How Past Experiences Shape Your Design Career — Smashing Magazine

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Design career origin stories often sound clean and linear: a degree in Fine Arts, a lucky internship, or a first job that launches a linear, upward path. But what about those whose paths were not so straight? The ones who came from service, retail, construction, or even firefighting — the messy, winding paths that didn’t begin right out of design school — who learned service instincts long before learning design tools?

I earned my Associate in Science way later than planned, after 15 years in fine dining, which I once dismissed as a detour delaying my “real” career. But in hindsight, it was anything but. Those years built skills and instincts I still rely on daily — in meetings, design reviews, and messy mid-project pivots.

Table of Contents

Your Past Is Your Advantage

I still have the restaurant dream.

Whenever I’m overwhelmed or deep in a deadline, it comes back: I’m the only one running the restaurant floor. The grill is on fire. There’s no clean glassware. Everyone needs their check, their drink, and their table turned. I wake up sweating, and I ask myself, “Why am I still having restaurant nightmares 15 years into a design career?”

Because those jobs wired themselves into how I think and work.

Those years weren’t just a job but high-stakes training in adaptability, anticipation, and grace under pressure. They built muscle memory: ways of thinking, reacting, and solving problems that still appear daily in my design work. They taught me to adapt, connect with people, and move with urgency and grace.

But those same instincts rooted in nightmares can trip you up if you’re unaware. Speed can override thoughtfulness. Constant anticipation can lead to over-complication. The pressure to polish can push you to over-deliver too soon. Embracing your past also means examining it — recognizing when old habits serve you and when they don’t.

With reflection, those experiences can become your greatest advantage.

Lessons From The Line

These aren’t abstract comparisons. They’re instincts built through repetition and real-world pressure, and they show up daily in my design process.

Here are five moments from restaurant life that shaped how I think, design, and collaborate today.

1. Reading The Room

Reading a customer’s mood begins as soon as they sit down. Through years of trial and error, I refined my understanding of subtle cues, like seating delays indicating frustration or menus set aside, suggesting they want to enjoy cocktails. Adapting my approach based on these signals became instinctual, emerging from countless moments of observation.

What I Learned

The subtleties of reading a client aren’t so different in product design. Contexts differ, but the cues remain similar: project specifics, facial expressions, tone of voice, lack of engagement, or even the “word salad” of client feedback. With time, these signals become easier to spot, and you learn to ask better questions, challenge assumptions, or offer alternate approaches before misalignment grows. Whether a client is energized and all-in or hesitant and constrained, reading those cues early can make all the difference.

Those instincts — like constant anticipation and early intervention — served me well in fine dining, but can hinder the design process if I’m not in tune with how I’m reacting. Jumping in too early can lead to over-complicating the design process, solving problems that haven’t been voiced (yet), or stepping on others’ roles. I’ve had to learn to pause, check in with the team, and trust the process to unfold more collaboratively.

How I Apply This Today

  • Guide direction with focused options.
    Early on, share 2–3 meaningful variations, like style tiles or small component explorations, to shape the conversation and avoid overwhelm.
  • Flag misalignment fast.
    If something feels off, raise it early and loop in the right people.
  • Be intentional about workshop and deliverable formats.
    Structure or space? Depends on what helps the client open up and share.
  • Pause before jumping in.
    A sticky note on my screen (“Pause”) helps me slow down and check assumptions.
A close-up of an iMac screen with a yellow sticky note that says “PAUSE”.
A gentle reminder from my own workspace, a sticky note I keep on my screen to remind me to pause before reacting. (Large preview)

2. Speed Vs. Intentionality

In fine dining, multitasking wasn’t just helpful, it was survival. Every night demanded precision timing, orchestrating every meal step, from the first drink poured to the final dessert plated. The soufflé, for example, was a constant test. It takes precisely 45 minutes — no more, no less. If the guests lingered over appetizers or finished their entrées too early, that soufflé risked collapse.

