20+ Years of Design: The Biggest Lessons I’ve Learned Along the Way

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Here’s the thing nobody tells you when you start out in design: you’re going to be bad at it for a while. And not just, “Oh, I made a small mistake” bad—I’m talking full-on, what-was-I-thinking, make-you-cringe-years-later bad. But you push through it, you learn, you get better, and before you know it, you’ve been in the game for twenty years and have very strong opinions on kerning.

I’ve seen design trends rise and fall, software come and go, and clients cycle through the infamous “Can you make it pop?” nonsense like clockwork. And through it all, I’ve learned a few things. Some the easy way, some the hard way.

So if you’re a designer—whether you’re just starting out or deep into your career—consider this a roadmap, a warning, and a bit of group therapy all rolled into one.

1. Your First Work Will Be Terrible

You ever go back and look at your earliest design work? If you haven’t, don’t. It’s like reading your old Facebook statuses from 2009—painful, embarrassing, and full of choices you can’t explain.

I still remember one of my first logo projects. I thought I was hot stuff, fresh out of school, ready to revolutionize the industry. I put together some overcomplicated, over-stylized mess of a logo that had three different typefaces, a drop shadow, and a gradient that looked like I lost a fight with Photoshop. I thought it was art. The client looked at me like I had personally insulted their ancestors.

But here’s the thing: that awful design was necessary. Nobody comes out of the gate designing like Saul Bass. You have to make bad work first, because that’s how you learn what doesn’t work.

Lesson: Your early work is supposed to be bad. The only mistake is thinking you don’t need to improve.

2. Design Trends Are Fun, But Fundamentals Are Forever

I have lived through so many design trends. Skeuomorphism, flat design, long shadows, brutalism, neumorphism—we’ve tried everything. And you know what? Most of it won’t last.

I remember when everyone thought bevel-and-emboss effects were the height of sophistication. Then came glossy web 2.0 buttons, which were practically illegal to leave off a website in 2008. Then it was flat design, then gradients made a comeback, and on and on we go.

But the one thing that never goes out of style? Good composition. Clean typography. Balanced layouts. Thoughtful use of white space.

You can chase trends all you want, but if you don’t understand the basics, your work will always feel like a knockoff of whatever is popular at the moment.

Lesson: Trends come and go, but good design principles will outlast all of them.

3. Clients Have No Idea What They Want (Even When They Think They Do)

If I had a dollar for every time a client told me, “I want something clean and modern,” and then handed me reference images that looked like a Microsoft Word clip-art explosion, I’d be retired by now.

The truth is, most clients don’t know how to articulate what they actually want. They’ll throw around words like “bold,” “edgy,” or “a mix between Apple and Nike but with a little Google in there.” You’ll nod, take notes, and realize they just described three completely different aesthetics.

This is where you have to play detective. Instead of taking their vague feedback at face value, ask better questions.

“When you say ‘bold,’ do you mean high contrast? Thick typography? Bright colors?”
“When you say ‘modern,’ do you mean minimalistic? Sleek? Tech-inspired?”
“Can you show me three examples of designs you like?”

Because if you just say, “Got it,” and start designing, you’re setting yourself up for a disaster.

Lesson: Clients don’t speak design language. It’s your job to translate their nonsense into something usable.

4. Great Design Isn’t About Looking Pretty—It’s About Working Well

Early in my career, I thought design was all about aesthetics. I wanted to make things beautiful. But after years of watching “beautiful” designs flop in the real world, I learned something: function beats form, every time.

You can make the most visually stunning website ever, but if nobody can figure out where the buttons are, you’ve failed. You can create a gorgeous poster, but if the text is hard to read, it’s useless.

Great design solves problems first, then looks good second. If it does both? That’s the sweet spot.

Lesson: Aesthetics matter, but functionality always comes first.

5. You’ll Spend More Time Explaining Your Work Than Designing It

Nobody warns you about this, but design is 50% making things, 50% explaining why those things work.

If you just present a design and say, “Here you go,” you’re asking for pointless revisions. If you don’t explain why something is the way it is, clients will assume it’s random—and they’ll start making suggestions.

And you do not want to be stuck in the “Can we try five different versions just to see?” spiral.

The solution? Sell your work.

Instead of: “Here’s your logo.”
Say: “This typeface was chosen because it feels approachable but still professional, which aligns with your brand.”
Instead of: “Here’s the website layout.”
Say: “I’ve placed the CTA here because heatmaps show users naturally focus on this section first.”

When you show that every decision is intentional, people are less likely to question it.

Lesson: If you don’t explain your choices, clients will assume they’re up for debate.

6. If You’re Not Charging Enough, You’re Attracting the Worst Clients

Early on, I thought keeping my prices low would get me more work. And I was right—but not in a good way.

Here’s what happened:

The lower I charged, the more demanding the clients were.
The ones who balked at my price were the ones who expected infinite revisions.
The clients who paid the least took up the most time.

