Becoming a Designer - A career journey rooted in depth & practice.

Jan 17
5 min read

In a world that rewards fast growth, titles, and visible wins, this article offers a quieter career philosophy: choose depth over decoration. Through his journey from content design to product design and eventually co-founding a creative studio, the author reflects on how design thinking shaped not just his work—but his decisions, confidence, and ability to navigate uncertainty. The central lesson is simple: depth may look slow externally, but it compounds internally into clarity, capability, and long-term freedom.

Looking back, I realise I didn’t just learn design. I began to think like a designer, and unknowingly applied the same principles to my career. Design thinking taught me one thing early: before jumping to solutions, you sit with the problem. So, choosing depth over titles and pay cheques was not a mere career strategy but my north star philosophy that has guided me throughout my career.

Early in my career, I too believed growth only meant big titles, awards and a big pay cheque. I assumed that if I kept stacking visible progress, I could make a place for myself as a designer. Little did I know that I had so much to learn and unlearn before I could call myself a designer, let alone accomplishing the kind of work I dreamt of doing.

Choosing depth over decoration

After completing my BA, I joined Jumbotail, a leading B2B e-commerce company as a Content Designer. I could write well, generate ideas, and design visually appealing creatives and I was quite dependable when it came to execution. I thought I was great at what I did until I started feeling a certain gap.

I could deliver, but I didn’t fully understand the systems behind what I was producing. I knew how to use tools, along with tips & tricks I picked up on YouTube, but I wasn’t thinking like a designer. The gap became clearer when I started spending time with designers from formal design backgrounds, especially those from design schools. Our conversations were fundamentally different. While I spoke about deliverables, they spoke about intent and context. While I focused on aesthetics, they focussed on structure, systems and thinking.

With the determination to transform, I began to learn design from a problem-solving perspective. To ensure I was competent, and had clarity of my actions, I chose depth over decoration.

I studied the foundations of design, design thinking and reading through the various design philosophies that existed in history. I understood that design wasn’t just a profession but a way of living in itself. I sat with UI/UX designers to understand their approach, and learned from product managers how prioritisation and trade-offs actually worked in alignment with business needs. I was drawn into understanding how everything fit together and this learning didn’t translate into immediate rewards.

On the outside, my career probably looked slower than it needed to be. But internally, I was going through a transformation that I valued more than anything else.

Understanding that learning compounds over time

One of the most valuable lessons I learnt during my Jumbotail days, was something the CEO, Karthik Venkateswaran often uttered during meetings, and I loosely quote, “To solve any problem, you must begin by asking the right questions.”

The statement stirred up more questions in my head.

How does one evaluate whether a question is right or not?

How much time and effort does one invest in analyzing the questions before taking any action?

Are the right questions innately the less obvious ones?

…and many more.

A few years later, when I took the leap to join an early-stage food-tech startup to lead Product design for them, I put myself in a position of absolute discomfort. While I could have moved into a senior role, or picked companies with better pay I chose uncertainty instead.

Joining an early-stage startup was my first real prototype. I was going to put years of learning into practice. There was no safety net. Decisions had consequences. Ideas had to be pitched against resistance and when strategy met reality, I had to be accountable.

I still don’t know if it was the “right” move in conventional terms. But it was an honest one.

There were no inherited systems. We had to define flows, prioritise features, balance speed with strategy, and constantly question our assumptions.

What problem are we actually solving? What breaks when this scales? What happens if we optimise for speed over clarity?

Karthik’s lesson about asking the right questions had grown on me by then to be able to design under such constraints. It made one thing clear. Anything we learn, compounds over time into something more valuable and deep.

Reaping what I valued the most in life

Over time, choosing depth over decoration gave me three things.

First, freedom from the chase. Detaching myself from the constant pursuit of titles and perceptions allowed me to move deliberately, explore unfamiliar directions, and make decisions without external noise.

Second, internal evolution. Not the visible kind measured by roles or labels, but how I thought, prioritised, and held ambiguity. It made me more self-sufficient and more grounded.

Third, self-confidence. Not the one that comes from certainty, but from knowing I could surf through uncertainty because I had done the work to handle any situation.

With these growing powers in place, I believe that co-founding a creative studio was not a choice but an inevitable occurrence. At Rator Studios, the very philosophy that made me who I am, shows up before any visual direction is explored. We always begin every project by trying to ask the right questions, for example:

What should this brand be remembered for? What should it never do? What decisions should this design enable?

These aren’t philosophical questions, they’re design questions. And they trace back to the years I spent learning, practicing and evolving.

End Note

I strongly believe that there is no one shoe that fits all and my journey may be of interest only to those who share similar values as I hold. So, to those who find the resonance, here’s what I would like to leave you with:

Early in your career, depth can feel like a detour. But if you manage to hold on and trust the process, over time, it becomes the thing that steadies you, makes you confident and adaptable to change. Which I think are crucial to live a curious, playful life.

Key Takeaways

Depth is a career strategy, not a delay: Sitting with problems, building foundations, and learning context creates long-term capability.
Titles and aesthetics are not the same as design thinking: True design work is rooted in intent, systems, and structured problem-solving.
Learning compounds through practice, not speed: Skills become valuable when tested under real constraints, discomfort, and accountability.
Asking the right questions is a superpower: Strong decisions begin with better questions—especially when scaling, prioritising, or trading off speed vs clarity.
Choosing uncertainty can accelerate growth internally: Early-stage environments force sharper thinking, ownership, and resilience.
Depth creates freedom, evolution, and confidence: The payoff is not just better work, but steadier identity and stronger decision-making.

Curator's Note

Early careers often reward speed—titles, pay, and visible progress. In this honest and thoughtful piece, Goutham shares why choosing depth over decoration became his real growth strategy, shaping not just his design work but his decision-making and confidence. A powerful reminder that foundations are built quietly, through questions, practice, and long-term thinking.