way up from an entry-level job to become senior vice president and chief operating officer. Tovah herself took art classes there growing up and considered attending its Tyler School of Art and Architecture. Still, she applied to numerous schools. But with each visit, Dad wasn’t feeling it. Then they arrived at Ohio State. “He was blown away,” she laughs. “He kept calling it Disney World. 

“Growing up, when I pictured college life, I pictured Ohio State. Other places didn’t have that ‘Oval moment.’ I remember we snuck in the ’Shoe, and it was amazing. But also, Columbus. I remember walking around the Short North. It was just … I was impressed.” 

Still, it was far from home. The first few days weren’t easy, but her roommate—New Jersey’s Gabrielle Selkow ’19—became a close friend immediately. The two extroverts dove into campus life, joining sororities, student organizations and making friends everywhere.  

“We meshed,” says Selkow, a Fisher College of Business graduate. “She’s so outgoing and accepting of people. She doesn’t care who you are, where you come from. Her personality attracts people. And honestly, she’s fearless.” 

As a student, Kaiser chose the Knowlton School of Architecture where she fell in love with midcentury aesthetics and became skilled at making 3D designs and presenting ideas. But mostly, she learned to sweat. “Knowlton is intense,” she says. “The main thing I took from architecture school was, I can grind.” 

Only thing was, following an internship after her sophomore year, she didn’t want to be an architect. “I remember a career fair, walking around thinking, ‘I don’t want to do any of this.’ It was discouraging, but I never panicked; I just kept going.” 

Being at Ohio State, she had options. Hanging out with friends one night, someone suggested an entrepreneur class through Fisher because she was a budding one already. She’d create and sell T-shirts, watercolor paintings and beautifully custom-painted jean jackets, building a clientele off Instagram. 

“I had these schemes,” she says with a laugh. “I created this little brand, High Life Denim. I’d buy jackets for $20, paint a design and sell them for $150. I was like, I’m rich!” 

The entrepreneurship course was taught by Paul Reeder ’83, executive director of Ohio State’s Center for Innovation Strategies, and led students through startup accelerator life. Each student created and developed a business idea, but as the course progressed, the ideas were whittled away until a final one, the best one, survived.  

That semester, it was Kaiser’s, an app called Decide, which tapped into Gen Z’s fear of missing out and indecision. So on a Friday night, what do you watch on Netflix? What do you eat in the Short North? Tap Decide and get answers from a friend group. 

“It was an awesome idea,” Reeder says. “It showed her mindset. She didn’t start the class to develop an app. It wasn’t about her agenda. It was about listening to people and coming up with an idea to solve a problem. She was one of my favorite students. Super creative with no barriers of ‘I can’t.’ That’s such an important mindset.” 

She may have won only a used Polaroid camera, but the validation was priceless.  

During that time, as a senior, Kaiser also joined Fisher’s Business Builders Entrepreneurship Club, which brought in local business leaders. At one point, representatives from Columbus’ Civitas marketing agency impressed Kaiser enough for her to contact the firm. 

A conversation later, Kaiser had an internship. Upon graduation, a job as a designer, using her 3D skills while apprenticing as a graphic designer. Though it wasn’t moving back to Philly, the trendy warehouse-style office, complete with skateboard ramp, was an exciting career start.  

She just wasn’t prepared for a pandemic to ruin it. 

From ‘gutted’ to glory 

It’s March at America First Field, and the Utah Royals, a National Women’s Soccer League team, are set to play their home opener. Atop the stadium, whipping in the Salt Lake City wind, is a flag adorned with the team’s crest, a fierce crowned lioness. Under the flag stands the crest’s creator: Tovah Kaiser. 

“That was cool,” she says. “I don’t bask in accomplishments much, but there are moments where I’m like, nobody else is doing this.” 

It was monumental for Kaiser and the Royals, who were returning to Utah with a new team after the previous franchise bolted for Kansas City. A young team with a fresh look born out of a lot of sleepless nights. 

In late 2022, the Royals brought on Tov Creative—led by Kaiser and senior designer Sophie Greenbaum—to create logos and brand identity for the team. Planning to announce its relaunch in early 2023, the Royals needed designs after parting ways with previous firms. Tov Creative was selected based on the recommendation of an investor, the father of one of Kaiser’s childhood friends who knew she had the skill and collaborative demeanor.  

Two months and 20 iterations later, Kaiser’s team delivered designs the organization loved. Not only was the whirlwind turnaround challenging, but then-Royals President Michelle Hyncik says Kaiser had to incorporate feedback from, well, everyone: investors, fans, ownership and front office. 

“She was masterful in synthesizing all those inputs,” Hyncik says. “She’s the ultimate collaborator. She does a remarkable job of ensuring a client’s vision is paramount.” 

Though Kaiser was only two years into her agency, at no point did Hyncik see a trace of inexperience or anxiety. Call it an inspired poker face, a composed persona she wears flawlessly despite what might be squirming beneath the surface.  

“I remember our first meeting. I’m in my (first) janky apartment in Philly, trying to hide the background,” Kaiser laughs. “It was stressful; it was high stakes; I lost a lot of sleep. But when you go to the stadium, it’s everywhere, on everything. It felt good.” 

Kaiser first visited the team in March 2023 when the Royals announced their return, beginning with a Women’s Empowerment Luncheon. One of the missions of the women-led club is promoting women on and off the field. “We want to give women a platform,” Hyncik says. “Having Tovah and a women-led design team was essential to what we’re building.”  

