It’s okay to make mistakes: Stories of design projects gone wrong

Let’s talk about mistakes, screw-ups, and failures—they’re scary words most people avoid, but in reality, they’re an essential part of any career, especially in design, where subjectivity and convention rule. Technical flaws, miscommunication, or misaligned expectations—they’re all frustrating, but more often than not, mistakes teach you more than success ever could. The key is to look closely at what went wrong, take responsibility, and carry that lesson forward.

For this article, we spoke with designers and studio owners who openly shared their mistakes and the lessons they took from them.

Here are the voices behind those stories:

Vasilis Skandalos, Director & Founder of Something Nue Studio.

María Marago, graphic designer from Madrid.

Denis True, Founder of Pocket Rocket Agency.

Gustavo Faria, Brazilian multidisciplinary designer and art director.

Esme Greaves, Designer at Peculiar Studio.

Thomas John Hayes, Founder of Thom John Studio.

Edeline Go, Senior designer at Landscape.

“Get things in writing”

Vasilis Skandalos: A few months ago, I took on a project to animate a set of logo idents. The agreement was made over a video call—no contract, no written offer, just a verbal go-ahead based on mutual trust. That decision, in hindsight, set the tone for everything that followed.

The collaboration quickly became challenging. Communication was unclear, revision cycles dragged on, and expectations shifted without alignment. When it became clear the work would require more time than originally discussed, I let the client know there would be an additional cost. That didn’t go over well. They insisted I hadn’t communicated that earlier and refused to pay any extra fees.

I offered to step away and hand over the working files in exchange for payment for the completed work. They declined. The situation escalated—there were several unpleasant exchanges, and even legal pressure. Thankfully, I’d secured a 30% deposit, but I never received the rest.

At the time, it was frustrating. I questioned my decisions, and it took a toll on my energy and confidence. But that discomfort pushed me to reassess how I work.

I learned that clarity upfront isn’t about formality—it’s about creating the conditions for good work.

Now, I never start a project without a written agreement, a clear scope, and a shared understanding of how we’ll collaborate. That structure gives both sides the freedom to focus on what really matters. The experience also made me more selective and more grounded. I’ve learned to trust my gut, ask more questions early on, and pay attention when something feels off before it becomes a problem.

Don’t skip the basics. Get things in writing.

“Adapt the process depending on the client”

María Marago: One of my first clients was a family member of a close friend—someone I didn’t know very well, so I figured, what’s the worst that can happen? I’m a perfectionist by nature, and while that can be an asset, in this case, it wasn’t.

The client needed a rebrand and a website. She ran a luxury holiday rental business, liked my style, and thought we’d be a good match. We landed on a solution that was minimalist, clean, and had personality—something different from the typical rental platforms. I worked alongside a programmer through development, and when we presented the final site, she told me she loved it. Then, out of nowhere, she said she’d shown it to a friend who said it was “very badly designed” and that I needed to start over. This friend, by the way, wasn’t a designer. 

At first, I felt crushed. The programmer and I had worked hard for months, and the feedback came after final delivery. After taking some time to process, I calmly reminded the client that our contract outlined a set number of revisions and approvals. If she wanted to start over, we’d need to revisit the budget. In the end, she didn’t want to spend more, so we made changes that, in my view, made the design more conventional—less unique, and less interesting. I think she felt safer doing what others were doing instead of standing out. 

I used to get really discouraged when clients resisted design advice or asked for something “radically new,” only to backpedal toward the familiar. But I’ve learned that if someone truly wants to keep things the same, even if they say they want a complete overhaul, they’ll revise your work until it looks like the original. Fighting that can be a waste of energy.

As designers, we’re supposed to guide clients toward the best solution—like a doctor prescribing treatment. But in our field, everyone has an opinion. And let’s face it: it’s easier to comment on fonts and colors than it is to tell your surgeon how to fix your leg.

Now, I approach projects differently. I no longer over-invest in proposals before establishing a clear direction. I adapt my process depending on the client—more experimental for those open to change, more practical for those who prefer the familiar. I've learned to read how much change someone is really comfortable with, and work within that.

“Great results don’t come only from a talented team”

Denis True: Once, we had two projects with similar complexity and budgets. On one, we held workshops for the client on the history of design and best practices from global brands. On the other, for various reasons, we didn’t—this wasn’t yet a standard step in our process. 

On the project without the workshop, we delivered three versions: two bold, fresh, ultra-modern concepts, and one safer, more conventional option, mostly because the contract required three. The client chose the third. Not because it was better, but because he wasn’t ready for bold decisions. He simply didn’t have the visual vocabulary to engage with them.

In contrast, the project with the workshop played out differently. The client and I went through a mini-course together: we studied global cases, gathered references, and discussed why some solutions work and others don’t. He approached the bold options with an informed eye, without fear of the unfamiliar. As å result, the project won a Red Dot and now stands out clearly in the market.

