I loved anything creative – from drawing to writing – and I was fairly good at computers, too, but unlike most of my peers who knew what they wanted to be, I didn’t. But then I discovered the world wide web, and everything changed.
Discovering Creativity in the Early Web
Back in the 90’s, the Internet was extremely different to what we’re used to using today. Websites in particular were nothing like the slick modern experiences we come to expect now.
Designing a website meant working with a fixed colour palette, using system fonts, and building pages that would work on small screen resolutions for users with connection speeds working in kilobytes a second.
The Web as the Wild West
As a result, the web felt more like the wild west, lacking rules around things like consistency and quality standards. Rarely did two websites look or work in the same way, with designers using whatever format they wanted for elements like page navigation and calls to action.
While this meant many sites were tricky to use, it also meant this was a time where experimentation and playfulness sat front and centre.
The Rise of Rules, Standards and Frameworks
Over the years, design ‘language’, standards, rules and frameworks have crept in, and have made browsing the web a more familiar experience when moving from one site to another.
While this has been a good thing overall, it has led to the commoditisation of design, where the majority of websites all look and feel like the same thing; standard navigation, pictures in boxes, 3-column grids dictating placement of content, and adherence to certain guidelines and standards ruling out anything out of the norm.
What Uniformity Has Taken Away
While I understand the need for uniformity, what I feel has been lost in the race to a more uniform web, is the opportunity to deepen engagement with the brand through playfulness.
Good, thoughtful design isn’t just about making things faster and reducing friction. Sometimes, friction is a good thing, because it makes people slow down, pause, and appreciate what’s in front of them for a fleeting moment. And while many websites will profess to optimise for speed, clarity and conversion, that single-minded focus can come at the expense of character, warmth and memorability.
Playfulness, when done well, is not the enemy of usability. It is often what makes an experience human. Small moments of surprise, delight or even mild confusion can create emotional connection in a way that pure efficiency rarely does. A subtle animation that responds to curiosity, a line of copy that breaks expectation, an interaction that feels considered rather than purely functional. These moments do not slow people down in a harmful way, they invite them in.
The problem with being playful
The problem is that playfulness has become synonymous with risk. Risk to conversion rates, risk to accessibility scores, risk to stakeholder approval. And so it is often stripped out early, replaced with patterns that feel safe, proven and familiar. But safety is not the same as effectiveness. Familiarity can help people navigate, but it does not make them care.
When everything looks the same, brands lose one of their most powerful tools, distinctiveness. If every site uses the same layouts, the same interactions and the same visual language, then the only remaining differentiator is price, scale or convenience. Playfulness gives brands another dimension. It allows them to express values, tone and personality through experience, not just words.
Importantly, playfulness does not mean chaos. It does not mean ignoring accessibility, best practice or performance. The most successful playful experiences are often underpinned by rigorous thinking. Clear information architecture, predictable patterns where they matter most, and strong technical foundations. The difference is that these foundations are used as a platform for expression, not a constraint that flattens everything above it.
I don't have time for that
There is also a misconception that users do not have time for this sort of thing anymore. That people are too busy, too distracted, too goal-driven. In reality, people are overwhelmed by sameness. They scroll through endless feeds of identical layouts and recycled ideas. When something behaves differently, when it feels crafted rather than assembled, it stands out. It earns attention rather than demanding it.
Some of the most memorable digital experiences are not the fastest. They are the ones that made you smile, think or feel seen. The ones you remember long after you have forgotten the hundred other sites that technically worked just fine. These experiences often contain moments of intentional friction. A pause. A reveal. A decision that feels playful rather than transactional.
As designers, strategists and creators, we should be asking harder questions. Not just “does this work?” but “does this feel like us?” Not just “is this efficient?” but “is this engaging?” Rules and frameworks are tools, not truths. They exist to support better outcomes, not to remove personality from the process.
The early web was messy, inconsistent and often frustrating. But it was also alive with possibility. We do not need to return to that chaos to recapture its spirit. We can design experiences that are robust, accessible and performant, while still allowing room for play.
Being playful isn't about nostalgia, it's about recognising that people aren't robots, and that browsing does not have to be boring. When we give ourselves permission to loosen the rulebook, even slightly, we create space for experiences that are not just usable, but meaningful.