Pretty UI won’t get you hired anymore: A designer’s brutal wake-up call
Five years ago, this designer had to turn recruiters away. Now his inbox is dead silent. Here’s what changed.
I caught up with a very experienced designer recently, we’ve known each other for years at this point. He’s one of those designers everyone wanted to hire back in 2019/20.
Note: If you’re new here, I’m Mindaugas, founder of Coho, the private network for senior designers. I talk to designers of all levels every single day and have done so for over a decade. Often designers share complex career situations with me and sometimes allow me to write about them edited for clarity and confidentiality.
Here’s how our conversation went:
Designer: “I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. Five years ago, I barely had to look because companies were reaching out constantly. Now? Nothing. It’s like the rules of the game completely changed and no one told us.”
Me: “When did you start actively looking?”
Designer: “Three or four months ago, right after the layoffs. At first, I wasn’t too worried. I’ve got good experience, worked at well-known companies. But it’s like walking into a different industry.”
Me: “Different how?”
Designer: “Well, for one, nobody’s responding to applications. I’ve sent out maybe 100+ by now? Used to be that you’d at least get a recruiter screen. And LinkedIn… it’s just crickets, every job has 100s of applications, no one knows if the jobs are real or fake. Last time I was looking, I had to turn recruiters away.”
Me: “That silence must be jarring.”
Designer: “Jarring yes, it starts to weigh on you. Last time we talked you mentioned you’re often talking to people who have been looking for 9 months or more. I can’t even imagine what that must feel like. All of this is making me question everything. Like, was I actually good at what I did, or was I just lucky to be in the right place at the right time? When companies were desperate for designers, maybe they overlooked things…”
Me: “What do you mean by overlooked?”
Designer: “I’ve been going through my portfolio lately, really scrutinising it. Five years ago, I could show a few clean UI’s, talk about user research, and that was enough. Companies were fighting over designers. Now I’m looking at my work through different eyes and wondering if it actually shows the value I brought.”
Me: “Different eyes? Tell me more.”
Designer: “Yeah, I had this project I was really proud of. Redesigned our entire checkout flow. But now I’m realising that I documented what I did, but not why it mattered. Not the business impact. I’m presenting it like it’s 2019, when companies had the luxury of hiring for pure craft.”
Me: “And now?”
Designer: “Now every hire has to be justified. Every dollar accounted for. I was at a meetup last week, talking to other designers who are looking. One of them said something interesting: ‘Companies aren’t hiring designers anymore. They’re hiring business problems solvers who can design.’”
Me: “How did that land with you?”
Designer: “At first I was a little resistant to the idea. Like, isn’t good design supposed to be enough? But then I sat with that idea for a moment. I started thinking about the designers I know who are still getting offers. They’re not necessarily the best designers visually, or at least their portfolios aren’t focused on visual perfection. But they all have this way of connecting their work to business outcomes. They talk about metrics, they focus on what their work actually achieved for the business.”
Me: “You mentioned earlier you changed your approach. What did you do?”
Designer: “I stopped spraying and praying, for one. I read your article about job hunting but also had this moment of clarity after a particularly rough rejection. I was doing what worked five years ago, polished portfolio, clean resume, apply to posted jobs. But the game is very different now.”
Me: “How so?”
Designer: “It’s all about networks and specificity. Each application is a mini-research project for me now. Instead of applying to 100 companies, I identified 20 where I could really understand their problems. Started reaching out to people who work there, not to ask for referrals right away, but to genuinely learn. I also took a moment to think about what industries are still growing and hiring because companies are still hiring but a lot has changed and I had to become aware of those changes. Basically, I had to take a step back, take a breath and really zoom out to understand what’s going on, who’s hiring, why and who they’re actually hiring.”
Me: “And that worked better?”
Designer: “Not immediately. But something interesting did start happening. Those conversations led to other conversations. People started mentioning challenges their teams were facing. I could speak to those specific problems in my applications. Suddenly, I wasn’t just another designer showing pretty mockups but someone who understood their context.”
Me: “Give me an example. What did you actually say in these messages?”
Designer: “Sure. Here’s one I sent to a senior designer at a company I like: ‘Hey, saw your post about redesigning the analytics dashboard. I’ve been using your product for years and noticed something interesting about how the filtering works compared to competitors. Would love to hear your thinking behind that decision.’”