But fine dining taught me how to handle that volatility. I learned to manage timing proactively, mastering small strategies: an amuse-bouche to buy the kitchen precious minutes, a complimentary glass of champagne to slow a too-quickly paced meal. Multitasking meant constantly adjusting in real-time, keeping a thousand tiny details aligned even when, behind the scenes, chaos loomed.

What I Learned

Multitasking is a given in product design, just in a different form. While the pressure is less immediate, it is more layered as designers often juggle multiple projects, overlapping timelines, differing stakeholder expectations, and evolving product needs simultaneously. That restaurant instinct to keep numerous plates spinning at the same time? It’s how I handle shifting priorities, constant Slack pings, regular Figma updates, and unexpected client feedback — without losing sight of the big picture.

The hustle and pace of fine dining hardwired me to associate speed with success. But in design, speed can sometimes undermine depth. Jumping too quickly into a solution might mean missing the real problem or polishing the wrong idea. I’ve learned that staying in motion isn’t always the goal. Unlike a fast-paced service window, product design invites experimentation and course correction. I’ve had to quiet the internal timer and lean into design with a slower, more intentional nature.

How I Apply This Today

  • Make space for inspiration.
    Set aside time for untasked exploration outside the norm — magazines, bookstores, architecture, or gallery visits — before jumping into design.
  • Build in pause points.
    Plan breaks between design rounds and schedule reviews after a weekend gap to return with fresh eyes.
  • Stay open to starting over.
    Let go of work that isn’t working, even full comps. Starting fresh often leads to better ideas.

3. Presentation Matters

Presentation isn’t just a finishing touch in fine dining — it’s everything. It’s the mint leaf delicately placed atop a dessert, the raspberry glace cascading across the perfectly off-centered espresso cake.

The presentation engages every sense: the smell of rare imported truffles on your truffle fries, or the meticulous choreography of four servers placing entrées in front of diners simultaneously, creating a collective “wow” moment. An excellent presentation shapes diners’ emotional connection with their meal — that experience directly impacts how generously they spend, and ultimately, your success.

A slice of flourless chocolate cake plated slightly off center, garnished with cocoa powder, chocolate drizzle, and a sprig of mint.
Decadent flourless chocolate cake, artfully plated just off center. A dusting of cocoa, chocolate drizzle, and a sprig of mint elevate the presentation. (Photo by Yura White via iStock) (Large preview)

What I Learned

A product design presentation, from the initial concept to the handoff, carries that same power. Introducing a new homepage design can feel mechanical or magical, depending entirely on how you frame and deliver it. Just like careful plating shapes a diner’s experience, clear framing and confident storytelling shape how design is received.

Beyond the initial introduction, explain the why behind your choices. Connect patterns to the organic elements of the brand’s identity and highlight how users will intuitively engage with each section. Presentation isn’t just about aesthetics; it helps clients connect with the work, understand its value, and get excited to share it.

The pressure to get everything right the first time, to present a pixel-perfect comp that “wows” immediately, is intense.

Sometimes, an excellent presentation isn’t about perfection — it’s about pacing, storytelling, and allowing the audience to see themselves in the work.

I’ve had to let go of the idea that polish is everything and instead focus on the why, describing it with clarity, confidence, and connection.

How I Apply This Today

  • Frame the story first.
    Lead with the “why” behind the work before showing the “what”. It sets the tone and invites clients into the design.
  • Keep presentations polished.
    Share fewer, more intentional concepts to reduce distractions and keep focus.
  • Skip the jargon.
    Clients aren’t designers. Use clear, relatable terms. Say “section” instead of “component,” or “repeatable element” instead of “pattern.”
  • Bring designs to life.
    Use motion, prototypes, and real content to add clarity, energy, and brand relevance.

A motion-forward style tile concept I created to introduce storytelling through micro animations, immersive color themes, and real content.