Meanwhile, the best clients I’ve ever worked with? They paid me more and respected my time way more. They trusted my expertise because they saw me as a professional, not just a “Photoshop person.”

Signs you’re undercharging:

You feel resentful every time you start a new project.
You’re working way too many hours for way too little money.
Your clients don’t see you as a partner—just a pair of hands.

At one point, I doubled my rates just to see what would happen. Not only did I not lose clients—I got better ones.

Lesson: If you price yourself like a cheap designer, you’ll attract cheap clients.

7. A Client Who Won’t Sign a Contract is a Client Who Won’t Pay You

If I had a nickel for every time a client said, “Oh, we don’t need a contract—I’m good for it,” I’d have exactly zero nickels, because those clients never paid.

Let me be clear:
No contract? No work.

It doesn’t matter if they seem nice. It doesn’t matter if they’re a friend of a friend. If there’s no contract, you’re leaving yourself wide open for scope creep, late payments, and nonsense like, “I thought this price included five extra logo variations.”

A contract isn’t just to protect you—it actually makes the whole project smoother. It sets clear expectations from the start so nobody can pretend they didn’t know what they were getting.

What goes in every contract?

Project scope: What’s included, what’s extra.
Payment terms: How much is due upfront, when the final payment is due.
Revision policy: How many rounds before they pay extra.
Kill fee: What happens if they cancel mid-project.

And if they push back on signing one? Big red flag.

Lesson: If they won’t sign a contract, they’re already planning to screw you over.

8. You’re Not Just a Designer—You’re a Salesperson, Whether You Like It or Not

Nobody tells you this when you start out, but half of design is sales. I don’t mean selling products—I mean selling your ideas, your expertise, your decisions.

I used to think great work spoke for itself. That if I just made something good enough, the client would see the genius and sign off immediately. That’s not how this works. That’s not how this ever works.

Here’s what happens if you just present a design with no explanation:

The client doesn’t understand why you made certain choices.
They start questioning everything.
They pick apart random details instead of evaluating the design as a whole.
Before you know it, you’re on revision #37, wondering where your life went wrong.

The difference between a designer who gets stuck in revision hell and one who gets sign-off on the first or second round? The ability to sell the work.

You don’t just show the design—you walk them through why it works. You explain how it aligns with their goals, how it solves their problems, how every decision was made for a reason. When clients see that everything has intent, they stop feeling the need to micromanage.

Lesson: If you can’t explain your work, you’re letting the client make up their own reasons to change it.

9. Feedback is Not a Personal Attack

This one took me way too long to learn.

Early in my career, every piece of client feedback felt like a punch to the gut. I poured hours into a project, only to hear:

“Hmm, it’s not what I expected.”
“I don’t know… can we try something else?”
“It’s missing something, but I don’t know what.”

Every time, I’d take it personally. Like they were saying I wasn’t good enough. Like they were attacking me, not the work.

Here’s the truth: clients aren’t designers. They don’t always have the vocabulary to articulate what’s wrong, and half the time, they don’t even know why something isn’t working for them. That’s where your job comes in.

Instead of getting defensive, ask better questions.

“What specifically isn’t working for you?”
“Do you feel like it’s too formal? Too playful? Too crowded?”
“Can you show me an example of what feels right to you?”

Most of the time, their feedback isn’t saying your design is bad. It’s saying they don’t fully see their vision in it yet. Your job is to bridge that gap.

Lesson: Feedback is not an attack—it’s an opportunity to refine the work.

10. You Will Outgrow Some of Your Own Work—That’s a Good Thing

Nothing is weirder than looking at an old project and thinking, What the hell was I doing?

I once had a client come back years later, asking me to update a logo I had designed for them. When I opened the file, my first thought was: Did I seriously think this was good? The spacing was weird. The font choice was questionable. The whole thing just felt off.

But back when I made it, I thought it was solid work.

This is what growth looks like. If you’re constantly improving, your old work should look outdated to you. It’s not a sign that you were bad—it’s a sign that you’re better now.

Instead of feeling embarrassed, embrace it. Your past work got you to where you are now. And five years from today, you’ll probably look back at what you’re making right now and see flaws you don’t notice yet. That’s normal.

Lesson: If your old work doesn’t make you cringe a little, you’re not improving fast enough.

11. Learning New Tools is Optional—Until It’s Not

You don’t have to chase every new tool that comes out. There’s always going to be some new design software that people swear is the future of the industry. If you tried to master every single one, you’d never actually get any work done.

But there’s a difference between avoiding shiny-object syndrome and being stubborn about learning new things.

I used to be a Photoshop-and-Illustrator-for-everything kind of guy. Then UI design started shifting to Sketch. I ignored it. Then Figma came along. I ignored that, too. “I don’t need to learn this—I already have my process.”

Yeah. That was dumb.

Eventually, I gave in and learned Figma, and within a week, I realized I had been wasting time for years.

The industry will evolve. Tools will change. And the designers who refuse to adapt? They get left behind.

