Service Designers: Don’t Forget You’re Designers First

Disclaimer: borderline ranting.

Details of Marzia’s new studio in Palermo ;)

In the past year, I’ve had more conversations and coaching sessions than I can count with design leaders and practitioners at that wonderfully existential moment, the job switch. You know the one—"Who am I now?", "What do I stand for?", "Should I even have a portfolio? How do I show my value when most of my work isn’t very tangible?" The questions vary, but the pattern is consistent.

They come to me looking for help finding their story, their edge, their tone of voice. It's like Tinder for careers—except instead of choosing between “dog lover” and “adventure junkie”, you're choosing between “strategic thinker”, “systems nerd”, and “service design ninja”. Riveting stuff.

Now, some of these people don’t come from design. They’ve wandered in from management consulting, tech, even the odd anthropology degree. They fell in love with the promise of service design—the post-it note choreography, the systems maps, the intoxicating scent of purpose. And honestly? I love that. Design should be expansive.

But here’s the thing.

The stuff they show me? Is ugly.

I don’t mean minimalist, or stripped-back, or deliberately raw. I mean PowerPoint created during a mild fever dream, with typefaces battling for dominance and colours that look like they were chosen by an algorithm trained on 2004 clipart.

And I just have to ask: When did we collectively decide that being a "strategic" or "service" designer gave us a free pass on aesthetics? When did storytelling become synonymous with bullet points on a beige slide?

Here’s my point for today: a service designer is still a designer. The moment we start treating visual design like it’s someone else’s problem, we lose the plot. Literally.

Information is the medium

If you want to persuade, influence, get that job, convince that client, sell that service—you’re not just telling a story. You’re designing one. And in this business, how the story looks is part of how it lands.

Design is not just about what you say, but how it’s felt. And visual communication is not decoration—it’s structure. It’s emphasis. It’s the difference between someone understanding your thinking and someone nodding while secretly checking their inbox.

Great storytelling in design isn’t about theatrics. It’s about clarity, rhythm, hierarchy. It’s about knowing when to whisper and when to punch.

What if visuals aren’t your thing?

I understand that not everyone’s a visual virtuoso. If Illustrator terrifies you and you think Figma is a new yoga pose, that’s fine. But here’s the deal—you still need to make your work look decent. Not award-winning. Just… not painful.

Hopefully, you’ve got at least an eye for it. If not, develop one. Train yourself to spot when something looks like a design crime. And if you can’t tell? Ask someone who can.

Use templates—but good ones. Not the default ones that come with your software, unless you want to be mistaken for a management consultant on their fifth coffee. Use grid systems. Use alignment. Use whitespace like it’s your best friend. Choose one typeface and stick with it. Learn to love consistency.

Tools like Canva can do half the job for you. And no, it’s not cheating. It’s resourceful. Your goal is to communicate clearly and convincingly—not to reinvent Bauhaus.

Remember: this isn’t about making something pretty for the sake of it. It’s about showing you understand how to engage an audience, even visually. It’s about showing taste. And yes, taste is part of strategy.

This isn’t just a rant (okay, maybe a little)

I’m not saying everyone needs to be a UI god or moonlight as a motion designer. But if you're presenting yourself as a designer—and especially as someone shaping experiences, orchestrating services, or leading teams—then how you show up visually matters. It’s part of your craft. And frankly, it’s part of your credibility.

So, to the new wave of service and strategic designers: Welcome. We need you. We really do. But don’t forget what field you’re playing on. Even if your tools are interviews and systems maps, you still have to make the case like a designer.

Make it beautiful. Make it engaging. Make it desirable. Make it sing.

Or at the very least, make it readable.