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Talk is cheap. And up until now, we've been doing a whole lotta talkin'. That's not to say it hasn't been productive talk! After all, we've discussed the importance of modular thinking, we've learned a methodology for crafting deliberate UI design systems, and we've showcased tools for creating effective pattern libraries.
But here's where the rubber meets the road. Where we roll up our sleeves and put all of this theory into practice. Where we get stuff done. This chapter will tackle all that goes into selling, creating, and maintaining effective design systems. You ready? Let's go.
The not-so-secret secret about creating effective design systems (or doing any great work, really): it all comes down to people truly collaborating and communicating with each other.
If this is such common knowledge, why aren't we constantly hearing thousands of success stories from around the world? I'll let Mark Boulton explain:
The design process is weird and complicated, because people are weird and complicated. Mark Boulton
You can have all the right technologies in place, use the latest-and-greatest tools, and even have extraordinarily talented individuals on board, but if everyone involved isn't actually cooperating and communicating with each other then you're not going to create great work. It's as simple as that. That's not to say you can't create good work, but more often than not you're going to create one of the many disappointing shades of bad work.
Establishing and maintaining successful interface design systems is an organization-wide effort, and this chapter will discuss how to overcome human beings' many quirks to make them happen.
So when's the best time to establish an interface design system? Short answer: now.
Design systems and their accompanying pattern libraries are often created in conjunction with a new design or redesign project, replatforming effort, or other initiative. Piggybacking off another project is a great way to sneak a pattern library into your organization.
That being said, creating a design system and pattern library doesn't necessarily need to coincide with another project. If you can convince your clients and stakeholders to pony up the cash and resources for a dedicated design system project, then good on you!
How exactly do you sell a design system to your clients, bosses, colleagues, and stakeholders? Put on your business hat, because we're going to tackle that in the next section!
Introducing a new way of doing things is no easy task, as it requires changing people's existing mentalities and behaviors. Getting stakeholders and clients on board with establishing a design system involves constant education, in addition to a bit of marketing savvy.
First things first. It's necessary to introduce the concept of interface design systems to your clients, colleagues, and stakeholders. Explain what these design systems are and the many ways they can help the organization. We've discussed these benefits throughout the book, so you can explain how design systems promote consistency and cohesion, speed up your team's productivity, establish a more collaborative workflow, establish a shared vocabulary, provide helpful documentation, make testing easier, and serve as a future-friendly foundation. Who can say no to all that!?
Alas, I've found that I can hype design systems until I'm blue in the face, but the suits don't always see things through the same lens as the people on the ground. A simple reframing of the question helps immensely. I've found it much more effective to simply ask, "Do you like saving time and money, yes or no?" If the answer to that question is no, I'm afraid you have way bigger problems than selling a design system. If the answer is yes, then you can pitch the benefits through the lens of time and money. Let's try this out, shall we?
- Design systems lead to cohesive, consistent experiences. That means users master your UI faster, leading to more conversions and more money based on the metrics your stakeholders care about.
- Design systems speed up your team's workflow. Rather than reinventing the wheel every time a new request comes down the pipe, teams can reuse already-established UI puzzle pieces to roll out new pages and features faster than ever before.
- Centralizing UI components in a pattern library establishes a shared vocabulary for everyone in the organization and creates a more collaborative workflow across all disciplines. With everyone speaking the same language, more time is spent getting work done and less time is spent dealing with superfluous back-and-forth communications and meetings.
- Design systems make cross-browser/device, performance, and accessibility testing easier, vastly speeding up production time and therefore allowing teams to launch higher-quality work faster. Also, baking best practices like accessibility into a living design system means less risk of getting sued for inaccessible features.
- Once a design system (with accompanying pattern library) is established, it serves as a future-friendly foundation for the organization to modify, tweak, extend, and improve upon over time. Doing some AB testing? Roll the learnings from those tests into the living design system! Made some big performance optimizations? Roll them into the living design system! The living part of living design systems means they can always adapt to meet the future needs of the organization, saving time and money all the while.
Framing things through the lens of time and money helps the people controlling the pursestrings understand why a design system is a worthwhile pursuit. With any luck, these conversations will translate to a concrete commitment from the organization (read: allocating real time and money) to make a design system happen.
If only getting buy-in were as easy as having a few well-timed conversations with the right people. Maybe you're savvy enough to seal the deal with talking points alone, but for us mere mortals words aren't enough. Sometimes you need to need more. Sometimes you need to make them feel the pain.
Enter the interface inventory.
Many are familiar with the concept of a content inventory. Content audits are usually performed in the early stages of a website redesign process to take stock of all a site’s content. It’s a tedious process involving spreadsheets and caffeine, but all that hard work pays off. By the end of the exercise the organization's content is laid out on the table, giving teams valuable insights for how to handle their content as they tackle their project.
An interface inventory is similar to a content inventory, only instead of sifting through and categorizing content, you’re taking stock and categorizing all the components that make up your user interface. An interface inventory is a comprehensive collection of the bits and pieces that make up your user interface.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/united-buttons.jpg" caption="Here's a collection of all the unique button styles found on the homepage of United.com. An interface inventory rounds up and categorizes all the unique patterns that make up an interface." %}
So how do you go about conducting an interface audit? How do you go about rounding up all the components that make up your UI? The simple answer is screenshots. Lots of them! Creating an interface inventory requires screenshotting and loosely categorizing all the unique UI components that make up your user experience. While that's a relatively straightforward endeavor, there are some important considerations to keep in mind to make the inventory as useful as possible. Let's go through the process for creating a successful interface inventory.
I’ve encountered many ambitious designers or developers who have taken it upon themselves to start documenting their organization's UI patterns. While I certainly applaud this individual ambition, it’s absolutely essential to get all members of the team to experience the pain of an inconsistent UI for them to start thinking systematically.
In order for the interface inventory to be as effective as possible, representatives from all disciplines responsible for the success of the site should be in a room together for the exercise. Round up the troops: UX designers, visual designers, front-end developers, back-end developers, copywriters, content strategists, project managers, business owners, QA, and any other stakeholders. The more the merrier! After all, one of the most crucial results of this exercise is to establish a shared vocabulary for everyone in the organization, and that requires input from the entire team.