Lesson: You don’t have to learn every new tool, but you do have to evolve with the industry.

12. AI Isn’t Replacing Designers—But Designers Who Use AI Will Replace Those Who Don’t

Let’s address the elephant in the room: AI in design. Some people are panicking, convinced that Midjourney and ChatGPT are about to steal all our jobs. Others are ignoring it entirely, pretending it’s just a passing trend. Both of these approaches are wrong.

Here’s the reality: AI isn’t coming for your job. But a designer who knows how to use AI efficiently? They’ll work five times faster than you. And speed matters.

I’ve started integrating AI into my workflow—not to replace creativity, but to speed up the boring stuff.

Need 20 color palette ideas? AI generates them instantly.
Need to resize 30 images? AI handles it in seconds.
Need to generate placeholder text that isn’t just “Lorem Ipsum”? AI can give you copy that actually makes sense.

The point isn’t to let AI design for you. It’s to remove the tedious, time-consuming nonsense so you can focus on the real work.

The designers who ignore AI entirely? They’ll fall behind. The ones who rely on it too much? They’ll become replaceable. The sweet spot is knowing when to use it as a tool, not as a crutch.

Lesson: AI isn’t the enemy—inefficiency is.

13. Clients Who Want Unlimited Revisions Will Never Be Happy

I once had a client who requested 24 rounds of revisions on a logo. Twenty-four. At some point, they weren’t even making real changes—they were just shuffling elements around out of indecision.

By revision #18, I should’ve been charging them rent.

Here’s the thing: endless revisions aren’t about design. They’re about control. Clients who ask for revision after revision usually don’t know what they want, and instead of admitting that, they just keep tweaking things, hoping something magically “feels right.”

The fix? Set revision limits upfront. Make it clear that your price includes two or three rounds of revisions, and after that, it’s an additional charge. The moment a client realizes more revisions cost money, they suddenly become way more decisive.

And if a client pushes back on a revision limit before the project even starts? That’s a red flag. Fire them early. Save yourself the headache.

Lesson: A client who asks for unlimited revisions is a client who will never be satisfied.

14. The Fastest Way to Burn Out is to Take Every Project That Comes Your Way

There was a time when I said yes to everything. It didn’t matter what the project was—if someone was willing to pay me, I took the job.

Logo for a dog-walking startup? Yes.
Business cards for some guy’s sketchy pyramid scheme? Sure.
Flyer for a local cover band that only plays early 2000s pop-punk? Absolutely.

At first, it felt great—money was coming in, my schedule was full, I was working nonstop. But within a few months, I was exhausted and completely uninspired.

Here’s what I didn’t understand back then: Not all money is good money. Some projects drain you more than they’re worth. Some clients aren’t worth the stress.

When I started being pickier about the projects I took on—saying no to the ones that didn’t fit my skills, interests, or sanity level—I actually made more money and enjoyed my work more.

Lesson: Just because someone wants to pay you doesn’t mean you have to take the job.

15. If You Don’t Take Breaks, Your Work Will Suffer

There’s this toxic mindset in creative industries that if you’re not constantly grinding, you’re falling behind. Work harder, work longer, never stop hustling.

That’s garbage.

There was a time when I worked 16-hour days, back-to-back projects, never taking a real break. You know what happened? My designs got worse. I wasn’t seeing things clearly anymore. I was too tired to be creative. My brain felt like a browser with 50 tabs open, running on 2% battery.

Then, I took an actual vacation. No laptop, no emails, just a full reset. And when I came back? My work was better. I had new ideas, fresh energy, and actual motivation again.

Breaks aren’t lazy. They’re necessary. If you never step away, your work will start to look like you’re just going through the motions.

Lesson: Burnout doesn’t make you a better designer—it makes you a worse one.

16. If You’re the Smartest Person in the Room, You’re in the Wrong Room

For a while, I got comfortable. I was good at what I did, I had solid clients, my work was getting attention—I thought I had it figured out.

Then I started hanging around designers who were way better than me. And suddenly, I realized how much I didn’t know.

Here’s the thing: if you’re the best designer in your circle, you’ve stopped growing. The fastest way to improve isn’t watching more tutorials or reading more blogs—it’s surrounding yourself with people who are ahead of you.

Find a mentor. Get into communities where people push your skills further. Work with people who challenge your thinking. If you stay comfortable, your work will stay stagnant.

Lesson: Growth doesn’t happen in comfort zones. Level up your circle.

Conclusion: The Only Thing That Really Matters

After 20+ years in design, if I had to sum it all up in one sentence, it’d be this:

Keep learning, keep adapting, and keep raising your standards.

The best designers aren’t the most talented. They’re the ones who never stop improving.

Wherever you are in your career—just starting out, mid-level, seasoned pro—don’t get comfortable. Push yourself. Take on new challenges. Learn from people who are ahead of you. And most importantly, don’t lose the love for the work.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what keeps you going.

—Bogdan Migulski