The classic adage is “good design speaks for itself.” Which would mean that if something’s as good of an idea as you think it is, a client will instantly see that it’s good too, right?

Here at Viget, we’re always working with new and different clients. Each with their own challenges and sensibilities. But after ten years of client work, I can’t help but notice a pattern emerge when we’re trying to get approval on especially cool, unconventional parts of a design.

So let’s break down some of those patterns to hopefully better understand why clients hesitate, and what strategies we’ve been using lately to help get the work we’re excited about approved.

Imagine this: the parallax homepage with elements that move around in surprising ways or a unique navigation menu that conceptually reinforces a site’s message. The way the content cards on a page will, like, be literal cards that will shuffle and move around. Basically, any design that feels like an exciting, novel challenge, will need the client to “get it.” And that often turns out to be the biggest challenge of all.

There are plenty of practical reasons cool designs get shot down. A client is usually more than one stakeholder, and more than the team of people you’re working with directly. On any project, there’s an amount of telephone you end up playing. Or, there’s always the classic foes: budgets and deadlines. Any idea should fit in those predetermined constraints. But as a project goes along, budgets and deadlines find a way to get tighter than you planned.

But innovative designs and interactions can seem especially scary for clients to approve. There’s three fears that often pop up on projects:

The fear of change. 

Maybe the client expected something simple, a light refresh. Something that doesn’t challenge their design expectations or require more time and effort to understand. And on our side, maybe we didn’t sufficiently ease them into our way of thinking and open them up to why we think something bigger and bolder is the right solution for them. Baby steps, y’all.

The fear of the unknown. 

Or, less dramatically, a lack of understanding of the medium. In the past, we have struggled with how to present an interactive, animated design to a client before it’s actually built. Looking at a site that does something conceptually similar as an example can be tough. It’s asking a lot of a client’s imagination to show them a site about boots that has a cool spinning animation and get meaningful feedback about how a spinning animation would work on their site about after-school tutoring. Or maybe we’ve created static designs, then talked around what we envision happening. Again, what seems so clear in our minds as professionals entrenched in this stuff every day can be tough for someone outside the tech world to clearly understand.

The fear of losing control. 

We’re all about learning from past mistakes. So lets say, after dealing with that fear of the unknown on a project, next time you go in the opposite direction. You invest time up front creating something polished. Maybe you even get the developer to build a prototype that moves and looks like the real thing. You’ve taken all the vague mystery out of the process, so a client will be thrilled, right? Surprise, probably not! Most clients are working with you because they want to conquer the noble quest that is their redesign together. When we jump straight to showing something that looks polished, even if it’s not really, it can feel like we jumped ahead without keeping them involved. Like we took away their input. They can also feel demotivated to give good, meaningful feedback on a polished prototype because it looks “done.”

So what to do? Lately we have found low-fidelity prototypes to be a great tool for combating these fears and better communicating our ideas.

What are low-fidelity prototypes?

Low fidelity prototypes are a tool that designers can create quickly to illustrate an idea, without sinking time into making it pixel-perfect. Some recent examples of prototypes we've created include a clickable Figma or Invision prototype put together with Whimsical wireframes:

A rough animation created in Principle illustrating less programatic animation:

And even creating an animated storyboard in Photoshop:

They’re rough enough that there’s no way they could be confused for a final product. But customized so that a client can immediately understand what they’re looking at and what they need to respond to. Low-fidelity prototypes hit a sweet spot that addresses those client fears head on.

That fear of change? A lo-fi prototype starts rough and small, so it can ease a client into a dramatic change without overwhelming them. It’s just a first step. It gives them time to react and warm up to something that’ll ultimately be a big change.

It also cuts out the fear of the unknown. Seeing something moving around, even if it’s rough, can be so much more clear than talking ourselves in circles about how we think it will move, and hoping the client can imagine it. The feature is no longer an enigma cloaked in mystery and big talk, but something tangible they can point at and ask concrete questions about.

