Title: WHAT IF ALL SIGNS WERE DESIGNED FOR EVERYONE TO READ?
I get where you're coming from about wanting some personality in signage. Spaces do feel more inviting when there’s a bit of quirk or warmth to the details. But I’d push back a little on the idea that clarity and function can’t be “personal” or even visually interesting. Sometimes, too much focus on style—especially with fonts or icons—can actually make things less accessible, not more.
I’ve worked with families who had a mix of ages and abilities under one roof, and honestly, the most successful systems were always the ones that prioritized legibility first. There’s a reason hospitals, airports, and schools use high-contrast, sans-serif fonts and simple icons. It’s not just about being boring—it’s about making sure everyone, regardless of vision, literacy level, or even language background, can figure things out quickly. I’ve seen situations where a cute script font or a clever icon just confused people more than it helped.
That said, you’re totally right about icons helping with memory—especially for kids or anyone who thinks visually. But there’s a sweet spot. A snowflake for winter hats works because it’s obvious; but if you start getting too creative (like using abstract art or puns), it can backfire. I once saw someone label their flour jar with a cartoon of a baker—looked great, but their guests kept mistaking it for sugar.
Colorblindness is a good point too. That’s why contrast matters so much more than color itself. High-contrast black-and-white signage is usually the safest bet for accessibility. You can still add personality with shape, layout, or even material choice—think wood vs. metal vs. acrylic—without sacrificing clarity.
At the end of the day, I think “function first” doesn’t have to mean “no character.” It just means starting with what works for everyone, then layering in style where it won’t get in the way. Maybe not as fun as debating fonts for hours... but probably saves some headaches down the line.
Honestly, you nailed it with the “function first” approach. I’ve seen way too many “eco-chic” buildings where the signage looks gorgeous but leaves people wandering around lost (not so energy efficient when everyone’s circling the hallways, right?). Here’s my rule of thumb: 1) Big, bold letters. 2) Simple icons. 3) Use recycled materials or natural finishes for personality—like bamboo or reclaimed wood. That way, you get both accessibility and a little style. It’s not flashy, but it works... and no one gets stuck in the stairwell trying to find the bathroom.
Title: WHAT IF ALL SIGNS WERE DESIGNED FOR EVERYONE TO READ?
I get where you’re coming from with the “function first” mindset, and I definitely agree that clarity should trump aesthetics when it comes to signage. But I’ll admit, I’m a sucker for a little visual flair. There’s this one house I worked on—mid-century modern, lots of glass, really open concept—and the owner wanted every sign (bathroom, pantry, even the laundry chute) to be these big blocky letters on reclaimed barn wood. Looked awesome in theory. In practice? The letters were so bold and rustic that they clashed with the clean lines everywhere else. Plus, the icons were so “simple” that people kept mistaking the pantry for a powder room. It was kind of hilarious watching guests try to play detective.
What I’m getting at is, sometimes “big and bold” can actually become visual noise if it’s not balanced with the space around it. If every sign shouts at you, nothing stands out anymore. I’ve started leaning into more subtle cues—like color coding or textured finishes you can feel as you walk by (especially helpful for folks with vision issues). One project, we used smooth river stones embedded in the wall near restrooms and rougher wood near exits. People caught on pretty quick.
I do love the idea of using recycled or natural materials, but sometimes those choices end up being more about style than sustainability if they’re shipped halfway across the world just to look “green.” There’s a sweet spot between accessibility, sustainability, and aesthetics... but it’s not always as simple as big letters and bamboo panels.
Guess what I’m saying is: function matters most, but there’s room for nuance. Sometimes a little mystery or artistry makes a space memorable—just gotta make sure no one’s wandering around lost while they’re admiring the view.
WHAT IF ALL SIGNS WERE DESIGNED FOR EVERYONE TO READ?
That’s a good point about visual noise—sometimes less really is more. I’ve run into that on job sites where every safety sign is huge and bright, but after a while, folks just tune them out. I’m all for clever materials and subtle cues, but I do wonder—how do you handle it when clients want something super stylish that just doesn’t work for everyone? Ever have to talk someone out of a design choice because it’d make the space confusing?
WHAT IF ALL SIGNS WERE DESIGNED FOR EVERYONE TO READ?
I do wonder—how do you handle it when clients want something super stylish that just doesn’t work for everyone? Ever have to talk someone out of a design choice because it’d make the space confusing?
Honestly, this comes up way more often than you’d think. There’s always that temptation to go for the “wow” factor, but if nobody can figure out where the exit is, what’s the point? I’ve had to push back on some wild concepts—a client once wanted mirrored signage in a lobby. Looked cool in the renders, but in real life? Total nightmare for navigation, especially for folks with vision issues.
I get the appeal of subtlety and clever materials, but sometimes clarity just has to win. The best spaces I’ve worked on find a balance—signs that blend with the vibe but still pop when you need them. Here’s the thing: is it really “stylish” if it leaves people confused or lost? I’d argue that true design is about making everyone feel welcome and oriented, not just impressing a handful of people.
Curious if anyone’s found a way to make those high-design signs actually accessible without killing the creativity. Is there a sweet spot, or are we always sacrificing one for the other?