4. Collaboration Is The Backbone

In fine dining, teamwork isn’t just helpful — it’s essential. Every night, success depends entirely on collaboration. The hostess seats guests, the bartender crafts drinks, the chefs prepare dishes, bussers swiftly clear tables, dishwashers provide spotless glasses — each role is critical, and without one, everything falls apart. You quickly learn there’s no ego or question about whether you could do it better alone. You know that teamwork is the only way, which may mean temporarily stepping outside your role to buss your table or jump behind the dishwasher to get clean glasses. Fine dining is truly a well-oiled machine — everyone must trust and rely on one another entirely.

What I Learned

In product design, it’s easier to slip into a silo inadvertently. Unlike restaurants, it can feel natural to work independently, maintaining biases and assumptions, or pushing work forward without additional feedback. But great design thrives on intentional collaboration and shared accountability, especially within an agency setting. Collaborate early, not alone. Actively embracing your support system — joining a UX call even when you’re not officially invited — can give critical insights far before wireframes or comps are developed, helping you ask better questions and make smarter assumptions.

In restaurant service, stepping in unannounced to address an issue was seen as helpful, even necessary. But in design, jumping in without alignment can confuse roles or interrupt someone else’s process. I’ve learned that collaboration isn’t about taking over but staying connected. I’ve had to get better at asking before helping, syncing instead of assuming, and treating the handoff not as an ending but as an open communication thread.

How I apply This Today

  • Stay involved after handoff.
    Check in during engineering and QA (quality assurance) to support implementation.
  • Keep workshops flexible.
    Adjust structure based on the client’s energy and decision-making style.
  • Invite a fresh perspective.
    Bring in another designer near the end for polish or feedback.
  • Capture intent visually.
    Document decisions clearly so downstream teams understand the nuances and not just the layout.
This illustration shows in detail the component anatomy, outlining the purpose and usage of each element for clear engineering handoff and system documentation. Every part of the component in the illustration is clearly annotated. The major parts of the component are as follows: (1) image, (2) title, (3) accordion items, (4) accordion item in active state.
A documented component anatomy, outlining the purpose and usage of each element for clear engineering handoff and system documentation. (Large preview)

5. Composure Under Pressure

In fine dining, pressure isn’t an occasional event — it’s the default setting. Every night is high stakes. Timing is tight, expectations are sky-high, and mistakes are rarely forgiven. Composure becomes your edge. You don’t show panic when the kitchen is backed up or when a guest sends a dish back mid-rush. You pivot. You delegate. You anticipate. Some nights, the only thing that kept things on track was staying calm and thinking clearly.

“This notion of problem solving and decision making is key to being a great designer. I think that we need to get really strong at problem identification and then prioritization. All designers are good problem solvers, but the really great designers are strong problem finders.”

— Jason Cyr, “How being a firefighter made me a better designer thinker”

What I Learned

The same principle applies to product design. When pressure mounts — tight timelines, conflicting feedback, or unclear priorities — your ability to stay composed can shift the energy of the entire project.

Composure isn’t just about being calm; it’s about being adaptable and responsive without reacting impulsively. It helps you hold space for feedback, ask better questions, and move forward with clarity instead of chaos.

There have also been plenty of times when a client doesn’t resonate with a design, which can feel crushing. You can easily take it personally and internalize the rejection, or you can pause, listen, and course-correct. I’ve learned to focus on understanding the root of the feedback. Often, what seems like a rejection is just discomfort with a small detail, which in most cases can be easily corrected.

Perfection was the baseline in restaurants, and pressure drove polish. In design, that mindset can lead to overinvesting in perfection too soon or “freezing” under critique. I’ve had to unlearn that success means getting everything right the first time. Now I see messy collaboration and gradual refinement as a mark of success, not failure.

How I Apply This Today

  • Use live design to unblock.
    When timelines are tight and feedback goes in circles, co-designing in real time helps break through stuck points and move forward quickly.
  • Turn critique into clarity.
    Listen for what’s underneath the feedback, then ask clarifying questions, or repeat back what you’re hearing to align before acting.
  • Pause when stress builds.
    If you feel reactive, take a moment to regroup before responding.
  • Frame changes as progress.
    Normalize iteration as part of the process, and not a design failure.