And finally, a lo-fi prototype doesn’t threaten a client’s sense of control. Low-fidelity means it’s clearly still a work in progress! It’s just an early step in the creative process, and therefore communicates that we’re still in the middle of that process together. There’s still plenty of room for their ideas and feedback.

Lo-fi prototypes: client-tested, internal team-approved

There are a lot of reasons to love lo-fi prototypes internally, too!

They’re quick and easy. 

We can whip up multiple ideas within a few hours, without sinking the time into getting our hearts set on any one thing. In an agency setting especially, time is limited, so the faster we can get an idea out of our own heads, the better.

They’re great to share with developers. 

Ideally, the whole team is working together simultaneously, collaborating every step of the way. Realistically, a developer often doesn’t have time during a project’s early design phase. Lo-fi prototypes are concrete enough that a developer can quickly tell if building an idea will be within scope. It helps us catch impractical ideas early and helps us all collaborate to create something that’s both cool and feasible.

Stay tuned for posts in the near future diving into some of our favorite processes for creating lo-fi prototypes!

Setting it up

First, here's the config setup you need to even allow for such a radical concept.

1. Define the global gitignore file as a global Git configuration:

   git config --global core.excludesfile ~/.gitignore
   

   If you're on OSX, this command will add the following config lines in your ~/.gitconfig file.

   [core]
     excludesfile = /Users/triplegirldad/.gitignore
   

2. Load that ~/.gitignore file up with whatever you want. It probably doesn't exist as a file yet so you might have to create it first.

Harnessing its incredible power

There are only two lines in my global gitignore file and they are both fairly useful pretty much all the time.

$ cat ~/.gitignore
TODO.md
playground

This 2 line file means that no matter where I am, what project I'm working on, where in the project I'm doing so, I have an easy space to stash notes, thoughts, in progress ideas, spikes, etc.

TODO.md

More often than not, I'm fiddling around with a TODO.md file. Something about writing markdown in your familiar text editor speaks to my soul. It's quick, it's easy, you have all the text editing tricks available to you, and it never does anything you wouldn't expect (looking at you auto-markdown-formatting editors). I use one or two # for headings, I use nested lists, and I ask for nothing more. Nothing more than more TODO.md files that is!

In practice I tend to just have one TODO.md file per project, right at the top, ready to pull up in a few keystrokes. Which I do often. I pull this doc up if:

• I'm in a meeting and I just said "oh yeah that's a small thing, I'll knock it out this afternoon".
• I'm halfway through some feature development and realize I want to make a sweeping refactor elsewhere. Toss some thoughts in the doc, and then get back to the task at hand.
• It's the end of the day and I have to switch my brain into "feed small children" mode, thus obliterating everything work-related from my short term memory. When I open things up the next day and know exactly what the next thing to dive into was.
• I'm preparing for a big enough refactor and I can't hold it all in my brain at once. What I'd give to have an interactive 3D playground for brain thoughts, but in the meantime a 2D text file isn't a terrible way to plan out dev work.

playground

Sometimes you need more than some human words in a markdown file to move an idea along. This is where my playground directory comes in. I can load this directory up with code that's related to a given project and keep it out of the git history. Because who doesn't like a place to play around.

I find that this directory is more useful for long running maintenance projects over fast moving greenfield ones. On the maintenance projects, I tend to find myself assembling a pile of scripts and experiments for various situations:

• The client requests a one-time obscure data export. Whip up some CSV generation code and save that code in the playground directory.
• The client requests a different obscure data export. Pull up the last time you did something vaguely similar and save yourself the startup time.
• A batch of data needs to be imported just once. Might as well stash that in the chance that "just once" is actually "just a few times".
• Kicking the tires on an integration with a third party service.

Some of these playground files end up being useful more times than I can count (eg: the ever-changing user_export.rb script). Some items get promoted into application code, which is always fun. But most files here serve their purpose and then wither away. And that's fine. It's a playground, anything goes.

Wrapping up

Having a personal space for project-specific notes and code has been helpful to me over the years as a developer on multiple projects. If you have your own organizational trick, or just want to brag about how you memorize everything without any markdown files, let me know in the comments below!