The interface inventory exercise generates a ton of screenshots, so naturally you’ll need software to capture and display those screenshots. Some possible tools include:
- Powerpoint or Keynote
- Photoshop or Sketch
- Evernote Web Clipper
- Google Docs or Microsoft Word
- Google Slides (If you're interested, I've created a Google Slides interface inventory template)
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/interface-inventory-template.png" caption="It's important for all participants to capture screenshots using the same software so they can be combined later. I've created a Google Slides interface inventory template for teams to use as a starting point." %}
Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter what tool you use, but everyone should agree on a single tool to make it easier to combine at the end of the exercise. I’ve found online slide-building software like Google Slides to be very effective as they provide a canvas for free-form image positioning, they're chunked out into slides for easier categorization, and they're web-based so can be shared with ease.
Get your screenshotting fingers ready because it's time for the main event! The interface audit exercise involves screenshotting and categorizing all the unique UI patterns that make up your experience. Bear in mind this exercise doesn't mean capturing every instance of a particular UI pattern, but rather capturing one instance of each unique UI pattern.
Assign each participant a UI category. You may need to break people up into pairs or have participants document multiple categories, depending on how many people are participating in the exercise. Once again, it's helpful to have as many participants as possible since more people screenshotting will result in more thorough documentation.
So what interface element categories should be captured? Obviously the categories are going to vary from interface to interface, but here’s a few categories to start with:
- Global elements – components like headers, footers, and other global elements that are shared across the entire experience
- Navigation – primary navigation, footer navigation, pagination, breadcrumbs, interactive component controls, and essentially anything that’s used to navigate around a user interface
- Image types – logos, hero images, avatars, thumbnails, backgrounds, etc and any other type of image pattern that shows up in the UI
- Icons – Icons are a special type of image worthy of their own category. Capture magnifying glasses, social icons, arrows, hamburgers, spinners, favicons, and every other interface icon.
- Forms – inputs, text areas, select menus, checkboxes, switches, radio buttons, sliders, and other forms of user input
- Buttons – Buttons are the quintessential UI element. Capture all the unique button patterns found throughout the experience: primary, secondary, big, small, disabled, active, loading, and even buttons that look like text links.
- Headings – h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 and variations of typographic headings
- "Blocks" – Also known as touts, callouts, summaries, ads, or hero units, "blocks" are collections of typographic headings and/or images and/or summary text (see Nicole Sullivan’s write-up about the Media Object as an example of a block).
- Lists – unordered, ordered, definition, bulleted, numbered, lined, striped, or any group of elements presented in a list-type format
- Interactive Components – accordions, tabs, carousels, and other functional modules with moving parts
- Media – video players, audio players and other rich media elements
- 3rd Party Components – widgets, iframes, stock tickers, social buttons, invisible tracking scripts, and anything else that isn’t hosted on your domain
- Advertising – all ad formats and dimensions
- Messaging – alerts, success, errors, warnings, validation, loaders, popups, tooltips, etc. This can be a challenging category to capture as messaging often requires user action to expose.
- Colors – Capture all unique colors presented in the interface. This category can be aided by fantastic style-guide bootstrapping tools like CSS Stats and Stylify Me.
- Animation – Animation is an elemental aspect of user interfaces, and should therefore be documented. This requires using screen recording software such as Quicktime to capture any UI element that moves, fades, shakes, transitions, or shimmies across the screen.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/pnc-forms.png" caption="An example of various form elements captured in an interface inventory for a major bank's website" %}
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/pnc-buttons.png" caption="An example of unique button patterns captured in an interface inventory for a major bank's website" %}
Again, these categories aren’t set in stone and will vary based on the nature of the type of user interface you're dealing with. Of course it's important to add, subtract, or modify these categories to best fit your organizational needs.
It's important to set time limits on the screenshotting exercise to avoid going down a rabbit hole that ends up lasting all day. The amount of time you allocate will vary depending on how many people are participating, but I find between 30-90 minutes to be sufficient for a first pass of an interface inventory. Set a timer, throw on some Jeopardy music (well, maybe not Jeopardy music, but maybe some other music that sets an upbeat mood for the exercise), and have the participants concentrate on screenshotting the unique UI patterns they encounter.
Which parts of the site should participants capture in the interface inventory? Short answer: everything. Any UI piece that is part of the owned user experience should be documented.
This is difficult as organizations tend to favor certain parts of the experience (cough homepage cough) over others. For example, people working on an e-commerce website tend to focus on the core shopping experience, even though areas like customer support, FAQs, sizing charts, 404 pages, legal terms are also extremely important to the user experience. Remember, users perceive your brand as a singular entity and don't care about your organizational structure, tech stack, or anything else that might cause disparities in the UI. So encourage interface audit participants to be as thorough as possible during the exercise.
The screenshotting exercise can be a bit overwhelming, so be sure the team takes a break after the exercise is complete. Get some food, grab some coffee, and stretch your legs for a bit. Once everyone's feeling refreshed, it's time to discuss what everybody captured.
Have each participant spend 5 or 10 minutes presenting each UI category to the group. Here's where the fun begins. Presenting to the group allows the team to discuss the rationale behind existing UI patterns, kickstarts a conversation about naming conventions, and gets the team excited to establish a more consistent interface.
Naming things is hard. It's fascinating to hear the inconsistent names designers, developers, product owners, and other stakeholders all have for the same UI pattern. "Oh, we call that the utility bar." "Oh we call it the admin nav." "Oh we call it the floating action area!" This exercise is an opportunity to unearth and iron out disparities between pattern labels, and also establish names for previously-unlabeled patterns. Don't feel like you need to come to a consensus on patterns' final names in the course of 10 minutes; this exercise is simply meant to kickstart a broader discussion.
Once every category has been presented and discussed, all the participants should send their slides to the exercise leader. The leader will then combine everything into one giant über-document, which will soon become a wrecking ball of truth and justice.
With the über-document in hand, now it's time to get the entire organization on board with crafting an interface design system.
Have you ever wanted to see a CEO cry? Laying bare all your UI's inconsistencies is a great way to make that happen! One of the most powerful benefits of interface inventories is that you can show them to anyone, including non-designers and developers, and they'll understand why inconsistent UIs are problematic. You don't need to be a designer to recognize that having 37 unique button styles probably isn't a good idea. Here's your opportunity to make it crystal clear to stakeholders that approaching your UI in a more systematic way makes great sense for both your users and your organization.
In addition to selling the idea through to key stakeholders, all the hard work and discussion that went into the initial interface inventory exercise should be translated into the seeds of your future design system and pattern library.
