What I’ve Learned About the Role of a Web Designer After a Decade in the Field
I’ve been working as a web designer for over ten years, long enough to see the role misunderstood from almost every angle. Some people think a web designer’s job ends with making things look good. Others assume it’s all technical wizardry. In my experience, the real value sits somewhere in between, and it usually only becomes obvious after something goes wrong.
One of the first hard lessons I learned came from a project early in my career for a small service business. The owner was thrilled with the visual direction we’d chosen—custom layouts, bold typography, the works. A few weeks after launch, he called me frustrated. Customers were visiting the site, but they weren’t contacting him. When I sat down and watched real people use the site, the issue was clear. They liked how it looked, but they didn’t know where to go next. That experience reshaped how I approach design. A site that doesn’t guide people clearly isn’t finished, no matter how polished it appears.
A few years later, I inherited a project from another designer who had focused heavily on trends. Everything was built around effects that were popular at the time. It looked impressive during presentations, but maintaining it was a nightmare. Minor updates broke layouts, and simple changes took hours. The client ended up spending several thousand dollars just to stabilize things. Stepping into that mess reinforced something I already suspected: a good web designer thinks about what happens after launch, not just before it.
I’ve also seen the damage caused when designers don’t ask enough questions. I once worked with a business owner who insisted on copying a competitor’s site almost element for element. As a designer, it would’ve been easy to comply and move on. Instead, I pushed back, because their business model and customers were completely different. We adjusted the structure to reflect how their clients actually made decisions. The result wasn’t flashy, but it worked far better for their day-to-day operations.
One of the most common mistakes I see is designers prioritizing their own taste over the user’s experience. I’ve made that mistake myself. Clean, minimal designs can be effective, but only if they still communicate clearly. When essential details are stripped away in the name of aesthetics, the business pays the price through confused customers and missed opportunities.
From a professional standpoint, a web designer’s real job is problem-solving. Visual skill matters, but understanding behavior matters more. You need to know how people scan a page, what questions they’re trying to answer, and how much patience they actually have. Those insights don’t come from software tutorials; they come from watching real users struggle and learning from it.
After a decade in this field, I’ve become far less interested in trends and far more interested in outcomes. The best compliment I get isn’t that a site looks great. It’s when a client tells me their customers seem more confident, conversations start further along, and fewer things need explaining. That’s usually a sign the design is doing its job quietly, which, in my experience, is exactly what a good web designer should aim for.
One kitchen stands out in my memory because the homeowner couldn’t understand why her floors always felt tacky. She mopped every two days—sometimes more when the kids were home. The moment I stepped onto the hardwood, I knew she was dealing with product buildup. Once I broke down the layers with a neutral cleaner and reset the floor, she told me it felt like she’d just had the entire house refinished. It’s a common mistake I see in Downers Grove homes: more detergent, more effort, and somehow a worse result.