The classic adage is “good design speaks for itself.” Which would mean that if something’s as good of an idea as you think it is, a client will instantly see that it’s good too, right?

Here at Viget, we’re always working with new and different clients. Each with their own challenges and sensibilities. But after ten years of client work, I can’t help but notice a pattern emerge when we’re trying to get approval on especially cool, unconventional parts of a design.

So let’s break down some of those patterns to hopefully better understand why clients hesitate, and what strategies we’ve been using lately to help get the work we’re excited about approved.

Imagine this: the parallax homepage with elements that move around in surprising ways or a unique navigation menu that conceptually reinforces a site’s message. The way the content cards on a page will, like, be literal cards that will shuffle and move around. Basically, any design that feels like an exciting, novel challenge, will need the client to “get it.” And that often turns out to be the biggest challenge of all.

There are plenty of practical reasons cool designs get shot down. A client is usually more than one stakeholder, and more than the team of people you’re working with directly. On any project, there’s an amount of telephone you end up playing. Or, there’s always the classic foes: budgets and deadlines. Any idea should fit in those predetermined constraints. But as a project goes along, budgets and deadlines find a way to get tighter than you planned.

But innovative designs and interactions can seem especially scary for clients to approve. There’s three fears that often pop up on projects:

The fear of change. 

Maybe the client expected something simple, a light refresh. Something that doesn’t challenge their design expectations or require more time and effort to understand. And on our side, maybe we didn’t sufficiently ease them into our way of thinking and open them up to why we think something bigger and bolder is the right solution for them. Baby steps, y’all.

The fear of the unknown. 

Or, less dramatically, a lack of understanding of the medium. In the past, we have struggled with how to present an interactive, animated design to a client before it’s actually built. Looking at a site that does something conceptually similar as an example can be tough. It’s asking a lot of a client’s imagination to show them a site about boots that has a cool spinning animation and get meaningful feedback about how a spinning animation would work on their site about after-school tutoring. Or maybe we’ve created static designs, then talked around what we envision happening. Again, what seems so clear in our minds as professionals entrenched in this stuff every day can be tough for someone outside the tech world to clearly understand.

The fear of losing control. 

We’re all about learning from past mistakes. So lets say, after dealing with that fear of the unknown on a project, next time you go in the opposite direction. You invest time up front creating something polished. Maybe you even get the developer to build a prototype that moves and looks like the real thing. You’ve taken all the vague mystery out of the process, so a client will be thrilled, right? Surprise, probably not! Most clients are working with you because they want to conquer the noble quest that is their redesign together. When we jump straight to showing something that looks polished, even if it’s not really, it can feel like we jumped ahead without keeping them involved. Like we took away their input. They can also feel demotivated to give good, meaningful feedback on a polished prototype because it looks “done.”

So what to do? Lately we have found low-fidelity prototypes to be a great tool for combating these fears and better communicating our ideas.

What are low-fidelity prototypes?

Low fidelity prototypes are a tool that designers can create quickly to illustrate an idea, without sinking time into making it pixel-perfect. Some recent examples of prototypes we've created include a clickable Figma or Invision prototype put together with Whimsical wireframes:

A rough animation created in Principle illustrating less programatic animation:

And even creating an animated storyboard in Photoshop:

They’re rough enough that there’s no way they could be confused for a final product. But customized so that a client can immediately understand what they’re looking at and what they need to respond to. Low-fidelity prototypes hit a sweet spot that addresses those client fears head on.

That fear of change? A lo-fi prototype starts rough and small, so it can ease a client into a dramatic change without overwhelming them. It’s just a first step. It gives them time to react and warm up to something that’ll ultimately be a big change.

It also cuts out the fear of the unknown. Seeing something moving around, even if it’s rough, can be so much more clear than talking ourselves in circles about how we think it will move, and hoping the client can imagine it. The feature is no longer an enigma cloaked in mystery and big talk, but something tangible they can point at and ask concrete questions about.