Me: “And they responded?”
Designer: “Yeah. We ended up having this great conversation about user behaviour and technical constraints. Later, they actually asked about my job search themselves. Felt natural by that point since we’d spent twenty minutes geeking out about design problems. They then introduced me to a friend who’s actually hiring at another company. It works.”
Me: “That sounds like a lot more work than just applying online.”
Designer: “God, yes. It’s exhausting. I’m preaching to the choir here but building these connections takes real time. Though last week I had another moment showing me why it matters. Had this call with a hiring manager that felt completely different. They’d seen my comment on Linkedin to one of their designers about an interesting pattern in their onboarding flow. The whole interview was about actual problems their team is facing, ways they could improve conversion. None of the usual portfolio walk-through stuff. Got the second round scheduled for next week.”
Me: “You sound different talking about this approach versus how you started our conversation.”
Designer: “Yeah… I mean, I’m still frustrated. The market’s still tough. But I feel like I have agency again. Before, I was just shouting into the void. Now at least I know that when I reach out to someone, I have something specific to say.”
Me: “What would you tell other designers struggling?”
Designer: “Stop looking for jobs the way you did five years ago, we all know and hear that the market’s overcrowded with talent. You have to show you’ve done your homework. And maybe more importantly… accept that it’s going to take longer than it used to. I was so frustrated at first because I was measuring against 2019 timelines. This is a different game.”
Me: “You mentioned specific strategies that worked. What actually moved the needle?”
Designer: “Looking back, there was this turning point. I’d spent weeks perfecting my portfolio. New case studies, better visuals. But after another rejection, this friend, she’s a design director, looked at it and said something that really helped.”
Me: “What was it?”
Designer: “She asked me why I’d buried the most interesting parts in paragraphs of process documentation. Like this project where we completely rethought user onboarding. I had all these wireframes and journey maps, but the real story on how we reduced customer support tickets by 40% was hidden in the middle somewhere.”
Me: “Nice, that’s great advice.”
Designer: “Yeah, it made me realise I was telling the wrong story. Every case study started with ‘The Challenge’ and ended with the solution. Classic design thinking framework, right? But I was missing what actually mattered to hiring managers right now.”
Me: “Which is?”
Designer: “Revenue impact. Team dynamics. How I handled constraints. Real, tangible things. Take this other project where we had to design without engineering resources for three months. Crazy limitation. But we found ways to improve conversion with just copy and layout changes. That’s the kind of thing that resonates.”
Me: “How do you know it resonates?”
Designer: “Started getting different responses when I’d reach out to people. Before, it was all polite ‘thanks for sharing.’ Or silence. Now they’re actually engaging. Had a VP of Design reply last week saying my approach to resource constraints was exactly what they’re dealing with.”
Me: “That must have felt validating.”
Designer: “It did. But it also made me a bit angry, if I’m honest. Why are we playing this game where everyone pretends design is just about craft and process, when what actually matters is dealing with budget cuts, conflicting stakeholder needs, and shipping something that works even when conditions aren’t perfect?”
Me: “Tell me more?”
Designer: “Well… I spent years perfecting my craft. Learning about typography, interaction patterns, research methodologies. And that matters. It really does. But now I’m realising that was table stakes all along. The actual differentiator is how you navigate everything else. Politics. Limited resources. Competing priorities. I’m glad you’re keeping this conversation anonymous because I’m coming around to the idea that we’ve put design up on this precious pedestal, and I’m starting to think that’s exactly why we’re not valued like other roles. Engineering and product got there first, sure. That is historically ingrained in how companies are built from the ground up. But look at how every other function adapted. Marketing shows revenue impact. Sales has clear numbers. Even HR tracks retention metrics. Meanwhile, we’re still arguing that design can’t be measured, that we’re too ‘creative’ to be tied to business outcomes. We’ve done this to ourselves by refusing to speak the language of business.”
Me: “That’s a strong take.”
Designer: “Yeah, but am I wrong? When was the last time you saw a design case study lead with business metrics instead of pretty mockups or a photo with post-its on the wall? We talk about user-centered design but shy away from business-centered reality. No wonder we’re the first to get cut when times get tough.”
Me: “So how has this realisation changed things for you?”
