I Love Raw

I love raw. Raw things, raw people, raw code, raw food—everything in its original, unadulterated form. Maybe it’s the simplicity behind it all. Who knows?

There’s something about raw things that feels liberating. They’re untainted by the clutter and materialism that’s choking the world around us.

People

Take people, for example:
I admire the natural, unsculpted beards and mustaches on men. Women without layers of makeup? Absolutely. Simple, unbranded clothes? Yes, please. Sharp-edged, practical furniture—or better yet, no furniture at all? Bliss.

And no, this isn’t about that pretentious “minimalism” trend—the one with sprawling homes filled with overpriced white furniture that costs more than all the clutter it supposedly replaces.

I like food that’s unpretentious, too. A sprinkle of salt or pepper—done. Coffee without milk, sometimes even without sugar. Perfect.

Design | Freelancing

Then there’s my obsession: CSS-free websites. Plain HTML with a touch of styling. Vanilla code without bloated frameworks or plugins. A website that’s centered on content.

I had—thanks to ALLAH (SW)—a successful and profitable design career across industries like education, energy management, and healthcare. Yet, no matter how well things went, I often had to “find inspiration” in someone else’s work or settle for tweaking a template. It was fine—thanks to ALLAH (SW)—but freelancing? That was a nightmare.

Freelancing meant catering to clients who dreamed of having a subjective, modern-looking website. “Can you make the logo bigger?” they’d ask. I hated that phrase. Adjusting colors to appease a CEO who couldn’t care less about branding guidelines, color theory, composition, or accessibility? how anoying. Fake designs for fake websites promoting fake companies with subpar services. All fluff, no substance.

Here’s the typical nightmare:

A CEO with a half-baked “vision” delegates the design task to a marketing manager. The manager finds a freelancer (me) or a design firm. We meet, discuss “requirements,” “look and feel,” and that eternally ridiculous mission/vision nonsense. Then the circus starts. Everyone and their cousin at the company has “suggestions” for the first draft. The louder your voice, the closer you are to the boss, the more likely your idiotic idea gets implemented. Doesn’t matter if it’s absurd—they’ll pay for it anyway.

And UX? Don’t even get me started. UX jargon is mostly dressed-up common sense. Designing for seniors? Sure, make your icons bigger, ditch the sliders, and that’s it. Do we really need fancy terms for that? What’s next? “Breaking News: The sky is blue, and seawater is salty.”

Edward Tufte said something along the lines of:
“Good design cannot rescue poor content.”

Yes, please. Raw, honest, simple content wins every time.

This is why I couldn’t stomach my UX design career any longer. Even as a UX Consultant in a prestigious organization, the nonsense was unbearable.

I love raw. And I disgust your fake, overpriced, overhyped bubbles.