#2 - A Pure Chaos and Madness called Simplicity
“Imagine trying to fold a fitted sheet while someone shouts instructions at you. Now imagine that person is also your client, and the sheet is a website. Welcome to my life.”
Like the title mentioned above, for me the very definition of simplicity is just pure chaos and madness. The journey to reach a singular cosmic truth called simplicity is just oblivious and selfish one. Here's my story.
The Branding Paradox
Let’s call my client “Lauren”. Lauren had a flawless brand identity. Her agency gave her a philosophy sharper than a TikTok therapist’s advice and visuals so sleek they could’ve been designed by high fashion sub-brand.
Then she posted on Instagram like it was 2009 MySpace. (exaggerating much of course.)
Her aesthetic? Beautifully on point! Her captions? Wonderfully blunder here and there. Her ads agency? They targeted audiences with the precision of a blindfolded archer. No strategy, no questions—just vibes and a prayer. Watching it was like seeing someone try to parallel park a giraffe. Technically, effort was made. Literally, it was a disaster.
Branding without execution is like writing a Nobel Prize speech and then reciting it to a potted plant. Sure, it’s profound, but what’s the point?
How I Learned to Fear the Word “Simple”
Lauren wanted a website for the sake of making smooth customer's experience. Great! I suggested a few decent stuffs for her own sake, unfortunately she recoiled like I’d offered her a sandwich made of bees. “I heard we need APIs! Custom templates! A pop-up that sings ‘Hallelujah’ when someone checks out!”
Meanwhile, her budget whispered: “PLEASE GOD NO.”
Months of circular debates later, she dropped: “I just want people to buy from my Instagram, with whatever works!” Cue the record scratch. The angels sang. I wept.
The Solution? Shopify Starter Plan. $5/month. Done.
It was like suggesting aspirin after she’d demanded brain surgery.
Why We All Overcomplicate Everything
Oh, the human nature twist. Clients like Lauren aren’t evil. They’re just human. And humans? We’re hardwired to equate complexity with value. Why buy a 10toasterwhenyoucanbuya10toasterwhenyoucanbuya500 “artisanal bread wellness portal” that also texts your ex?
But when reality hits (cough budgets cough), we panic-sprint back to “simple.” The problem? We drag service providers through the emotional equivalent of a mud obstacle course first.
“Simple” triggers existential dread. Clients think: “If it’s easy, does that mean I’m… basic?”
Lessons for Fellow Sanity-Seekers
- Charge Extra for “Simple”
“Easy” requests morph into 3 a.m. emails about custom cursors. Tax that chaos. (hmm.. Im quite liking and might using the "Chaos fee" on the next project.)🧐 - The “Lie Detector” Question
Ask: “What’s your ONE goal?” If they list five, say: “Cool, which kidney are you selling?” - Let Clients Eat Cake (But Make Them Bake It)
Offer tiers: “Basic” (I pretend to care), “Chaos” (I cry while doing), “God Mode” (I adopt your project and teach it to drive).
“Your sanity isn’t a free add-on. Your time isn’t a suggestion. And ‘simple’ is just code for ‘I’ll respect your boundaries as much as I respect my own Wi-Fi password.’”
Lesson learnt:
“Next time a client says ‘Keep it simple,’ hand them this post and a bill for emotional damages. Or just send them my way. I’ve got a golden spatula and a PhD in chaos.”