Designer: “I basically said f**k it and stopped paying attention to the design debates on how a portfolio should and shouldn’t look, I’m more honest now. Last interview, they asked about my biggest design challenge. Before, I would have talked about some complex interaction problem. Instead, I told them about managing a major redesign when our team got cut in half. How we reprioritised, what we sacrificed, what we protected.”
Me: “How did the interviewer respond to that kind of honesty?”
Designer: “He sat back and just nodded. Then he told me something I wasn’t expecting. Their team had just gone through the exact same thing. They’ve got this massive platform redesign planned but lost headcount in the last round of cuts. Now they’re trying to figure out how to deliver with half the resources.”
Me: “I bet that opened up a very different conversation.”
Designer: “We spent the next thirty minutes talking about prioritisation frameworks. Real things, you know? Not the usual ‘walk me through your design process’ script. The funny thing is, I probably wouldn’t have had that conversation six months ago.”
Me: “Why not?”
Designer: “I was too busy trying to be the perfect candidate. Show how I followed all the best practices, used all the right tools. Now I’m just… honest about the mess. About figuring things out as you go.”
Me: “You mentioned something earlier about your portfolio. How has that evolved?”
Designer: “I threw out half of it. Those polished case studies with perfect user flows and neat conclusions are gone. Replaced them with the complicated projects. The ones where we had to change direction halfway through. Where stakeholders disagreed. Where we launched something that wasn’t perfect but moved metrics.”
Me: “Did that feel risky?”
Designer: “A little. But you know what my last interviewer said? ‘Finally, a portfolio that shows what design work actually looks like.’ He was tired of seeing case studies that looked like Medium articles about the perfect design process.”
Me: “What about the rejections though? Still getting those?”
Designer: “Yeah. But they feel different now. Had a call last week that didn’t work out, but the hiring manager actually explained why. They loved my approach but needed someone with more experience in enterprise software. That’s useful feedback. Better than the automated ‘we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates’ emails.”
Me: “You seem… calmer about it all.”
Designer: “Look, I’m still scared sometimes. Rent is expensive, savings aren’t infinite. But I’m not frantically applying to every job posting anymore. I’m having great conversations with people about real problems. Sometimes they turn into opportunities, sometimes they don’t.”
Me: “Curious, what triggered this change?”
Designer: “Exhaustion, honestly. I couldn’t keep doing the same thing and expecting different results. Had to admit that everything I knew about job hunting was outdated. The industry is different now. More mature maybe. Or just more honest about what it needs.”
Me: “Looking back at these last few months, what’s the biggest shift in your mindset?”
Designer: “At first I thought this market was broken. That design was losing its value. But now I see it differently. The market’s just grown up. It’s not enough to be a good designer anymore, you have to be good at understanding how design fits into the bigger picture.”
Me: “And the job hunt itself?”
Designer: “Yesterday I found my old list of companies I was targeting back in September immediately after the layoff. 60+ places. Now my list has 20. But I know exactly why I want to work at each one, what problems they’re trying to solve, and how I could help. That focus, it really does change everything.”
He paused, then added something that I loved:
“Everyone keeps saying the market is terrible for designers right now. Maybe it is. But I’m starting to think we’re just being forced to be more intentional. To really understand the business we’re in, not just the pixels we push.”
Hi, I’m Mindaugas.
I’ve spent the past decade working with designers from companies like Netflix, Google, Amazon, Intercom, and OpenAI. At On Deck, I built the Design Fellowship, and at InVision, I created design communities on a global scale. Before this, I was a design recruiter which enabled me to help 100’s of designers land their dream jobs.
Through thousands of conversations, I’ve helped designers navigate career transitions, land roles they didn’t think possible, get promotions, and understand what’s happening in the market.
Now, I’m building Coho, a private network for designers to have the kinds of conversations that change careers. Small, focused groups meet every two weeks to tackle challenges, exchange insights, and grow together.
Free career support
- In February, I’m hosting two FREE lightning lessons with Maven:
- Why Designers Get Stuck: Patterns from 1,000 Conversations
- Intentional Career Mapping: Future-Proof Your Design Path
Both are short, focused sessions packed with insights I’ve gathered from working with designers like you.
2. Free career navigation & layoff office hours
I also host free office hours for designers navigating layoffs or career transitions. Small groups of max 5 designers, honest conversations, every Thursday at 9am PST.