It's very likely the initial exercise didn't capture every unique UI pattern, so you may need to conduct another interface audit exercise to capture a more complete picture of your UI patterns. This may involve a large group again, but in reality a smaller, cross-disciplinary team will be the ones who will be going through the über-document and establishing next steps for the design system.
Once the gaps in the interface inventory have been filled in, the working group can have some important conversations about next steps for the design system project. Some key questions for this group to cover include:
- Which patterns should stay, which should go, and which can be merged together?
- What pattern names should we settled on?
- What are the next steps to translate the interface inventory into a living pattern library?
Creating an interface inventory can be a big undertaking, but the benefits of making one are many:
- Captures all patterns and their inconsistencies — An interface inventory rounds up all the unique patterns that make up your UI. Seeing all those similar-but-still-different patterns next to each other exposes redundancy and underscores the need to create a consistent, cohesive experience.
- Gets organizational buy-in — Having a large, diverse group of disciplines participate in the exercise helps everyone understand the value of creating and maintaining a consistent user interface. Also, the interface inventory über-document can be a tremendously powerful tool for convincing stakeholders, bosses, and clients to invest in an interface design system.
- Establishes a scope of work — An interface inventory helps design teams determine the level of effort required to design and build each UI pattern as part of a design or redesign project. Which components will be easy and relatively difficult to convert into a responsive environment? What are the content, design, and development considerations around each component? An interface inventory enables teams to have important conversations that help establish a project's realistic scope and timeline.
- Lays the groundwork to a sound interface design system — The interface inventory is an important first step for setting up a comprehensive pattern library. It's essential to capture all existing UI patterns in order to determine which patterns will make the final cut in the living design system. The interface audit exercise also helps teams establish a shared vocabulary, which will be crucial for the success of the eventual design system.
So you've discussed the benefits of establishing a living design system with your stakeholders, and you've even created an interface inventory to show them the inconsistent train wreck that is the current UI. And yet, despite all your efforts, they still shoot down the sound idea of establishing an interface design system and pattern library. What's a responsible Web team to do?
Do it anyways.
Just how we build things like performance, accessibility, and responsiveness into our products and process by default, we should also create design systems by default. You don't need to get the client's blessing in order to follow your craft's best practices. When you give stakeholders the option to say no to something, they will. So simply don't give them that opportunity. We're tasked with creating great work for our clients and organizations, and interface design systems are a means to that end.
The fact of the matter is that in order to create the whole, you need to create the parts of that whole. Our interfaces are comprised of smaller pieces, whether you pay those smaller pieces any mind or not.
You have a decision to make: focus solely on creating the whole while ignoring the parts, or spend some time organizing the parts to help you more efficiently create the whole. In his book Multiscreen UX Design, Wolfram Nagel wonderfully articulates these approaches using Lego bricks as an analogy.
One way to approach a Lego project is to simply dump the pieces out of the box onto a table, roll up your sleeves, then start building your creation.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/lego-2.png" caption="One way to approach a Lego project is to simply dump the pieces out onto a table, and rummage through the pile to find the pieces you need. Image adapted from Multiscreen UX Design by Wolfram Nagel" %}
This approach to a Lego project is certainly a viable strategy, even if it is unapologetically haphazard. The only time you'd pay attention to the pile of bricks is when you're sifting through it to find the specific piece you need.
This is not dissimilar to how many digital projects are approached. The client needs a website, so we jump in to designing and building the website. The client needs a mobile app, so we immediately start building the screens of the app. Our gaze remains transfixed on the final product, and we rarely if ever glance at the underlying patterns that comprise our final UIs.
Of course, there is another way to approach your Lego and digital projects. Rather than diving head-first into constructing the final work, you can take the time to take stock of the available pieces and organize them in such a way that they become more useful.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/lego-3.png" caption="Taking the time to organize the pieces that make up your final creations allows you to approach the final work in a more deliberate and efficient manner. Image adapted from Multiscreen UX Design by Wolfram Nagel" %}
No doubt this organization takes time, planning and effort. It doesn't come for free. The fact that this organization isn't visibly represented in the final product may tempt one to say it serves as a distraction to the "real" work that needs done. So why bother?
By taking the time to organize the parts, you can now create the whole in a more realistic, deliberate, and efficient manner. Creating a library of your available materials allows you to approach the project in a more methodical way, and saves immense amounts of time in your process. Rather than rummaging through a haphazard pile of bricks and burning time reinventing patterns, you can create an organized system of components that will help produce better work in a shorter amount of time.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/lego-4.png" caption="Taking the time to organize the pieces that make up your final creations allows you to work in a more deliberate and efficient manner. Rather than sifting through a haphazard pile of bricks, an organized inventory of components can produce better, faster work. Image adapted from Multiscreen UX Design by Wolfram Nagel" %}
As far as your clients and stakeholders are concerned, the final product is still being produced. So long as you're showing progress on the final work, you can decide how much of your internal process you're willing to expose to them. The fact that you're creating a design system to produce the final product is really of no concern to them; it's simply a decision your team is making to create better work.
If you're dealing with change-adverse stakeholders, I say do what you need to do and tell them to pay no attention to what's happening behind the curtain. Once you've successfully launched the project and the champagne has been poured, you can pull back the curtain and say, "Oh by the way, we established a design system and pattern library so the team could collaborate and work more efficiently together." It would be extremely difficult for them to argue against you now, especially if the project came in on time and on budget. If you're really lucky, you can parlay the initial project's success into a more official initiative within the organization to evolve your design system.
Of course it's far more preferable to get your clients, colleagues, and stakeholders excited about creating an interface design system, or at the very least get their blessing to pursue the project in a modular fashion. But I think it's important to find ways to follow your craft's best practices even when you're faced with extreme organizational resistance.
You've put in a lot of hard work to sell the concept of a design system, but you still need to set stakeholder and team expectations before you roll up your sleeves and get to work.
When I say "set expectations" I'm really saying "reset expectations." You see, we all bring our own experiences, opinions, and biases to a project. Our industry is still incredibly young, so many people working on Web projects are coming from other industries with their own established Ways Of Doing Things. Even people who have exclusively worked in the digital world have felt the baggage of industries past. Moreover, the guiding principles, best practices, and tactics of digital design are still very much being established.
It's ludicrous for anyone to utter the phrase "this is how we've always done things" in an industry that's only 25 years old. Unfortunately, we humans are creatures of habit, and stepping outside familiarity's warm embrace is uncomfortable. We don't like being uncomfortable. We must overcome our existing predispositions if we're going to embrace our ever-shifting industry's best practices and create successful digital work.
