Something I've been trying to do of late is think about a certain person instead of a generic "user" when designing. Today's user is James.

Lately, I've been spending a lot of time just going through well-designed sites. Naturally, I've been going through websites that would be familiar to most designers (most people?): Linear, Notion, Vercel, Stripe, all the big names that are synonymous with great design.

But I've also spent a lot of time on a lot of lesser-known websites, including lots of designer portfolios. Brian Lovin (himself a brilliant designer) has a collection of links to interesting design/design engineer portfolios at https://brianlovin.com/sites, and I've gone through at least a quarter of them at this point.

Just as an aside, my favourite portfolio so far is Edwin Morris's (https://ehmorris.com/), it's well designed, and it gives off a sense of restraint that you can tell has been accumulated from years of reinforcing the twin design truths:

1. Less is — almost always — more.
2. Whitespace is good. Lots of whitespace is also really good.

I don't have an angle or a specific goal as such as I explore these sites, I've just been taking them in. Lingering on a smooth hover transition, appreciating a warm palette, spending some time on a nice landing page (Daylight's is so good! https://daylightcomputer.com/). I suppose my aim is to acquire some kind of subliminal feel for good design by consuming multiple instances of it.

One thing that I've come to realise lately is that the only person who will ever spend time poring over the look and feel of a button is the designer. James will probably click (or tap) that button and go on without stopping to think about it. I take the time to notice the button only because that is why I am there, someone on the site for more practical reasons is going to be trying to achieve their goal and leave the site as quickly as possible.

James will scroll through the landing page you spent nights tweaking to perfection in a matter of seconds. He will scan the text, looking for what he can gain by using your service, and move on to the next step of the journey if there is gain to be had. Not a thought spared for the cool pastel burgundy you've used sparingly to make sure James's attention is drawn to the right piece of information on the landing page when he arrives there.

And yet, the designer must obsess over everything. The look and feel of that button, that colour palette, that interaction, that hover experience. The way the logo looks, the motion as the user scrolls, the right hierarchy for text, and the font family. Is that footer too small? Is the CTA not clear enough? Does the button communicate action to James? Is the navigation clear enough?

The point of good design is that it is not obvious to James because you've spent so much time getting it right. The pastel burgundy used sparingly is supposed to help James find the right information and move on without stopping to admire it. It's working, precisely because it's not obvious.

Every well-designed website (app, game, service, whatever) is the product of someone (or a group of people) with good taste poring over details that James will only spend a few seconds on.