And finally, a lo-fi prototype doesn’t threaten a client’s sense of control. Low-fidelity means it’s clearly still a work in progress! It’s just an early step in the creative process, and therefore communicates that we’re still in the middle of that process together. There’s still plenty of room for their ideas and feedback.

Lo-fi prototypes: client-tested, internal team-approved

There are a lot of reasons to love lo-fi prototypes internally, too!

They’re quick and easy. 

We can whip up multiple ideas within a few hours, without sinking the time into getting our hearts set on any one thing. In an agency setting especially, time is limited, so the faster we can get an idea out of our own heads, the better.

They’re great to share with developers. 

Ideally, the whole team is working together simultaneously, collaborating every step of the way. Realistically, a developer often doesn’t have time during a project’s early design phase. Lo-fi prototypes are concrete enough that a developer can quickly tell if building an idea will be within scope. It helps us catch impractical ideas early and helps us all collaborate to create something that’s both cool and feasible.

Stay tuned for posts in the near future diving into some of our favorite processes for creating lo-fi prototypes!

Setting it up

First, here's the config setup you need to even allow for such a radical concept.

1. Define the global gitignore file as a global Git configuration:

   git config --global core.excludesfile ~/.gitignore
   

   If you're on OSX, this command will add the following config lines in your ~/.gitconfig file.

   [core]
     excludesfile = /Users/triplegirldad/.gitignore
   

2. Load that ~/.gitignore file up with whatever you want. It probably doesn't exist as a file yet so you might have to create it first.

Harnessing its incredible power

There are only two lines in my global gitignore file and they are both fairly useful pretty much all the time.

$ cat ~/.gitignore
TODO.md
playground

This 2 line file means that no matter where I am, what project I'm working on, where in the project I'm doing so, I have an easy space to stash notes, thoughts, in progress ideas, spikes, etc.

TODO.md

More often than not, I'm fiddling around with a TODO.md file. Something about writing markdown in your familiar text editor speaks to my soul. It's quick, it's easy, you have all the text editing tricks available to you, and it never does anything you wouldn't expect (looking at you auto-markdown-formatting editors). I use one or two # for headings, I use nested lists, and I ask for nothing more. Nothing more than more TODO.md files that is!

In practice I tend to just have one TODO.md file per project, right at the top, ready to pull up in a few keystrokes. Which I do often. I pull this doc up if:

• I'm in a meeting and I just said "oh yeah that's a small thing, I'll knock it out this afternoon".
• I'm halfway through some feature development and realize I want to make a sweeping refactor elsewhere. Toss some thoughts in the doc, and then get back to the task at hand.
• It's the end of the day and I have to switch my brain into "feed small children" mode, thus obliterating everything work-related from my short term memory. When I open things up the next day and know exactly what the next thing to dive into was.
• I'm preparing for a big enough refactor and I can't hold it all in my brain at once. What I'd give to have an interactive 3D playground for brain thoughts, but in the meantime a 2D text file isn't a terrible way to plan out dev work.

playground

Sometimes you need more than some human words in a markdown file to move an idea along. This is where my playground directory comes in. I can load this directory up with code that's related to a given project and keep it out of the git history. Because who doesn't like a place to play around.

I find that this directory is more useful for long running maintenance projects over fast moving greenfield ones. On the maintenance projects, I tend to find myself assembling a pile of scripts and experiments for various situations:

• The client requests a one-time obscure data export. Whip up some CSV generation code and save that code in the playground directory.
• The client requests a different obscure data export. Pull up the last time you did something vaguely similar and save yourself the startup time.
• A batch of data needs to be imported just once. Might as well stash that in the chance that "just once" is actually "just a few times".
• Kicking the tires on an integration with a third party service.

Some of these playground files end up being useful more times than I can count (eg: the ever-changing user_export.rb script). Some items get promoted into application code, which is always fun. But most files here serve their purpose and then wither away. And that's fine. It's a playground, anything goes.

Wrapping up

Having a personal space for project-specific notes and code has been helpful to me over the years as a developer on multiple projects. If you have your own organizational trick, or just want to brag about how you memorize everything without any markdown files, let me know in the comments below!