During her time in Utah, Kaiser—a lifelong soccer player—also made a connection with the Boston NWSL team, which begins play in 2026, and she designed its preliminary crest and brand identity. “It’s been amazing working with powerful women, being inspired by them,” Kaiser says. “I love working with female entrepreneurs also; there’s a sense of comradery. If I can contribute to advancing women in any way, that’s exciting. I have strong women in my life—my mom is a great example, and I’ve always been encouraged.  

“But I’ve felt the ‘not being heard,’ being overlooked, and it bothers me. There have been people who are like, ‘Who’s your boss? Who’s in charge?’ I’m like, ‘It’s me—you have a problem with that? Move along.’ I don’t get intimidated. If I’m the only woman in the room, I don’t care. I just know I need to garner respect in how I carry myself.”  

Along with the soccer franchises, Tov Creative’s client portfolio is growing and profoundly diverse, with businesses that dot the East Coast and range from ice cream shops and pet apps to geologists. Her success comes from grinding, and she doesn’t take it for granted because she knows what could happen. About a year into her time at Civitas, the COVID-19 pandemic hit like a wrecking ball, and Kaiser was out of a job. 

“Everything came crashing down,” Kaiser says. “I had this fear (before COVID) that I’d get fired or laid off. So I’d be the first one in to make coffee, stay late, trying super hard, always worried. I guess it was imposter syndrome.  

“Then they told us they were shutting down for a bit, and I was laid off. It was brutal. I didn’t have a next move. All my friends were gone. I had to break my lease and move back home. Looking back, it was the best thing that happened to me, but at the time, I was gutted.” 

Still, people wanted to keep working with her. One was Derek Higaki ’09, who mentored her graphic design skills as chief creative officer at Civitas. He continued offering advice and freelance work. “She’s a joy to work with,” says Higaki, now chief creative officer of the New York City-based Label Maker creative agency. “She’s so driven and yet the coolest person, no semblance of arrogance. That’s rare in the design world. It’s refreshing to work with someone so capable and yet so down-to-earth.” 

Higaki says he admires how she got a business up and thriving in the wake of the pandemic. He’s also impressed with the versatility of her work, often delivering a fresh Gen Z taste but tailored to a client’s appetites.  

“You have something as rigid as a professional sports team logo but then with Tov Creative’s branding, you see something totally different. You see her personal aesthetic,” he says. “You see those two pieces and how different they look. Both brand identities serve different purposes for different audiences but achieve the same goal. It’s super impressive. There’s such great diversity in the work she presents.”  

Higaki says he often sees Gen Z designers throw away the classic rules, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. When he met her, Kaiser may not have been versed in graphic design, but she had excellent instincts she’s diligently honed.  

Kaiser says she draws on her architecture background and combines vintage aesthetics with a Gen Z flair. “When I design, am I breaking the rules? Maybe,” she says. “But I don’t know the rules, and I think that works in my favor. I just do what makes sense and looks cool.” 

And of course, she’s fearless. Mostly. 

Genuine love 

It’s Monday night at Fergie’s Pub, and the upstairs is packed for open mic night. The first two dudes on stage play old rock tunes while the audience orders drinks, stares into phones or chats. Kaiser takes the stage third, cracks a joke and begins strumming Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m on Fire.” Far from Springsteen’s raspy crackle, Kaiser’s voice is velvety smooth, casting a spell on the crowd. It’s quiet as heads bob with smiles all around as she weaves her way through the ballad.  

Oh, oh, oh, I’m on fire. 

When she closes, resounding applause. 

“I genuinely love singing; I love music,” she says, “But it’s the one thing that makes me nervous in a way I don’t normally get.” 

In fact, those nerves silenced her voice for years, and only those closest to her knew the gift that lay dormant. “When we were kids, we had a guitar teacher who wanted us to sing,” Kaiser’s brother, Zack, says. “I can’t sing to save my life, but Tovah had perfect pitch. It was like, add another talent to the list.” 

In typical fashion, Tovah pushed past those fears when the time was right. “Freshman year at Ohio State, I had these guys on my floor who were musicians,” she says. “We were all hanging out one night, they were playing, and I just started singing. They were like, ‘oh wow.’ And we’d hang out and make music together.”  

That led to regularly playing with musicians around campus, Columbus open mic nights and even a gig in Cleveland. “I used to make her sing for me freshman year,” Selkow says. “I have videos of her sitting on the bed and playing her guitar. She was shy about it at first, but she’s really grown into it.” 

Video: Hear Tovah Kaiser sing

Since those college nights, Kaiser has begun writing and recording her own songs, an alt-indie sound available on streaming services, and even playing her own gigs. Though her main focus is Tov Creative, who knows? The Utah Royals recently brought her back to write their team’s anthem. 

“She’s just so artistically talented all around,” says senior graphic designer Greenbaum, also a longtime friend. “And she has no restraints; it’s so inspiring. It pushes me to work harder on other aspects of my life. I think, ‘Tovah’s doing this; I can do whatever I want.’”  

Singing, designing, delighting clients and audiences—the future is bright. It’s just not quite focused. Kaiser doesn’t do 10-year plans or vision boards. Maybe next year she’ll be in New York City. Or LA. Singing, designing, whatever. So long as she’s working with people and creating artistically, the grind won’t stop.  

“Success isn’t a monetary goal for me,” she says. “I just want to keep building momentum, get more opportunities. More than anything, it’s about being creative and having freedom. That’s what matters.”