How to Do UX Design (When You Don’t Know Anything About UX Design)
Or: How I went from writing product descriptions to designing shopping experiences in one year, with only minimal amounts of crying.
This has been hard for me to approach because I’m not used to writing about myself. Or even from my own perspective. Three years ago, I was the slightly-too-radical arts and entertainment editor at an alt weekly newspaper. Two years ago, I was selling live theatre tickets out of a box office window. One year ago, I was writing freelance theatre criticism in the tight hours between my main gig as a copywriter and my other job staging photo shoots and writing press releases for a fringe theatre company.
Now I’m a UX designer. It’s not so different. No, really.
High school and college tend to establish a narrative that if you adhere to a singular track, your career will fall into place. In the whirlwind couple post-grad years that followed graduation, I found myself leaning instead on my intuition and adaptability. And I want you to understand that it’s totally ok to have fun and take risks with your career. Especially when you have no idea what it’s supposed to look like.
#1: Don’t sweat undergrad, and embrace uncertainty.
If I could go back in time and give my college self advice, it’d be this: take that elective. Take that other elective, too. Oh, you’re intimidated by that 200-level design course because you’ve never touched Photoshop in your life? Take it anyway.
The worst thing I did to myself in college was pour myself wholly into my bachelor’s program in creative writing. I saw undergrad as training camp for my future specialized career. I should have instead viewed it as a think tank and a play room. There’s no other time and place where your sole responsibility is to try, fail, and try again. You won’t know what you want until you experience it.
Furthermore, I should have stopped taking fiction writing classes after peers and professors told me that I had more of an analytical skillset. But I’m nothing if not stubborn, which I honestly don’t regret too much because it’s probably part of why I’m a designer now.
At Wayfair, I was shocked to find a large, structured company that still behaved like a startup. I wasn’t just allowed to try new things — it was encouraged. My manager encouraged me to explore other options within the company. My teammates took a vested interest in my development.
It wasn’t until I let go of my preconceived notions about work and advancement that I was able to unlock my potential.
#2: Ask for the things you want.
One of the fun things about being a millennial is that crippling debt and lack of job growth keep our expectations pretty low. We take what we can get.
So when I got hired as a copywriter at Wayfair, I was pretty excited to have a full time job. By the time I learned what user experience was, I was six months into my role, loving it, and excelling at it. The thought of attempting to switch paths completely — with no experience, no schooling, no technical knowledge, and no idea where to begin — was terrifying. It felt like an insurmountable climb.
The thing that drew me to UX was the multidisciplinarity of it. At its core, UX design is the process of creating products, digital or physical, that are intuitive, useful, and pleasant for users to interact with. But when it came to knowing how intuitive something was, that took analysis of data, interaction with people, empathy, and understanding. When it came to usefulness, that took observation and analysis. And when it came to pleasure and delight, that took creativity and passion.
The thing about insurmountable climbs is that they aren’t so bad when you take them a step at a time.
With UX broken down like that, into skills and ideas, I could see the way the course of my career so far wasn’t totally removed from what I wanted to do. As a writer, it’s my job to notice things. It’s my job to think outside of the box, and to communicate clearly, simply, and effectively the myriad and at times complicated thoughts and ideas inside my own head. It’s my job to take individuals’ stories and experiences, and to translate them to others. It’s design in its own way.
So instead of brand projects, I asked to write UI copy for Wayfair features that our UX/UI designers were working on. I cast my analytical eye to the way my copy interacted with the features being built to create an experience that was seamless and enjoyable. I learned how to use Sketch. Instead of interviewing artists and actors, I began interviewing consumers in our target demographic. I was offered the chance to take a stab at design projects pulled out of the backlog in my spare time, and defend them. It was difficult and stressful at first. Then I got better. I talked to a lot of designers. I sat behind them while they worked. I asked to pick up more projects on the side. I asked for people’s opinions. I asked for people’s advice. I asked to be considered for an open design role. I kept asking.
I was half-joking earlier when I talked about how we millennials take what we can get. But it’s true that we’re sometimes afraid to ask for more. Knowing my own potential and being unafraid to ask for the things I wanted and needed was more powerful, and more beneficial to my career than any internship, degree, or training program.
No one will hand anything to you. But if you ask, you’ll be surprised how eager people are to help you.
#3: Broaden your horizons.
Things change quickly. Sometimes navigating career life feels less like a jungle gym and more like jumping between pieces of burning debris as the floor turns to lava. But until our future AI overlords establish a universal basic income, we’re pretty much forced to keep our skills sharp and our minds nimble to remain competitive.
I left theatre behind because of lack of growth. I left writing behind because it wasn’t sustainable. But the skills I carried with me were invaluable. Hold up any job to the light and examine it from a new angle. There’s a lot you can glean from each experience you’ve had, and how you can apply it to an entry-level interview.
It was scary — the uncertainty. When I’d finally asked enough times, pulled together a suitable portfolio, argued my case, and was finally offered a job as a designer at Wayfair, I had to make the tough decision to pass up a promotion as a copywriter and essentially begin again from square one.
But for the first time in my life, it was necessary to look at the big picture, not just what would feel good right now. Part of the challenge of climbing is knowing where to place your feet. Saying “no” is never easy, especially when the opportunity is hard-won. But knowing when to say “no” — knowing when it opens up another path to something greater — is an indispensable skill.
Interested in a role with a title you’ve never heard of? Apply for it (maybe even at Wayfair). And if you get bored, leave. One of the other great things about being a millennial is that you can fully embrace society’s perception of you as a selfish, entitled job-hopper.
Don’t ever let them mistake your passion for entitlement. But you’re definitely allowed to be a little selfish when it comes to the place you devote 40+ hours of your time and labor to on a weekly basis.
I feel contained when I’m expected to be just one thing. There’s no better time than early in your career to take risks, try new things, and surprise yourself at what limits you can cross. No failure is forever. The feeling of doing something fulfilling and enjoyable will take you much farther than the security of a role I don’t know where I’ll be in five years. But I don’t want to.