The classic adage is “good design speaks for itself.” Which would mean that if something’s as good of an idea as you think it is, a client will instantly see that it’s good too, right?

Here at Viget, we’re always working with new and different clients. Each with their own challenges and sensibilities. But after ten years of client work, I can’t help but notice a pattern emerge when we’re trying to get approval on especially cool, unconventional parts of a design.

So let’s break down some of those patterns to hopefully better understand why clients hesitate, and what strategies we’ve been using lately to help get the work we’re excited about approved.

Imagine this: the parallax homepage with elements that move around in surprising ways or a unique navigation menu that conceptually reinforces a site’s message. The way the content cards on a page will, like, be literal cards that will shuffle and move around. Basically, any design that feels like an exciting, novel challenge, will need the client to “get it.” And that often turns out to be the biggest challenge of all.

There are plenty of practical reasons cool designs get shot down. A client is usually more than one stakeholder, and more than the team of people you’re working with directly. On any project, there’s an amount of telephone you end up playing. Or, there’s always the classic foes: budgets and deadlines. Any idea should fit in those predetermined constraints. But as a project goes along, budgets and deadlines find a way to get tighter than you planned.

But innovative designs and interactions can seem especially scary for clients to approve. There’s three fears that often pop up on projects:

The fear of change. 

Maybe the client expected something simple, a light refresh. Something that doesn’t challenge their design expectations or require more time and effort to understand. And on our side, maybe we didn’t sufficiently ease them into our way of thinking and open them up to why we think something bigger and bolder is the right solution for them. Baby steps, y’all.

The fear of the unknown. 

Or, less dramatically, a lack of understanding of the medium. In the past, we have struggled with how to present an interactive, animated design to a client before it’s actually built. Looking at a site that does something conceptually similar as an example can be tough. It’s asking a lot of a client’s imagination to show them a site about boots that has a cool spinning animation and get meaningful feedback about how a spinning animation would work on their site about after-school tutoring. Or maybe we’ve created static designs, then talked around what we envision happening. Again, what seems so clear in our minds as professionals entrenched in this stuff every day can be tough for someone outside the tech world to clearly understand.

The fear of losing control. 

We’re all about learning from past mistakes. So lets say, after dealing with that fear of the unknown on a project, next time you go in the opposite direction. You invest time up front creating something polished. Maybe you even get the developer to build a prototype that moves and looks like the real thing. You’ve taken all the vague mystery out of the process, so a client will be thrilled, right? Surprise, probably not! Most clients are working with you because they want to conquer the noble quest that is their redesign together. When we jump straight to showing something that looks polished, even if it’s not really, it can feel like we jumped ahead without keeping them involved. Like we took away their input. They can also feel demotivated to give good, meaningful feedback on a polished prototype because it looks “done.”

So what to do? Lately we have found low-fidelity prototypes to be a great tool for combating these fears and better communicating our ideas.

What are low-fidelity prototypes?

Low fidelity prototypes are a tool that designers can create quickly to illustrate an idea, without sinking time into making it pixel-perfect. Some recent examples of prototypes we've created include a clickable Figma or Invision prototype put together with Whimsical wireframes:

A rough animation created in Principle illustrating less programatic animation:

And even creating an animated storyboard in Photoshop:

They’re rough enough that there’s no way they could be confused for a final product. But customized so that a client can immediately understand what they’re looking at and what they need to respond to. Low-fidelity prototypes hit a sweet spot that addresses those client fears head on.

That fear of change? A lo-fi prototype starts rough and small, so it can ease a client into a dramatic change without overwhelming them. It’s just a first step. It gives them time to react and warm up to something that’ll ultimately be a big change.

It also cuts out the fear of the unknown. Seeing something moving around, even if it’s rough, can be so much more clear than talking ourselves in circles about how we think it will move, and hoping the client can imagine it. The feature is no longer an enigma cloaked in mystery and big talk, but something tangible they can point at and ask concrete questions about.