We've come a long way from simply transplanting print PDFs onto the World Wide Web, but print design still casts a long shadow and continues to influence how things get done on the Web.
Design in the print world focuses heavily on visual aesthetics. After all, you can't do much more with a poster than look at it. To be clear, I'm certainly not implying print design is easy or one-dimensional; no doubt the world of print is steeped in nuance and craft. What I am saying is that the bi-directional and interactive nature of the Web adds many more dimensions to what constitutes good design. Speed, screen size, environment, technological capabilities, form-factor, ergonomics, usability, accessibility, context, and user preferences must be considered if we want to create great work for this brave new digital world.
These additional design considerations are vital for creating great digital work, yet sadly they are too often absent from our processes and workflows. Designer Dan Mall explains:
As an industry, we sell websites like paintings. Instead, we should be selling beautiful and easy access to content, agnostic of device, screen size, or context.� Dan Mall
How did we get to the point where we're selling and designing websites like they're static images? During the formative years of the Web we created experiences meant to be consumed solely by desktop computers, which is understandable since desktops were really the only game in town. The real estate provided by desktop screens made the idea of simply translating a PDF onto the Web a feasible and enticing one. So that's what we did, and for a while it actually worked!
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/this-is-the-web-1.png" caption="Once upon a time the Web was primarily consumed on desktop screens, hence this crusty-looking, old machine." %}
However, this didn't come without consequences. This print-esque perspective of the Web reinforced the notion that Web designs, like their offline print counterparts, can and should look the same in every environment. It also kept the focus on how a web design looks rather than how it works, ignoring all the unique characteristics of this rich new medium. Moreover, it reinforced the notion that we could simply apply the same linear processes used to create print work to our digital work.
Of course time went by, mobile exploded, technology improved, and the Web become the incredibly large and diverse landscape we know today. Gone are the desktop-only days of yore, and in its place is a plethora of smartphones, dumb phones, tablets, phablets, netbooks, notebooks, e-readers, wearables, TVs, game consoles, car dashboards, and so much more.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/this-is-the-web-2.png" caption="This is the Web: a potpourri of devices, screen sizes, capabilities, form factors, network speeds, input types, and more." %}
The diversity of today's Web landscape has shattered the consensual hallucination of the "desktop Web," where we could simply bolt the mentalities and processes of print onto this new medium. Simply looking at a smartphone, tablet, and desktop machine next to each other quickly erodes the notion that a Web design should look the same in every environment.
Of course, we're still at the very beginning of the Big Bang of connected devices. The device and Web landscape of tomorrow will undoubtedly be even bigger and diverse than today's. In addition to today's devices and the nascent technologies already on the horizon, the future Web landscape will involve technologies and ideas that haven't been conceived yet.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/this-is-the-web-3.png" caption="In addition to all the Web-capable devices we concern ourselves with today, we must understand that the device and Web landscape is becoming bigger and more diverse all the time." %}
I've found the three previous images to be a tremendously helpful shorthand for helping clients, colleagues, and stakeholders understand the reality of the Web landscape. With this newfound understanding, everyone becomes a whole lot more receptive to updating their processes and workflows in order to create great work for this unique medium.
It's our job to create great experiences for a diversity of devices, screen sizes, network speeds, device capabilities, browser features, input types, form factors, contexts, and user preferences. That's undoubtedly a herculean task, but all these variables really underscore the need to extend far beyond visual aesthetics when creating interface design systems.
In addition to making visually beautiful and consistent experiences, we should:
- Embrace the ubiquity of the Web by creating accessible, resilient design systems. Recognize that a whole slew of people with a vast spectrum of capabilities will be accessing our experiences, so construct design systems to be as inclusive as possible.
- Create flexible layouts and components so that our interfaces look and function beautifully irrespective of any particular device dimension or screen size.
- Treat performance as an essential design principle and create fast-loading experiences that respect users and their time.
- Progressively enhance our interfaces by establishing core experiences then layering on enhancements to take advantage of the unique capabilities of modern devices and browsers.
- Create future-friendly design systems meant to stand the test of time and anticipate inevitable changes to the device and Web landscape.
Of course there are many other design considerations that should be included in our interface design systems (ergonomics, input type, Section 508 compliance, legibility, and so on), but the key takeaway here is to expand the definition of what constitutes good digital design beyond visual aesthetics.
As you might expect, substantial changes to our processes need to happen in order to properly address all these uniquely digital design considerations. It therefore becomes our responsibility to set client, colleague, and stakeholder expectations so that everyone knows the process for creating will be different this time around.
Tell me if you've heard this one before. A team is tasked with making a website. Once the kickoff meeting dust has settled, a UX designer goes away, puts their head down, and eventually emerges with a giant PDF document detailing the entire experience. This monolithic wireframe document gets passed around to the project stakeholders, who sign off on it after some feedback and suggestions.
The UX designer then passes the wireframes off to the visual designer, who hops into Photoshop or Sketch to apply color, typography, and texture to the structured-but-sterile wireframes. In the design review meeting, stakeholders sit eagerly while the projector fires up and the project manager runs off to print copies of the design deck for everyone. The art director takes their position at the front of the room and unveils the design. Behold, a website design! Once the presentation is finished, the room quickly becomes abuzz with feedback and conversation. After the initial reactions and compliments die down, a key stakeholder speaks up.
"This looks fantastic, and I think really hits the mark for what we're trying to accomplish with this project. But..."
They express their desire to see something perhaps with an alternate layout, something that captures a certain vibe, maybe something that uses different photography, something that just...pops.
With the floodgates opened, the other stakeholders suddenly realize they too have opinions and constructive criticism they'd like to share. By the time the meeting draws to a close, everyone has rambled off their Christmas wish list of what they'd like the design to accomplish.
Slightly deflated but determined to nail it, the visual designer retreats back to their tools to work in the stakeholders' suggestions. At the next design review meeting, the same scene repeats itself, with stakeholders expressing equal parts encouragement and longing for more. "I feel like we're almost there. Could we just..."
Weeks pass and seasons change. Nerves wear thin, and the deadline date looms over everyone's heads. It's with a sense of urgency that homepage_v9_final_for-review_FINAL_bradEdits_for-handoff.psd
finally gets approval by the stakeholders.
The visual designer, relieved they've finally completed their job, tiptoes oh-so-quietly up to the entrance of the Code Cave. They slip the approved design under the door, and as they scamper away they yell "Can you get this done in 3 weeks? We're already behind schedule and we're out of budget!"
