By the end of the day, you'll have scrolled past 500 brands. Tomorrow, you'll remember none. Not because your feed is broken, but because the brands are. Most are posting without purpose, reacting without strategy and creating without direction. I'm the one who changes that from the inside, building strategies that stick, turning data into decisions and making brands impossible to ignore.
WHO?
I'm María Hernández. I work at the intersection of data and creativity because one without the other is just noise. From managing the social strategy of a multinational to co-founding a branding project from scratch, I've learned that the best content doesn't feel like content, it feels like something worth stopping for.
Prosegur is one of the world’s leading private security companies, present in 36 countries across 5 continents, with more than 180,000 people behind every operation. When a company this size turns 50, it doesn’t just celebrate. It redefines itself. My job was to make that shift visible on social and make every post feel like culture, not just communication.
Most brands spend years searching for their big idea. Prosegur had one written in the name all along. PRO, the word that precedes every leader, every pioneer, every step forward. The campaign didn’t invent a concept. It named what Prosegur had been for five decades: 50 years being PRO.
Each carousel pairs two images: one from the past, one from today. The first shows what being PRO in people, innovation or security looked like 50 years ago. The second shows what it looks like now. No explanation needed. The contrast does the work.
Two slides. Two realities. The first shows something perfectly fine: conventional, expected, good enough. The second shows what PRO actually looks like. The distance between the two images is the whole point.
Prosegur moves 10% of the world’s cash. For a company of that scale, launching a social media campaign targeting a younger audience wasn’t just a content challenge, it was a repositioning challenge. Cash is Cool was Prosegur’s bold bet: turn a product everyone uses but nobody talks about into something worth following.
The brief wasn’t to defend cash. It was to reframe it. Stop competing with digital payments on utility, and start winning on identity, privacy and autonomy. The generation that pays with their phone doesn’t hate cash. They just never saw it as cool.
Everyday moments. Each one turns a real situation into a reason to keep cash close. No preaching, just content that makes you think fair point.
A series that turns the most overlooked cash moments into something worth celebrating. Not a product, a feeling.
Brickz is a real estate newsletter built to make one of the most complex and volatile industries actually understandable. Not just for professionals, for anyone trying to make sense of it. When the founder came to us, the brand already existed. The problem wasn’t the idea. It was the image.
The audience is young and the “Z” in the name says it all. But the subject matter is serious. That tension was the whole brief: build an identity credible enough to be trusted, but not so formal it loses the generation it was made for. Sophisticated, not stiff.
Four buildings, one letter. The ‘i’ in BRICKZ, isolated, rotated and mirrored, becomes a city block seen from above. Navy for the glass, orange for the brick, white for the page it lives on.
Gero Palacios is a professional golfer who doesn’t look like the cliché. No posturing, no pedestal. He competes at the highest standard and then goes home like anyone else. The challenge was to build a brand that made excellence feel like something you could get close to.
An eagle in golf means doing in two what takes others four. But the real insight wasn’t the score, it was the attitude behind it. No effort, no drama. Just someone who makes the impossible look like Tuesday. The brand was built around that energy: elite enough to command respect, relaxed enough to feel real. Eagle Territory became the space where the best don’t perform greatness, they just live it. And somehow, watching that, makes everyone feel like they could too.
The eagle wasn’t chosen for decoration. In golf, it’s the score that says you made it look easy. The mascot takes that energy and makes it human: cap on, club in hand, expression that says it all without saying a word. Not a symbol of tradition, a symbol of attitude.