And finally, a lo-fi prototype doesn’t threaten a client’s sense of control. Low-fidelity means it’s clearly still a work in progress! It’s just an early step in the creative process, and therefore communicates that we’re still in the middle of that process together. There’s still plenty of room for their ideas and feedback.

Lo-fi prototypes: client-tested, internal team-approved

There are a lot of reasons to love lo-fi prototypes internally, too!

They’re quick and easy. 

We can whip up multiple ideas within a few hours, without sinking the time into getting our hearts set on any one thing. In an agency setting especially, time is limited, so the faster we can get an idea out of our own heads, the better.

They’re great to share with developers. 

Ideally, the whole team is working together simultaneously, collaborating every step of the way. Realistically, a developer often doesn’t have time during a project’s early design phase. Lo-fi prototypes are concrete enough that a developer can quickly tell if building an idea will be within scope. It helps us catch impractical ideas early and helps us all collaborate to create something that’s both cool and feasible.

Stay tuned for posts in the near future diving into some of our favorite processes for creating lo-fi prototypes!

Setting it up

First, here's the config setup you need to even allow for such a radical concept.

1. Define the global gitignore file as a global Git configuration:

   git config --global core.excludesfile ~/.gitignore
   

   If you're on OSX, this command will add the following config lines in your ~/.gitconfig file.

   [core]
     excludesfile = /Users/triplegirldad/.gitignore
   

2. Load that ~/.gitignore file up with whatever you want. It probably doesn't exist as a file yet so you might have to create it first.

Harnessing its incredible power

There are only two lines in my global gitignore file and they are both fairly useful pretty much all the time.

$ cat ~/.gitignore
TODO.md
playground

This 2 line file means that no matter where I am, what project I'm working on, where in the project I'm doing so, I have an easy space to stash notes, thoughts, in progress ideas, spikes, etc.

TODO.md

More often than not, I'm fiddling around with a TODO.md file. Something about writing markdown in your familiar text editor speaks to my soul. It's quick, it's easy, you have all the text editing tricks available to you, and it never does anything you wouldn't expect (looking at you auto-markdown-formatting editors). I use one or two # for headings, I use nested lists, and I ask for nothing more. Nothing more than more TODO.md files that is!

In practice I tend to just have one TODO.md file per project, right at the top, ready to pull up in a few keystrokes. Which I do often. I pull this doc up if:

• I'm in a meeting and I just said "oh yeah that's a small thing, I'll knock it out this afternoon".
• I'm halfway through some feature development and realize I want to make a sweeping refactor elsewhere. Toss some thoughts in the doc, and then get back to the task at hand.
• It's the end of the day and I have to switch my brain into "feed small children" mode, thus obliterating everything work-related from my short term memory. When I open things up the next day and know exactly what the next thing to dive into was.
• I'm preparing for a big enough refactor and I can't hold it all in my brain at once. What I'd give to have an interactive 3D playground for brain thoughts, but in the meantime a 2D text file isn't a terrible way to plan out dev work.

playground

Sometimes you need more than some human words in a markdown file to move an idea along. This is where my playground directory comes in. I can load this directory up with code that's related to a given project and keep it out of the git history. Because who doesn't like a place to play around.

I find that this directory is more useful for long running maintenance projects over fast moving greenfield ones. On the maintenance projects, I tend to find myself assembling a pile of scripts and experiments for various situations:

• The client requests a one-time obscure data export. Whip up some CSV generation code and save that code in the playground directory.
• The client requests a different obscure data export. Pull up the last time you did something vaguely similar and save yourself the startup time.
• A batch of data needs to be imported just once. Might as well stash that in the chance that "just once" is actually "just a few times".
• Kicking the tires on an integration with a third party service.

Some of these playground files end up being useful more times than I can count (eg: the ever-changing user_export.rb script). Some items get promoted into application code, which is always fun. But most files here serve their purpose and then wither away. And that's fine. It's a playground, anything goes.

Wrapping up

Having a personal space for project-specific notes and code has been helpful to me over the years as a developer on multiple projects. If you have your own organizational trick, or just want to brag about how you memorize everything without any markdown files, let me know in the comments below!