The visual designer has already disappeared into the night by the time the front-end developer picks the design off the floor. With one glance at the composition, a strange feeling — some combination of bewilderment, rage, and dread – washes over them. What's wrong with the design, exactly? Maybe it's the 7 typefaces and 9 unique button styles peppered throughout the comps. Maybe it's the desktop-centric, impossible-to-actually-execute layout. Maybe it's the perfect-yet-improbable user-generated content.
The front-end developer tries in vain to raise their concerns to the broader group, but is quickly dismissed as being either inept or curmudgeonly. Alas, it's too late in the game to make significant changes to the design, especially since it's already been approved by the stakeholders.
So the developer tries their best to make lemonade out of the lemony static comps. They bend over backwards to create responsive layouts that still retain the integrity of the static comps, normalize some of the more blatant component inconsistencies, establish pattern states (like button hover, active, and disabled states) that weren't articulated in the designs, and make some on-the-fly decisions regarding the interactive aspects of the experience. Discussions with designers are strained, but everyone realizes that they need to work through these issues to get the project done.
After plugging the front-end code into a CMS, frantically finalizing the site's content, and doing some last-minute QA testing, the team finally launches the site. While no one may say it out loud, there's a tinge of disappointment in the air alongside the joy and relief of getting the project out the door. After all, the live site lacks the glossy polish that the comps promised to the stakeholders, and friction between disciplines has bruised some relationships.
I hope this story reads as a work of fiction to you, but based on my own experiences and conversations with countless others, I'm guessing you've experienced this to some degree. It may even hit home like a punch in the gut. Whether you've endured this process firsthand or not, it's important to recognize that the Henry Ford-esque waterfall process increasingly isn't likely to result in great digital work.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/waterfall-1.png" caption="The waterfall process, where disciplines pass off work to each other in sequential order, isn't likely to result in great digital work." %}
The waterfall process may make sense for print, architecture, manufacturing, and other physical mediums since mistakes and changes are extraordinarily costly. If a team misses a mistake made early in the process, they'll pay dearly for it later. However, the digital world isn't constrained by the same limitations as the physical one. Pixels are cheap. Changes can happen in an instant, hypotheses can be quickly tested out, and designs and code can be iterated upon.
The waterfall process hinges on the premise that work must flow in a sequential order: the UX designer's work must be completed before visual design can start; the visual designer must finish their job before front-end development can begin. This simply isn't true. There is much work that can and should happen in parallel. In order to create sound UI design systems, we must reset our stakeholders' expectations and get them comfortable with a blurrier, more collaborative process.
That work will happen in parallel doesn't imply that everyone will be guns blazing throughout the entire process. Of course the bulk of research, information architecture, and other elemental aspects of UX design will tend to happen earlier in the process, but that work shouldn't delay the other disciplines from starting their jobs. And even when the bulk of a person's active work is done, they should never simply fade away from the project. It's crucial for every discipline to continue to consult with the other disciplines to ensure their vision makes it into the final product. So rather than a rigid, sequential waterfall process, a more collaborative process over time looks something like this:
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/waterfall-2.png" caption="A more collaborative workflow involves a cross-disciplinary team working together throughout the entire process. While active work will wax and wane, each discipline continues to consult with the other team members to ensure their insights are present in the final work." %}
When a previous employer discovered I wrote HTML, CSS, and presentational JavaScript, they moved me to sit with the engineers and back-end developers. Before too long I was being asked, "Hey Brad, how long is that middleware going to take to build?" and "can you normalize this database real quick?"
Here's the thing: I've never had a computer science class in my life, and I spent my high school career hanging out in the art room. Suffice it to say those requests made me extremely uncomfortable.
There's a fundamental misunderstanding that all coding is ultra-geeky programming, which simply isn't the case. HTML is not a programming language. CSS is not a programming language. But because HTML and CSS are still technically code, front-end development is often put in the same bucket as Python, Java, PHP, Ruby, C++, and other programming languages. This misunderstanding tends to give many front-end developers, myself included, a severe identity crisis.
Organizationally, there is often a massive divide between designers and developers (or "marketing" and "IT", or "creative" and "engineering", or some other divisive labels). Designers and developers often sit on different floors, in different buildings altogether, in different cities, and sometimes even in different countries in different continents. While some of this organizational separation may be justified, creating a division between designers and front-end developers is an absolutely terrible idea.
Here's the thing: HTML, CSS, and presentational JavaScript build user interfaces – yes, the same user interfaces that those designers are meticulously crafting in tools like Photoshop and Sketch. In order for teams to build successful user interface design systems together, it's crucial to treat front-end development as a core part of the design process.
When you only show stakeholders static pictures of websites, they can naturally only comment and sign off on pictures of websites. This naturally sets the wrong expectations. But by getting the design into the browser as fast as possible, you confront stakeholders with the realities of the final medium much sooner in the process. Working in HTML, CSS, and presentational JavaScript allows teams to not only create aesthetically beautiful designs, but demonstrates those uniquely-digital design considerations like:
- Flexibility
- Impact of the network
- Interaction
- Motion
- Ergonomics
- Color and text rendering
- Pixel density
- Scrolling performance
- Device and browser quirks
- User preferences
Crucially, jumping into the browser faster also kickstarts the creation of the patterns that will make up the living, breathing design system. More on this in a bit.
This is not to say teams must design entirely in the browser. As with anything, it's about using the right tools at the right time to articulate the right things. Once again, Dan Mall has some words of wisdom:
Let’s change the phrase “designing in the browser” to “deciding in the browser.” Dan Mall
Having the design represented in the browser in addition to other design artifacts gives teams to ability to paint a richer, more realistic picture. Teams may demonstrate an aesthetically-focused design idea as a static image and simultaneously demonstrate a working prototype of that same idea.
I believe a successful digital design process is quite similar to subtractive stone sculpture. At the beginning of the sculpting process, the artist and their patron have a general idea of what's being creating, but that vision won't be fully realized until the sculpture is complete.
The sculptor starts with a giant slab of rock and starts chipping away. A crude shape begins to form after the first pass, and the shape becomes more pronounced with every subsequent pass. After a few rounds of whacking away at the rock, it becomes clear that the sculptor's subject is a human form.
