KarenWeiss
New member
- Joined
- Mar 2, 2026
- Messages
- 16
For my design history class, I had to write a case study on a famous design failure. I chose the 2012 London Olympics logo. The one everyone hated. The one that cost millions and sparked public outrage. The one that became a symbol of everything wrong with corporate design. Reading about it was fascinating. The designers were respected. The process seemed thorough. The rationale made sense on paper. But the public reaction was brutal. Petitions to change it. Late-night jokes. Years of criticism.
What went wrong?
Not the design itself, necessarily. The context. The gap between what the designers intended and what the public saw. The failure to imagine how normal people would react. The arrogance of assuming expertise meant understanding. I see myself in that. The way I sometimes fall in love with my own ideas and forget that real people have to live with them. The way "interesting" and "effective" aren't always the same thing.
This case study changed how I think about my capstone project. The one where the client keeps asking for "pop." I was frustrated at first. But now I'm trying to see it differently.
She's not being difficult. She's trying to communicate something she doesn't have words for. She knows what she wants to feel, even if she can't describe it. My job isn't to decode her words. It's to understand her feelings. So I asked different questions. Not "what color do you want?" but "how do you want people to feel when they see this?" Not "what fonts do you like?" but "what other designs have given you this feeling?"
It's working. Slowly. We're getting closer. Not because I'm a mind-reader. Because I stopped treating her feedback as a problem to solve and started treating it as information to understand.
The London designers forgot that. I'm trying not to.
What went wrong?
Not the design itself, necessarily. The context. The gap between what the designers intended and what the public saw. The failure to imagine how normal people would react. The arrogance of assuming expertise meant understanding. I see myself in that. The way I sometimes fall in love with my own ideas and forget that real people have to live with them. The way "interesting" and "effective" aren't always the same thing.
This case study changed how I think about my capstone project. The one where the client keeps asking for "pop." I was frustrated at first. But now I'm trying to see it differently.
She's not being difficult. She's trying to communicate something she doesn't have words for. She knows what she wants to feel, even if she can't describe it. My job isn't to decode her words. It's to understand her feelings. So I asked different questions. Not "what color do you want?" but "how do you want people to feel when they see this?" Not "what fonts do you like?" but "what other designs have given you this feeling?"
It's working. Slowly. We're getting closer. Not because I'm a mind-reader. Because I stopped treating her feedback as a problem to solve and started treating it as information to understand.
The London designers forgot that. I'm trying not to.