Crafting Beyond the Screen: The UX Behind Every Stitch

As someone who’s been typing away on a computer for a living, the digital world has become inseparable from my day-to-day life. For the past 9–10 years, I've spent countless hours in front of my laptop crafting all kinds of things: emails, Slack messages, Figma files, Figma comments – and many more. Nearly two-thirds of my 24-hour day is devoted to creating something digital. All the drafts in Google Sheets (those were the days), the copies crafted on Figma screens, the articles written on my personal blog – these are my creations. But are they really? Despite hours, weeks, and years of effort, none of this work exists beyond a screen. I can’t touch or hold it. These creations exist visually but lack physical presence, and that absence has left me questioning what it really means to “craft” something.

This sentiment hit me hardest in 2022. After two years of pandemic-induced change, the lack of tangible outcomes in my work felt particularly jarring. Ironically, for someone immersed in the digital realm, I kept thinking about how fragile it all was – just one power outage away from vanishing. Somehow, not being able to physically touch my work left me feeling unsatisfied. I craved something I could feel with my hands. I knew this wouldn’t come from my day job, which lives on screens, so I turned to a new challenge: I decided to learn sewing in late 2022.

For the past two years, I’ve been satisfying this craving by sewing. I bought myself a sewing machine and taught myself – thanks to countless YouTube videos. At first, I tried making clothes but quickly realized that crafting carry-goods felt more interesting and challenging. Now, I can make bags of all kinds: tote bags, sling bags, shoulder bags, you name it. This journey has completed me as a designer, and I think now is the perfect time to share some reflections on the surprising parallels between sewing and UX design.

Hello Again, Prototyping

When I started making bags, my first project was a simple pouch. Designing this seemingly straightforward item turned out to be quite complex. I began by sketching the design (in a notebook of course, not Figma), calculating pattern sizes, cutting fabric and then sewing. I thought it would be straightforward, but prototyping turned out to be essential. It took several tries to make the simple pouch because I kept sewing the zipper the wrong way – all because I hadn’t taken the time to prototype that part. The need to prototype everything first is a familiar concept in digital design, but it also applies to creating physical items. Rarely did I get the pattern right on the first try; most projects required rigorous prototyping – especially with expensive or rare fabrics that I didn’t want to waste. This process reminded me of the importance of prototyping and testing in my day job. It turns out I can’t escape prototyping, even when I step away from my computer.

User-Centricity is Everywhere

When I started my crafting studio in 2023, friends began asking for custom items based on their needs. One of my earliest requests came from a colleague who wanted a pouch to store her foldable headphones. She often misplaced the AUX cable when they were stored separately, so her design needs were clear: she wanted a pouch that could hold both the headphones and the cable safely. It was my job to address her needs with a user-centric design that solved her problem. This focus on user pain points and needs is fundamental to both digital and physical design. Both tangible and intangible products require user-centricity because when creating for others, you must understand their needs, right? Sounds familiar.

Design Principles Are Universal

My sewing journey has shown me how universal design principles really are. Whether working with pixels or fabric, the same concepts apply. When creating signature products for my studio, I found myself using the Laws of UX unconsciously. For example, I applied the Law of Proximity when deciding where to place inner pockets and keychain straps on a tote bag, grouping these functional elements together. I also used the Aesthetic-Usability Effect, choosing colors thoughtfully to enhance the bag’s appeal, knowing that a beautiful product would be perceived as more usable. A good concept works across mediums. Designing both software and bags requires a sense of usability and interaction because, ultimately, people will use the product – it's just the medium that changes.

After two years balancing digital and physical design, I can confidently say that the principles transfer easily between the two. In many ways, they complement each other. Crafting digitally has perks (I’ll always be grateful for Cmd+Z in my day job – something you can’t do with a sewing project), but there’s a unique satisfaction in holding a physical product of your effort. For fellow digital designers, I highly recommend exploring other creative outlets. Learn to sew, try pottery, explore oil painting – anything that allows your hands and mind to work together. You may find, as I did, that it adds a new depth to your creativity.