With the general shape of the sculpture roughed out, the artist thens begin honing in on specific sections of the piece. For instance, they may begin with the face, moving up close to detail the shape of the eyes, nose, and mouth. After several passes, they then move onto the arms, and then begin detailing the legs. At regular intervals the artist steps back to see how their detailing work impacts the overall sculpture. This process continues until the sculpture is complete and everyone is pleased with the results.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/stone-sculptor.jpg" caption="An iterative digital process is similar to subtractive stone sculpture, where fidelity is built up over many iterations. Image credit" %}
Again, I think subtractive stone sculpture is a great analogy for a successful digital process, although unlike sculpture we have the power of undo!
It's essential to get stakeholders comfortable with reviewing works in progress rather than fully-baked designs and code. As I mentioned in Chapter 1, every organization these days desires to become more "agile", and iteration is a key part of that process. It's more important to make steps in the right direction than exhaust a ton of effort painting unrealistic pictures of what you want the final piece to be. A sound design system doesn't roll off an assembly line, but is rather sculpted in iterative loops, building up fidelity as the project progresses.
If this all sounds a bit messy, that's because it is! To the dismay of some project managers, the design process doesn't fit neatly into the rigid borders of Excel documents and Gantt charts. True collaboration between disciplines is fuzzy and chaotic, and that's not a bad thing. Constant communication, tight feedback loops, and true collaboration therefore become the glue that holds the process together. Get your entire team to commit to honest conversation and genuine collaboration, and the details of your process will fall into place.
Are everyone's expectations properly set? Good! Now let's roll up our sleeves and get to work establishing our design system.
Teams are often eager to jump right into fun high-fidelity design and development work, and clients are eager to see and react to that detailed work. However, this leads to distractions, assumptions, and all the aforementioned misguided expectations we discussed in the last section. It's essential to get alignment on an overall design direction and paint the broad strokes first before moving into high-fidelity design and development work. This requires restraint and expectation management, but doing so results in more focused decision making and more realistic work.
What does this lo-fi work look like? Let's take a look at some techniques UX designers, visual designers, and front-end developers can use to begin crafting a strong overall direction for a UI design system.
There's a ton of up-front strategic and research work that can and should happen toward the beginning of a project. UX designers (known by other monikers such as information designers, information architects, interaction designers, and so on) are tasked with synthesizing all that vital information and translating that into a user interface that solves the project's business and user goals.
In a traditional waterfall process, many UX designers have gone about this task by generating high-fidelity wireframes that document every screen of the entire user experience. These wireframe documents, stuffed to the gills with black rectangles and annotations, spec out the details of what the interface will accomplish, and are used to get stakeholder buy-in. As thorough as these documents tend to be, they don't paint the full picture and often make dangerous assumptions about visual layout and technical functionality.
Rather than jumping straight into such high-fidelity documents, it's better to start with lo-fi sketches that establish what goes on a particular screen and in what general order. Establishing the experience's basic information architecture can be accomplished with a simple bulleted list and a conversation. For a project I did for the Greater Pittsburgh Community Food Bank, I started by stubbing out the basic information architecture for a page on a site.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/food-bank-wireframe.png" caption="Basic HTML wireframes for the Greater Pittsburgh Community Food Bank homepage." %}
No one in their right mind would mistaken this blocked-out grayscale page as complete, but it provides more than enough information to have important conversations about the page structure and hierarchy.
Making these lo-fi wireframes mobile-first means using the constraints of small screens to force the team to focus on the core content and hierarchy. You can now ask, "Do we have the right things on this screen?" "Are they in the right general order?" These are critical questions to ask, and can and should be answered devoid of any layout or technical functionality.
These blocky grayscale wireframes help establish the necessary content patterns for the screen, but UX designers can also articulate some site-wide UI patterns they anticipate using to ultimately display those content patterns. For the redesign of TechCrunch, designer Jennifer Brook defined a few site-wide UI patterns that could be used anywhere we needed them:
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/techcrunch-wireframe.png" caption="For the TechCrunch website redesign, Jennifer Brook defined site-wide, gestural display patterns, which don't make assumptions about aesthetics or functionality." %}
From the above image, you can gather that the "featured island" component will feature content in some fashion. Note the gestural nature of this sketch and how it doesn't make any specific assumptions about layout or functionality. The details of how this pattern will look and function will come later, but at the beginning stage of the project it's useful simply to define it and articulate where it might get utilized.
A visual designer's job is to create an aesthetic language and apply it to the user interface in a way that aligns with the project's goals. To do this, it's essential for a visual designer to unearth the stakeholders' aesthetic values.
Historically, visual designers have gone about this by creating full comps — often many comps — to feel out the aesthetic values of the organization. Throw some comps against the wall and see what sticks. As you might imagine, generating a slew of comps from scratch takes an immense amount of time and effort, and unfortunately much of that work finds itself on the cutting room floor. There must be a more efficient way.
As it turns out, there's a better path to take in order to arrive at aesthetic values without having to do a whole hell of a lot of upfront design work. Let's talk about some of the tactics for making this happen.
A fantastic exercise for quickly establishing aesthetic values is the 20-Second Gut Test. Typically done as part of the project kickoff meeting, the exercise involves showing the stakeholders a handful of pertinent websites (about 20-30 of them) for 20 seconds each. The sites you choose should be a healthy blend between industry-specific sites as well as other visually-interesting sites from other industries. For added believability, you can photoshop in your client's logo in place of the site's actual logo.
For each site presented, each person votes on a scale from 1 to 10, where a score of 1 means "If this were our site I would quit my job and cry myself to sleep," while a score of 10 means "If this were our site I would be absolutely ecstatic!" Instruct participants to consider visual properties they find interesting, such as typography, color, density, layout, illustration style, general vibe, and so on.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/foodbank-20-second.jpg" caption="For the Pittsburgh Food Bank website redesign kickoff, we showed stakeholders a variety of relevant websites for 20 seconds each. The participants voted on how happy they would be if the particular site was theirs. Then we discussed the results." %}
When the exercise is complete, quickly tally up the scores and come back to the group to discuss the results. Have a conversation about the sites that received the 5 lowest scores, the 5 highest scores, and the most contentious scores (sites which some people ranked very highly and others ranked very lowly). The participants should explain why they were attracted or repulsed by a particular site, and work through differences in opinions with the group.
This exercise exposes stakeholders to a variety of aesthetic directions early in the process, allows them to work through differences in taste, and (with any luck) helps arrive at some shared aesthetic values. The visual designer can then latch onto these insights and begin to translate those aesthetic values into a visual direction for the project.