The classic adage is “good design speaks for itself.” Which would mean that if something’s as good of an idea as you think it is, a client will instantly see that it’s good too, right?

Here at Viget, we’re always working with new and different clients. Each with their own challenges and sensibilities. But after ten years of client work, I can’t help but notice a pattern emerge when we’re trying to get approval on especially cool, unconventional parts of a design.

So let’s break down some of those patterns to hopefully better understand why clients hesitate, and what strategies we’ve been using lately to help get the work we’re excited about approved.

Imagine this: the parallax homepage with elements that move around in surprising ways or a unique navigation menu that conceptually reinforces a site’s message. The way the content cards on a page will, like, be literal cards that will shuffle and move around. Basically, any design that feels like an exciting, novel challenge, will need the client to “get it.” And that often turns out to be the biggest challenge of all.

There are plenty of practical reasons cool designs get shot down. A client is usually more than one stakeholder, and more than the team of people you’re working with directly. On any project, there’s an amount of telephone you end up playing. Or, there’s always the classic foes: budgets and deadlines. Any idea should fit in those predetermined constraints. But as a project goes along, budgets and deadlines find a way to get tighter than you planned.

But innovative designs and interactions can seem especially scary for clients to approve. There’s three fears that often pop up on projects:

The fear of change. 

Maybe the client expected something simple, a light refresh. Something that doesn’t challenge their design expectations or require more time and effort to understand. And on our side, maybe we didn’t sufficiently ease them into our way of thinking and open them up to why we think something bigger and bolder is the right solution for them. Baby steps, y’all.

The fear of the unknown. 

Or, less dramatically, a lack of understanding of the medium. In the past, we have struggled with how to present an interactive, animated design to a client before it’s actually built. Looking at a site that does something conceptually similar as an example can be tough. It’s asking a lot of a client’s imagination to show them a site about boots that has a cool spinning animation and get meaningful feedback about how a spinning animation would work on their site about after-school tutoring. Or maybe we’ve created static designs, then talked around what we envision happening. Again, what seems so clear in our minds as professionals entrenched in this stuff every day can be tough for someone outside the tech world to clearly understand.

The fear of losing control. 

We’re all about learning from past mistakes. So lets say, after dealing with that fear of the unknown on a project, next time you go in the opposite direction. You invest time up front creating something polished. Maybe you even get the developer to build a prototype that moves and looks like the real thing. You’ve taken all the vague mystery out of the process, so a client will be thrilled, right? Surprise, probably not! Most clients are working with you because they want to conquer the noble quest that is their redesign together. When we jump straight to showing something that looks polished, even if it’s not really, it can feel like we jumped ahead without keeping them involved. Like we took away their input. They can also feel demotivated to give good, meaningful feedback on a polished prototype because it looks “done.”

So what to do? Lately we have found low-fidelity prototypes to be a great tool for combating these fears and better communicating our ideas.

What are low-fidelity prototypes?

Low fidelity prototypes are a tool that designers can create quickly to illustrate an idea, without sinking time into making it pixel-perfect. Some recent examples of prototypes we've created include a clickable Figma or Invision prototype put together with Whimsical wireframes:

A rough animation created in Principle illustrating less programatic animation:

And even creating an animated storyboard in Photoshop:

They’re rough enough that there’s no way they could be confused for a final product. But customized so that a client can immediately understand what they’re looking at and what they need to respond to. Low-fidelity prototypes hit a sweet spot that addresses those client fears head on.

That fear of change? A lo-fi prototype starts rough and small, so it can ease a client into a dramatic change without overwhelming them. It’s just a first step. It gives them time to react and warm up to something that’ll ultimately be a big change.

It also cuts out the fear of the unknown. Seeing something moving around, even if it’s rough, can be so much more clear than talking ourselves in circles about how we think it will move, and hoping the client can imagine it. The feature is no longer an enigma cloaked in mystery and big talk, but something tangible they can point at and ask concrete questions about.