That experience flipped a lot of things for us. We realized that great results don’t come only from a talented team—they come from how we work with the client. Today, that educational workshop and mini-course on global best practices is our killer feature. The workshop is led by the brand strategist and art director who will later create the actual strategy and design system. We arrived at this organically until it became a critical part of our process. This approach allows us not just to design a logo, but to build a brand that lives—one that stands out, inspires, and solves real business problems.

“Communication is everything”

Gustavo Faria: Some time ago, I was responsible for creating the visual identity of a project for a big brand, and I was loving the process. I felt a lot of trust from the team, which really helped everything flow. The result was a well-resolved design: different from what everyone expected, but praised and approved. I was thrilled, of course.

After approval, I handed off the files to my teammates so they could move forward based on what I’d created. When the project was nearly ready to launch publicly, I decided to check out the final presentation, and when I opened the link… I was shocked. The main element I’d designed for the visual identity was completely different. To me, it made no sense. That change stripped away the entire creative logic behind the concept everyone had loved.

I asked what had happened, and they told me it was a client request. I was deeply frustrated, sad, and honestly, pretty mad. It was a project I was proud of, but after that, it felt stained—like something I couldn’t clean up.

At the time, I was still a mid-level designer, and there were a lot of people above me making decisions on my behalf, which I understood. But I did learn a few key things.

First: communication is everything.

Even if someone’s below you in the hierarchy, a clear and respectful feedback process leads to better results than trying to fix things solo.

So I learned not to repeat what was done to me—haha.

I also realized how important it is to keep improving: stay sharp, update your references, and learn new things, so that even if someone doesn’t want to delegate or give feedback (which kind of contradicts the first lesson), at least the execution is solid.

Don’t sacrifice creative integrity, process, or values

Esme Greaves: Finding work as a small studio or freelancer can be notoriously difficult, so when someone starting their own agency approached me for design support, it felt like a promising opportunity.

But once we started working together, it quickly became clear that our approaches to design—and to work in general—were fundamentally different. The focus was on speed and high-volume output, with little regard for the time and thinking that good design requires. This led to endless revisions (and frustration), mostly because communication between the agency and their client hadn’t been clear from the start.

That misalignment made me reflect deeply on my values as a designer, and whether I was willing to compromise them for a paycheck. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.

At the time, it felt like a loss. I was early in my freelance career, and watching the relationship fizzle out felt like failure. But with some distance and reflection, I now see it as a valuable turning point. It helped me define what I look for in clients and projects.

Freelancing requires openness, but not at the expense of creative integrity, process, or values.

I now make sure everyone I work with understands and is comfortable with the design and research process. Rushing visuals only leads to surface-level work with limited impact, which ultimately hurts the client more than it helps.

“too much too fast. lets pause”

Thomas John Hayes: When I first started out as a freelance designer, I got connected with a well-known executive who needed something turned around “yesterday.” I agreed to take on what was supposed to be a one-week job condensed into a three-day design sprint.

After a sleepless 48 hours, I delivered what I thought was a solid first pass. His response was just six unpunctuated words that felt more like a breakup text than executive feedback: “too much too fast. lets pause”

At the time, it felt like I hadn’t struggled long enough or creatively enough, like I was a proud dog dropping a dead squirrel at his feet: eager, but off the mark.

And apparently, I was. In my rush to meet an impossible deadline, I’d lost the core tone of the project. Now I was paused—frozen in a kind of ego wasteland or creative cacotopia I really didn’t want to be perceived in.

Eventually, we got on a call and agreed to wait until it made more sense for both of our schedules. A couple months later, he reached back out to pick things up. This time, I set clearer expectations around timeline and process. That shift gave us space to actually learn each other’s collaboration styles. In the end, he was really happy with the final product, and he’s since sent me a steady stream of work and new clients.

“Not everything has to go live to be meaningful”

Edeline Go: There was a branding and e-commerce project I worked on closely with the founder for several months. It was a full rebrand: visual identity, packaging, digital, illustration—the whole ecosystem. We went through rounds of proofing and print testing, and had a strong direction we were all excited about. It felt like one of those rare projects where everything was aligned.

But toward the end, things started stalling. Eventually, we found out the business was struggling financially, and they had to shut everything down. The new brand never launched, and none of the work made it into the world. It was disappointing, especially after putting in so much energy, but also just a tough reality of working in early-stage brand building.

It was honestly pretty heartbreaking. As designers, we often tie our value to the impact our work makes once it’s out in the world, so having a fully built brand just disappear feels like a loss. But it taught me something important: not everything has to go live to be meaningful. That project still holds value—for the team, for the client (in the process we went through), and for me personally.

It reminded me to focus on the quality of the process, the collaboration, and how I show up throughout, not just the final product.

Now, with more experience, I’ve learned to be a bit more detached from outcomes I can’t control. I’m more focused on building strong, clear relationships with clients early on, aligning expectations, being realistic about what’s possible, and keeping the process adaptable. I also try to make sure the work has value beyond the final launch, whether it’s clarifying a brand’s direction, helping a team make better decisions, or serving as a case study for future projects.