Once again, visual designers' first instinct is often to jump right into creating full comps to articulate an aesthetic direction for the project. This high-fidelity work is certainly tangible, but also wastes a ton of time and effort if the comps don't resonate with the stakeholders. Also, creating high-fidelity comps often makes big assumptions about technical feasibility, which leads to unrealistic expectations and antagonistic relationships with front-end developers.
It's essential to establish a solid visual direction for the project, so how does a visual designer do that without burning a ton of time on upfront high-fidelity comps? That's the question that designer Samantha Warren answered when she created style tiles, a deliverable that's more tangible than a mood board but not as high fidelity as a fully-baked comp.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/ew-style-tile.png" caption="For the Entertainment Weekly website redesign project, visual designers used style tiles to explore color, type, texture, and more." %}
Style tiles (along with their in-browser counterparts, style prototypes) allow designers to explore color, typography, texture, icons, and other aspects of design atmosphere without making assumptions about layout or worrying about polish. They can be designed much faster because they're not encumbered by the expectations of high-fidelity comps, which means feedback and conversation can happen sooner.
Style tiles facilitate conversation to uncover what stakeholders value and what they don't. "Does this style tile resonate better with you rather than this one? Why?" "Why does this color palette not sit well with you?" "What about this typeface do you like?" You can have important conversations about aesthetic design without having to create fully-baked comps.
Style tiles also crucially reinforce pattern-based thinking by educating stakeholders about design systems rather than pages. Presenting color swatches, type examples, and textures exposes stakeholders to the ingredients that will underpin any implementation of the design system.
While style tiles are great for exploring design atmosphere, they're still a bit abstract. To get a sense of how those design ingredients will be applied to an interface, it's important to quickly move into something a bit more tangible than a style tile. But does that mean visual designers need to jump from style tiles straight into full comps? Not necessarily.
Somewhere in between style tiles and full comps live element collages, which are collections of UI component design explorations. Element collages provide a playground for designers to apply design atmosphere to actual interface elements, but still be free from layout and highly-polished presentation.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/ew-element-collage.jpg" caption="An element collage for the Entertainment Weekly redesign applied color, typography, and texture to actual interface elements. These collages enable important conversations about the aesthetic direction of the project." %}
Like style tiles, element collages are meant to facilitate conversation about the aesthetic direction of the project. It's very clear these collages aren't an actual website, but stakeholders can still get a sense of what the site could look like. Conversation about these element collages can give visual designers more ideas and direction about where to take the design next, and because of the collages' lo-fi nature, designers can quickly iterate and evolve their ideas.
No doubt other tactics exist to establish aesthetic direction for your projects, and which techniques you decide to employ will vary from project to project. But the key takeaway is to paint some broader strokes before exhausting a lot of time and effort on highly detailed design work. Engaging in conversation with stakeholders at this exploratory stage creates a more inclusive process, which is far preferable to a process in which stakeholders simply grunt approval or disapproval of design deliverables.
As we discussed earlier, front-end developers are often relegated to crude production machines that are brought into the project only after all the design decisions are made. This archaic process keeps disciplines out of sync with each other and prevents teams from working together in a meaningful way. This of course is a huge mistake. Including front-end development as a critical part of the design process requires changes to both project structure and team members' mentalities.
In the restaurant business, an important-yet-unsung role is that of the prep chef. A prep chef chops vegetables, marinades meat, and makes salads in preparation for the following day's work. By having ingredients prepared ahead of time, the kitchen staff can focus on collaboration and cooking rather than menial tasks. Without the up-front work of the prep chef, the flow of the main chefs would be interrupted and the fast pace of the kitchen would grind to a halt.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/food-prep.jpg" caption="A prep chef chops vegetables, marinades meat, makes salads, and prepares other ingredients so that the main kitchen staff can focus on cooking meals and collaboration." %}
Front-end developers need to be the prep chefs of the Web design process. If developers aren't coding from day one of the project, there's something wrong with the process. "But Brad," I can hear you saying, "how can I start coding if I don't know what I'm supposed to code?"
Believe me, there is plenty of front-end work to do without knowing a thing about the project's information design or aesthetic direction. In addition to setting up the development environment (such as preparing Git repositories, dev servers, CMSs, and development tools), developers can dive into code and begin marking up patterns. But what should you be marking up if you don't know anything about the design? That depends on the type of project you're working on.
Are you making an e-commerce site? You can set up site search, shopping cart table, placeholder product detail page, homepage, and checkout pages. Making an online service? Start marking up the signup & login forms, forgot password flow, and dashboard. And of course most websites will have a header, footer, and main content area. Set up shell templates and write basic markup for patterns you anticipate using. Of course this markup will be initially crude, but it provides a crucial starting point for collaboration and iteration.
This front-end prep chef work frees up developers' time to collaborate with designers, rather than working after design is complete. With basic markup in place, developers can work with designers to help validate UX design decisions through conversations and working prototypes, can help visual designers better understand source order & web layout, and can quickly produce a fledgling codebase that will eventually evolve into the final product.
Let's quickly review what establishing design direction looks like across disciplines:
- UX designers can create lo-fi sketches that establish basic information architecture and some anticipated UI patterns.
- Visual designers can gather the teams' aesthetic values by conducting a 20-second gut test exercise, then create style tiles and element collages to explore initial design directions.
- Front-end developers can set up project dependencies, stub out basic templates, and write structural markup for patterns the team anticipates using in the project.
This work can happen concurrently but shouldn't happen in isolation. Sure, there will need to be some initial head-down time for each discipline to get set up, but all team members should be fully aware of each disciplines' explorations in anticipation to work together to evolve these ideas.
Ideas are meant to be ugly. Jason Santa Maria
At this early stage, it's important to stress the importance of exploration, play, and idea generation. The lo-fi nature of the techniques we just discussed help encourage this exploration, allowing team members to pursue ideas that excite them. Sometimes those ideas might be best articulated as a napkin sketch, a prototype in Codpen, a visual exploration in Sketch, a quick wire in Balsamiq, a motion concept in Flash, or some combination of mediums and tools. The point is for the team to generate ideas and solve problems, not to enforce a rigid order of operations. By approaching this design exploration in a cross-disciplinary way, teams can find balance between aesthetics, technical feasibility, usability, and functionality.
With a general design direction established, the team can roll up their sleeves to build out the interface and its underlying design system. But how do teams turn a vague sense of direction into a beautiful, functional, usable, and complete design system?