And finally, a lo-fi prototype doesn’t threaten a client’s sense of control. Low-fidelity means it’s clearly still a work in progress! It’s just an early step in the creative process, and therefore communicates that we’re still in the middle of that process together. There’s still plenty of room for their ideas and feedback.

Lo-fi prototypes: client-tested, internal team-approved

There are a lot of reasons to love lo-fi prototypes internally, too!

They’re quick and easy. 

We can whip up multiple ideas within a few hours, without sinking the time into getting our hearts set on any one thing. In an agency setting especially, time is limited, so the faster we can get an idea out of our own heads, the better.

They’re great to share with developers. 

Ideally, the whole team is working together simultaneously, collaborating every step of the way. Realistically, a developer often doesn’t have time during a project’s early design phase. Lo-fi prototypes are concrete enough that a developer can quickly tell if building an idea will be within scope. It helps us catch impractical ideas early and helps us all collaborate to create something that’s both cool and feasible.

Stay tuned for posts in the near future diving into some of our favorite processes for creating lo-fi prototypes!

Setting it up

First, here's the config setup you need to even allow for such a radical concept.

1. Define the global gitignore file as a global Git configuration:

   git config --global core.excludesfile ~/.gitignore
   

   If you're on OSX, this command will add the following config lines in your ~/.gitconfig file.

   [core]
     excludesfile = /Users/triplegirldad/.gitignore
   

2. Load that ~/.gitignore file up with whatever you want. It probably doesn't exist as a file yet so you might have to create it first.

Harnessing its incredible power

There are only two lines in my global gitignore file and they are both fairly useful pretty much all the time.

$ cat ~/.gitignore
TODO.md
playground

This 2 line file means that no matter where I am, what project I'm working on, where in the project I'm doing so, I have an easy space to stash notes, thoughts, in progress ideas, spikes, etc.

TODO.md

More often than not, I'm fiddling around with a TODO.md file. Something about writing markdown in your familiar text editor speaks to my soul. It's quick, it's easy, you have all the text editing tricks available to you, and it never does anything you wouldn't expect (looking at you auto-markdown-formatting editors). I use one or two # for headings, I use nested lists, and I ask for nothing more. Nothing more than more TODO.md files that is!

In practice I tend to just have one TODO.md file per project, right at the top, ready to pull up in a few keystrokes. Which I do often. I pull this doc up if:

• I'm in a meeting and I just said "oh yeah that's a small thing, I'll knock it out this afternoon".
• I'm halfway through some feature development and realize I want to make a sweeping refactor elsewhere. Toss some thoughts in the doc, and then get back to the task at hand.
• It's the end of the day and I have to switch my brain into "feed small children" mode, thus obliterating everything work-related from my short term memory. When I open things up the next day and know exactly what the next thing to dive into was.
• I'm preparing for a big enough refactor and I can't hold it all in my brain at once. What I'd give to have an interactive 3D playground for brain thoughts, but in the meantime a 2D text file isn't a terrible way to plan out dev work.

playground

Sometimes you need more than some human words in a markdown file to move an idea along. This is where my playground directory comes in. I can load this directory up with code that's related to a given project and keep it out of the git history. Because who doesn't like a place to play around.

I find that this directory is more useful for long running maintenance projects over fast moving greenfield ones. On the maintenance projects, I tend to find myself assembling a pile of scripts and experiments for various situations:

• The client requests a one-time obscure data export. Whip up some CSV generation code and save that code in the playground directory.
• The client requests a different obscure data export. Pull up the last time you did something vaguely similar and save yourself the startup time.
• A batch of data needs to be imported just once. Might as well stash that in the chance that "just once" is actually "just a few times".
• Kicking the tires on an integration with a third party service.

Some of these playground files end up being useful more times than I can count (eg: the ever-changing user_export.rb script). Some items get promoted into application code, which is always fun. But most files here serve their purpose and then wither away. And that's fine. It's a playground, anything goes.

Wrapping up

Having a personal space for project-specific notes and code has been helpful to me over the years as a developer on multiple projects. If you have your own organizational trick, or just want to brag about how you memorize everything without any markdown files, let me know in the comments below!