Would I Go Back?

I still dream about the restaurant floor. But now, I see it as a reminder — not of where I was stuck, but of where I perfected the instincts I use today. If you’re someone who came to design from another path, try asking yourself:

  • When do I feel strangely at ease while others panic?
  • What used to feel like “just part of the job,” but now feels like a superpower?
  • Where do I get frustrated because my instincts are different — and maybe sharper?
  • What kinds of group dynamics feel easy to me that others struggle with?
  • What strengths would not exist in me today if I hadn’t lived that past life?

Once you see the patterns, start using them.

Name your edge. Talk about your background as an asset: in intros, portfolios, interviews, or team retrospectives. When projects get messy, lean into what you already know how to do. Trust your instincts. They’re real, and they’re earned. But balance them, too. Stay aware of when your strengths could become blind spots, like speed overriding thoughtfulness. That kind of awareness turns experience into a tool, not a trigger.

Your past doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s. It just needs to teach you something.

Further Reading

  • “If I Was Starting My Career Today: Thoughts After 15 Years Spent In UX Design” (Part One, Part Two), by Andrii Zhdan (Smashing Magazine)
    In this two-part series, Andrii Zhdan outlines common challenges faced at the start of a design career and offers advice to smooth your journey based on insights from his experience hiring designers.
  • “Overcoming Imposter Syndrome By Developing Your Own Guiding Principles,” by Luis Ouriach (Smashing Magazine)
    Unfortunately, not everyone has access to a mentor or a guide at the start of the design career, which is why we often have to rely on “working it out” by ourselves. In this article, Luis Ouriach tries to help you in this task so that you can walk into the design critique meetings with more confidence and really deliver the best representation of your ideas.
  • “Why Designers Get Stuck In The Details And How To Stop,” by Nikita Samutin (Smashing Magazine)
    Designers love to craft, but polishing pixels before the problem is solved is a time sink. This article pinpoints the five traps that lure us into premature detail and then hands you a rescue plan to refocus on goals, ship faster, and keep your craft where it counts.
  • “Rediscovering The Joy Of Design,” by Pratik Joglekar (Smashing Magazine)
    Pratik Joglekar takes a philosophical approach to remind designers about the lost joy within themselves by effectively placing massive importance on mindfulness, introspection, and forward-looking.
  • “Lessons Learned As A Designer-Founder,” by Dave Feldman (Smashing Magazine)
    In this article, Dave Feldman shares his lessons learned and the experiments he has done as a multidisciplinary designer-founder-CEO at an early-stage startup.
  • “How Designers Should Ask For (And Receive) High-Quality Feedback,” by Andy Budd (Smashing Magazine)
    Designers often complain about the quality of feedback they get from senior stakeholders without realizing it’s usually because of the way they initially have framed the request. In this article, Andy Budd shares a better way of requesting feedback: rather than sharing a linear case study that explains every design revision, the first thing to do would be to better frame the problem.
  • “How being a Firefighter made me a better Designer Thinker“ by Jason Cyr (Medium)
    The ability to come upon a situation and very quickly start evaluating information, asking questions, making decisions, and formulating a plan is a skill that every firefighter learns to develop, especially as you rise through the ranks and start leading others.
  • “Advice for making the most of an indirect career path to design,” by Heidi Meredith (Adobe Express Growth)
    I didn’t know anything about design until after I graduated from the University of California, Santa Cruz, with a degree in English Literature/Creative Writing. A mere three months into it, though, I realized I didn’t want to write books — I wanted to design them.

I want to express my deep gratitude to Sara Wachter-Boettcher, whose coaching helped me find the clarity and confidence to write this piece — and, more importantly, to move forward with purpose in both life and work. And to Lea Alcantara, my design director at Fueled, for being a steady creative force and an inspiring example of thoughtful leadership.

Smashing Editorial

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