You found us. That's not an accident.
About Evil B Creative
Welcome to Evil B Creative — a small Canadian art brand built on the belief that the objects around you should feel like they were made for you.
Not printed for everyone. Not designed by committee. Made by hand, one drawing at a time, by someone who genuinely cannot stop making things.
Trust me, I've tried.
The person behind the pen
I'm Daniella Girgenti. I live in Hamilton, Ontario with my husband, my kiddo, two cats named Edward and Henry, and a home office that is — I will not apologize for this — extremely organized. Labelled bins. A proper drafting table. A rolling cart of acrylic markers sorted by colour family.
I'm a communications strategist by day and an artist by early morning. I've always written. I've always made things. For a long time those two lives didn't overlap. Evil B Creative is what happens when they finally do.
I draw loose-lined, emotionally specific illustrations of the things that make up a life — women in motion, cats doing cat things, flowers that refuse to stay still, objects that carry memory. I draw them before the sun comes up and put them on things you'll actually use and actually love.
About the cat
You may have noticed the cat in our logo.
She was one of my very first drawings — before I knew I could draw, before Evil B had a name, before any of this existed. She's a little round, a little kawaii, a little imperfect.
And she's based on someone real.
Queen Beatrice was my first cat. My first baby. The first being I had to care for entirely on my own. She was sassy and regal and breathtakingly beautiful — feline in every sense of the word. She had opinions. She had presence. She walked into a room and owned it without trying.
She was, in other words, exactly the energy this brand was always going to have.
The logo cat stayed because she was there at the beginning. And some things you keep not because they're perfect but because they're true.
This one's for Bea.
The early hours
Evil B Creative started before dawn — in the quiet time when the desk lamp is on and the rest of the house is asleep. I've always done my best thinking there. My dad was the same way.
I'd been building this idea for years. But it was a daily drawing practice called Life in Lines — one doodle, one short essay, every single day — that finally made it real. I started it on April 1st, my birthday, because I needed something to look forward to.
A month later, my dad died.
He knew about Evil B before he died. He'd heard the plans, seen the sketches, understood exactly what I was trying to build. He used to reply to my early morning emails with "You smart!" and a reminder not to work too hard.
So I kept going. For him, and honestly for me — because stopping wasn't something either of us would have respected.
For those who feel things deeply
Evil B is for the ones who keep cards instead of throwing them away. Who hang a print because it says something they couldn't. Who buy a tote because it just feels like them.
If that's you — welcome. You're in the right place.