Turning explorations into finished patterns is a blurry, imperfect process. This should come as absolutely no surprise to you by this point in the book.
For the TechCrunch project, Dan Mall riffed on the team's initial design conversations to create a visual exploration for the site's header. This piece of interface was a logical place to start since the header is one of the most prominent and branded elements on the page. After a little bit of work, we hopped on a call to discuss the exploration with the client.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/techcrunch-header-element-collage.png" caption="Dan Mall created an element collage to explore an aesthetic direction for the global header." %}
Even though this design artifact was a simple in-progress exploration, we were able to have important conversations about the header's aesthetics, hierarchy, and suggested functionality. Because the header was presented sans context, we were able to discuss the issues pertaining the header without stakeholders' focus wandering to other page elements.
Though the client didn't know it, I had been building out a working HTML version of the header behind the scenes in Pattern Lab.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/techcrunch-header-prototype.png" caption="Using Dan's exploration as a reference, I created an HTML version of the global header in Pattern Lab. This grayscale prototype helped us demonstrate interactivity and how the header would adapt across the resolution spectrum." %}
This grayscale prototype allowed us to demonstrate interactivity and responsiveness, which led to even more conversation. Collectively we proposed changes to the header's layout and functionality, and I was able to make changes using the browser's development tools during the call. Suddenly, the entire team and stakeholders were actively participating in the design process!
With input from the stakeholders and team, we iterated over the header pattern to massage the layout, IA, aesthetic details, and functionality to arrive at the solution we ultimately launched with.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/techcrunch-header-complete.png" caption="The header we launched with was the culmination of plenty of conversations and decisions around the pattern's content, design, and functionality." %}
Obviously the header pattern doesn't exist in a vacuum. Within Pattern Lab, the header was included in every template using Mustache's include pattern we discussed in Chapter 3.
{% raw %}{{> organisms-header }}{% endraw %}
This allowed us to view the header within the context of the rest of the pages, sketchy as they initially were. So while we were focusing on designing one specific pattern, we were simultaneously taking into account the context of where that pattern would be employed.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/techcrunch-incomplete-template.png" caption="In a more iterative process, there will be instances where some patterns are further developed than others. Seeing a partially-done page might look unusual out of context, but communication between the team and stakeholders should alleviate confusion." %}
Initially, in-browser designs tend to look crude at best, which is a-okay. The intention is to stub out the template's basic information architecture in the browser, define patterns, wire those patterns up using includes, and begin the patterns' general markup. With that work in place, the team can collectively begin styling specific patterns and refining the overall structure.
Seeing these partially-designed prototypes might look unusual to those used more traditional, pixel-perfect design deliverables. But it's far more important to communicate progress than a false sense of perfection, which is why rolling updates are preferable to big reveals.
Up until this point we've been talking about establishing a general aesthetic direction and then designing some patterns to experiment with the application of that aesthetic direction. These relatively lo-fi tactics allow teams to explore freely, iterate quickly, and get feedback sooner.
But I'll never forget this client feedback we received on the first pattern-driven project I worked on: "These element collages look great, but it's like you're asking me to comment on how beautiful a face is by showing me the nose."
If you've gotten to this point in your process, congratulations! Feedback like this means they're salivating for more, so now that you've captured a general aesthetic direction you can safely put those explorations into context. That likely involves creating full static comps.
Listen to the chatter around "designing in the browser" and you'll undoubtedly hear that Photoshop comps are the devil incarnate. Which of course isn't true. Throughout this book we've discussed the importance of breaking things down into components while simultaneously building up a cohesive whole. Static comps are effective at painting a full picture of what the UI could look like. The trick is knowing when to paint those full pictures, and knowing how long to dwell in static design documents.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/techcrunch-article-comp.png" caption="Dan Mall created a full comp to demonstrate what an article template might look like. This artifact was used to show the design system in context and get approval for the over-arching design. Design details and iterations would be handled in the browser." %}
For the TechCrunch project, we created a comp for the article template only after the client was feeling good about our element collage explorations. Creating full comps exerts a lot of effort, which is why we established design direction first to mitigate the risk of all that full-comp effort going straight into the trash if we got it totally wrong.
The comps, like any other design artifact, were used to facilitate a conversation with the project stakeholders. If their feedback is, "This feels all wrong," then it's back to the drawing board to create a new comp. But if their feedback involves, "Can we move this from here to here? Can we add a gray border around the article text? Can we increase the size of this image?" that's a sign the overall direction is in good shape and those relatively minor issues can be addressed in the browser.
Static comps can be great for shaping the over-arching aesthetic direction of a template, but users will ultimately view and interact with the experience in the browser. That's why designs should be quickly translated into the final environment and iterated upon there.
Working in the browser allows teams to address layout across the entire resolution spectrum, design around dynamic data (such as variable character lengths, image sizes, and other dynamic content), demonstrate interaction & animation, gauge performance, factor in ergonomics, and confront technical considerations (such as pixel density, text rendering, scrolling performance, and browser quirks). Static design comps cannot address this plethora of considerations, so they should be treated merely as hypotheses rather than set-in-stone blueprints. Only when in the browser can any design hypothesis truly be confirmed or rejected.
Let’s change the phrase “designing in the browser” to “deciding in the browser.” Dan Mall
Once in the browser, stay in the browser. Static design work becomes complementary to the living version. The resulting process becomes a loop of design and development work, with the front-end becoming more solid and stable with each iterative loop.
{% include figure.html src="../images/content/trent-loop.jpg" caption="This illustration by Trent Walton of Paravel perfectly articulates a more iterative design and development process. By getting designs into the browser sooner, teams can " %}
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Tighten up visuals, review usability. Have the entire team (and real users if you can swing it) hitting the working prototype.
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Beautiful thing about patterns and includes. As the front-end code progresses, the level of effort to create subsequent templates decreases dramatically. Becomes a matter of including
When do you codify a pattern? In a pattern-based workflow, it's important to understand when to establish and enforce patterns.
The team needs time to establish the UI patterns that will be used in the interface. Only when the team feels good about the pattern's general design and functionality should it be codified as a pattern.
Codifying patterns too early stifles the creativity and flexibility needed to solve problems and . Creating the parts first and blindly stitching them together patterns can be established and codified for reuse.
The website is taking shape and the team is cooking with grease to bring the website home.
- Final pass of design details
- Browser and device testing
- Tighten up documentation
- CMS integration (more on this in Chapter 5)
- Launch website. Pour champagne