We are constantly researching and discovering new creative people in our line of work. The ones who rise to the surface usually have something in common.

The designers, artists, illustrators, photographers and animators who get noticed either:

A. Are extremely talented or skilled
B. Have a “thing”
C. Have a “thing” and are extremely good at it

In other words, it’s the exceptions that get attention. To find a story newsworthy, a journalist needs an angle. For your work to stand out, you need an angle, too. That leaves you with one of the three above options.

I find the second option the most interesting: Having a “thing.” If you’re not yet extremely good at what you do, this is your backdoor to getting your work noticed.

By having a thing I mean, creating something so niche and so particular to you, we are drawn to it out of sheer curiosity and novelty. You don’t necessarily need to be amazing at your thing. You just need to be the only one who does it.

Now the tricky part is, you can’t necessarily fake or force this. The people who become known for their niche usually don’t start out with the desire to become known. They are simply pursuing a weird, unusual, singular interest – and going all in on that. I can name several of them I’ve seen just this week: An illustrator who exclusively draws puppies. An artist obsessed with upending the power dynamic between men and women. A 3D motion designer focused entirely on mushrooms.

"The point is that you open yourself up to your genuine, specific and even weird fixations."

These people found something that interested them, something they couldn't get out of their head, and made it their specialty. Nobody even considered puppies a possible specialty before this illustrator claimed it. No one would have guessed mushrooms would catapult a 3D designer into the public sphere. We didn’t think of it ourselves until someone else showed us how interesting it could be.

This passion may be fleeting, and that’s fine. It’s those passing interests that lead me to my best side projects. And those side projects inevitably lead to other opportunities. The point is that you open yourself up to your genuine, specific and even weird fixations. Don’t judge them. Don’t overthink them. Just follow them and see where they lead you.

If something specific fascinates you – even if it’s as seemingly mundane as the way light hits dust in a photograph, or how chewed gum might look as an animated character  – let yourself follow that interest as far as your heart desires.

Getting noticed is a nice side effect. Exploring uncharted territory is the greatest thrill of all.

The leather marquetry shows the beauty of curves and sides of the animal skin, these leather parts always thrown out by the fashion industry.

This is how most designers feel as they begin their career. Our hopes and expectations are high. We're convinced we deserve these opportunities. We're designers! The world needs our creative vision!

I know because I felt that way too. But I eventually learned what's even more exciting than the big projects and adoring audiences. It's what I like to (very creatively) call Boring Design.

Boring design is focusing on the things that aren't seen or immediately appreciated, but can have an equal or even greater impact as "the cool stuff."

A friend of mine used to say, "Design the best Terms & Conditions page the world has ever seen." Meaning: Take a seemingly boring opportunity and turn it into a great one.

By doing so, you may in fact end up designing an award-winning Terms & Conditions page. One that reinvents the way we look at Terms & Conditions (usually a neglected page with walls of text nobody wants to read). One that's celebrated for years to come. And even if you're not changing the game, you will at the very least sleep well at night, because you as the designer gave it your very best. It's a mark of character and professionalism to apply your skills and love for detail across the board, seen or unseen.

Steve Jobs was famous for wanting to make the Apple computer look as beautifully designed on inside as on the outside. He could have gotten away with leaving it as it is. Why put in the time, effort, attention and money into designing something no one will ever see? But somehow, he couldn't let it go. It was his dedication and attention to detail that defined Apple from the beginning.

Boring design is obsessing over a "I forgot my password" recovery flow, making it easier, better and more delightful than ever. No one asked for it. But once you've experienced a better solution, you'll find everything else weirdly outdated.

Boring design is designing a beautiful invoice to send to your clients. You could send them a standard one; they're paying you regardless of how that invoice looks. But you do it anyway. You want to make them feel GOOD about paying your invoice every time they see it. You want your client's accountant to rave about your invoice behind your back. "This is the most beautiful invoice I've ever seen."

Boring design, in reality, is just design. It's just not the flashy kind. It might not be the kind that earns you standing ovations or followers online. But to me, it is as equally important as everything else. It's a matter of pride.

Often, nostalgia gives an undeserved sparkle to memories. We remember the “good old days” with fondness and judge the present more harshly. We glaze over the bad times and remember only the pleasant ones, convinced things were better then. This is not the case with the Golden Age of Advertising.

The 1960s through the 1980s were the days of pure creativity. Advertisements were still sketched by hand and printed. Copywriters had big, original ideas (often arrived at over a martini or two at lunch). Ad people were also celebrities, respected for their creativity and cunning. 

Of course, advertising culture is another story – just watch “Mad Men” if you’re unaware of the sexism in the industry, and general society, at that time. 

What we’re speaking about here, though, are the advertisements themselves. They were good. A single print ad made a brand or redefined it. One sentence changed your perception, created a trend or built a loyal fanbase. An advertisement was a work of art.

Several decades later, the art of advertising is dead. What was once a full-page print ad is now a website banner. What was once a smart headline is now a tired pun. What was once nuanced is now on the nose. What was once focused on the consumer’s interests now leans on the product’s features. What was once simple is now overworked.

Ads today (with a few exceptions) are overlooked at best and annoying at worst, popping up on our screen and tricking us into clicks. Programmatic buying has turned advertising into pandering, intrusive slop. Advertising has changed so much we rarely call it advertising anymore. It is now, and I shudder to speak the word, “marketing.”

And so, we will continually reflect fondly on the Golden Age of Advertising and find our inspiration there. And perhaps this selection of ads from that era will inspire you as well. 

Looking at these ads compared to those of today, don’t you agree we can all do better?

Often, nostalgia gives an undeserved sparkle to memories. We remember the “good old days” with fondness and judge the present more harshly. We glaze over the bad times and remember only the pleasant ones, convinced things were better then. This is not the case with the Golden Age of Advertising.

The 1960s through the 1980s were the days of pure creativity. Advertisements were still sketched by hand and printed. Copywriters had big, original ideas (often arrived at over a martini or two at lunch). Ad people were also celebrities, respected for their creativity and cunning. 

Of course, advertising culture is another story – just watch “Mad Men” if you’re unaware of the sexism in the industry, and general society, at that time. 

What we’re speaking about here, though, are the advertisements themselves. They were good. A single print ad made a brand or redefined it. One sentence changed your perception, created a trend or built a loyal fanbase. An advertisement was a work of art.

Several decades later, the art of advertising is dead. What was once a full-page print ad is now a website banner. What was once a smart headline is now a tired pun. What was once nuanced is now on the nose. What was once focused on the consumer’s interests now leans on the product’s features. What was once simple is now overworked.

Ads today (with a few exceptions) are overlooked at best and annoying at worst, popping up on our screen and tricking us into clicks. Programmatic buying has turned advertising into pandering, intrusive slop. Advertising has changed so much we rarely call it advertising anymore. It is now, and I shudder to speak the word, “marketing.”

And so, we will continually reflect fondly on the Golden Age of Advertising and find our inspiration there. And perhaps this selection of ads from that era will inspire you as well. 

Looking at these ads compared to those of today, don’t you agree we can all do better?