I was working on a website/logo/rebranding project. The client wanted her logo to be a nice medium blue. Cool. Easy.

While working on the website:

Client: “Can you make the header black? I want a really dark header.”

Black made the logo look almost neon. She didn’t see anything wrong with that. This was the first sign that things weren’t going to go well.

I did some work to make sure everything fit together, making sure to pick fonts and colors that worked with what she wanted without clashing too much.

Me: “Okay, I have everything together. Log in and have a look.”

Client: “Great! I’ve had a look, and I made a few changes.”

I had a look, and everything was a nightmare. She’d changed the background to a purple that looked like old wine, with bright white block text in bold. There was no difference between her headers and her text body. Random seafoam colors littered the screen.

I cringed and then did my best to alter it slightly. I found a color that matched the logo in tone, instead of clashing like something from an ’80s sitcom.

After I showed her what I’d done, she polled fifteen of her friends for their opinions. This caused her to lecture me about why her design was better… for three hours.

I’ve since dropped said client.  

A friend of mine asked me if it was possible to create a logo for someone she knew who was starting an outdoor fitness and personal training business. There were some red flags, but I was a bit strapped for cash at the time, so I accepted.

Client: “I am starting a fitness business and would like a logo. I have a Word file with some designs I like. My favorite is on top.”

Her “favorite” was horrible WordArt with orange drop shadows, clashing saturated colors, and a gradient that had no business being there.

Client: “I’d also like to include a cartoon teardrop lifting a dumbbell with one arm while hanging from the company name.”

She attached clipart examples of teardrops with faces she liked. I explained to her that this was far too busy for a logo. She agreed to some revisions.

For about a month, we went back and forth. I’d send new designs based on her feedback, and then she’d decide it wasn’t what she wanted. Eventually, I was beginning to lose patience, and for kicks, I sent her an exact copy of the WordArt she showed me originally — without the teardrop character.

Client: “Oh, my God, that’s perfect! That’s the one!”

All of us freelancers have had a few nightmare contracts — but hey, the good thing is that we’re only usually tied in for a few months, so we generally try to keep our heads down until it’s over and politely decline a renewal. This was one of those.

I was subcontracted as a designer to an agency that was building a website for another company. The agency usually had enough employees to do the work, but I soon found out that they’d been haemorrhaging people… especially with this client. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. They were a shouty, “I know everything” bunch. They were based in the USA, and they expected us to complete a full day’s work in the UK while they slept… and work the full US day, too. I’m not sure when they expected us to eat or sleep.

There were a few incidents, but one that stuck with me was with someone from the agency. While I was (on paper) more senior than this person, his being a permanent employee meant that he was the project design lead. I had no problem with that… except that he would often pass off my work as his own, claim I’d made mistakes or missed things when presenting my designs (because he hadn’t taken the time to understand what he was looking at), or talk down to or over me in front of clients. Not cool.

One day, I had an appointment that meant I wasn’t going to be available for the weekly check-in where we presented the latest designs. As such, I made sure that I’d shared everything with [Project Design Lead] more than twenty-four hours in advance, written out all I’d done in an email, asked him for time to explain the details, and asked him several times to check if he had everything he needed. It was always a condescending response: of course, he had it all under control. He didn’t need me to explain anything to him. (You might see where this is going.)

The time rolled around and I logged off, but my phone still got notifications for work things. My messenger started exploding: “Where am I?” “Where is the design?” “Which bits are new?” He apparently knew nothing about the work. He was freaking out because he needed to present this to the client in a few minutes.

Then… my personal phone number started ringing. My WhatsApp and messages started exploding. I had never given this guy my personal number nor shared it anywhere within the company.

When I got back from my appointment, I went straight to the hiring manager — the only person who had my personal contact information — and gave him an earful about handing out my details. Of course, [Project Design Lead] had told him all about how I’d left him in the lurch and that he’d had no other choice. You’d better believe I set him straight, and [Project Design Lead] seemed extremely meek the next time we spoke.

The moral of the story, I guess, is that even if you are a “lead”, always listen to the people who are trying to help you out instead of dismissing them. Oh, and don’t give out people’s personal information at work without their permission!

I’m a college student, and I have been working as a freelance designer to pay some bills.

A year ago, a company contacted me about designing a flyer and a billboard for them. The deadline was coming pretty quickly, and we agreed on a price that included a rush fee.

Two days into the project, I got run over by a car that broke both of my legs. I was sent to a hospital, where I had to get surgery. As soon as I got out of surgery and regained consciousness, I contacted the client and told him what had happened. I said that I was going to be unable to work on any projects. I’d been given pretty strong pain medications, and I wasn’t in any kind of shape to do anything, so I wasn’t going to meet the deadline that was set.

I offered to get him in contact with another designer and to give him all the files needed so they could finish the project in time. I also told him that I could refund half the rush fee he had paid me in advance.

His answer deserves to be framed.

Client: “What happened to you is terrible! I hope you get better soon, but since you only had to get surgery on your legs and you can still use your hands, I think you can keep working on the project. Cheers!”

The nurse also thought he was an a**hole.

My dad put me in touch with an old friend who’d just written a book, which needed some illustrations. Working with him was very casual so, because I was a naive college graduate, I didn’t make him sign a contract. The topic of copyrights didn’t come up at all until he brought me the first draft of the printed book. I was excited to see my name as the illustrator, but my name — and my copyright — was nowhere to be found.

Me: “I think you made a mistake here. It says you own the copyrights to my illustrations.”

Client: “Oh, no. I purchased the copyright when I paid you.”

Me: “No, you didn’t.”

Client: “Yes, I did. We talked about this.”

Me: “No, we didn’t. Ever.”

Client: “Oh. Well, it must have been because I was so sick recently. But they are mine, anyway.”

I argued with him for days that, as the artist, I maintained copyright privileges and that I just wanted the right to be able to display my work in my portfolio online, but he was paranoid about it. I think he thought that if people could see the pictures on my website, then no one would buy his book. Finally, we agreed that I would sign away the copyright on the condition that I could use the illustrations on social media to promote my work.

A week later, I get a threatening letter from a lawyer saying [Client] would sue me if he saw any of those illustrations on said social media. I didn’t have the money to try and see if I could call his bluff or if he really meant it, so I took everything down. I did over sixty drawings for that man, and my name and credit didn’t end up anywhere in the final printing.

Related:
CopyWrong, Part 2
CopyWrong