I'll have mine in a straight glass.
The other night at the pub, something unexpected caught my attention. Not the conversation, not the music, but the glass in my hand.
I was halfway through my first pint when the barman mentioned something I'd never heard of before: a hidden feature at the base of some beer glasses. I looked at the one I was holding and saw nothing but plain, smooth glass, nothing out of the ordinary.
But my next pint came in a different glass. This one had a few subtle grooves etched into the base, barely noticeable unless you looked for them. What happened next caught my attention because the beer stayed lively from start to finish, with a steady stream of bubbles rising up, keeping the head fresh while the froth didn't collapse as quickly as usual.
It wasn't a trick of the pour but something in the glass itself.
Those tiny grooves weren't decorative but were nucleation sites (I had to google it), intentional imperfections that trigger CO₂ release, helping the beer maintain its carbonation and keeping each pint looking and tasting fresher for longer.
It's a simple, hidden piece of design doing something clever, something you wouldn't notice unless you paid attention, but once you do, it changes how you see things.
This made me think about how much good design is invisible, because the best solutions often work so seamlessly that we don't even realise they're there. Like the slight curve in a door handle that guides your grip, or the way street signs are positioned at just the right height and angle for drivers approaching at speed, or how your smartphone's buttons and notification bubbles have rounded corners, not just for looks but because our eyes naturally follow curves more easily than sharp angles, reducing cognitive load.
But here's what really gets me: it's not just about function but about feeling.
That pint glass doesn't just keep beer carbonated, it makes the whole experience better. You're not thinking about nucleation sites while you drink, you're just enjoying a beer that tastes right, looks right, feels right in your hand. The design disappears, but the good feeling stays.
This is what I'm always chasing in creative work, not the quick dopamine hit of something flashy, but that deeper response, the kind that moves from your immediate reaction into something that sticks, a positive vibe you can't quite put your finger on, but you know it when you feel it.
Would you want to hold this? Would you want a photo in front of it? Does it make your life a little easier, a little better? These aren't just design questions, they're human questions.
We're surrounded by thousands of these micro-decisions, each one the result of someone thinking deeply about how to make us feel something. The designer who realised that beer needs those tiny grooves wasn't just solving a technical problem, they were crafting an experience.
The Airport Walking Time Trick
Here's another favourite example: airport signage.
In the early 2010s, airports around the world were flooded with complaints about travellers being frustrated by the long walks to their gates. Many airports considered expensive solutions like adding more moving walkways or redesigning entire terminals.
But a few took a smarter, far cheaper approach by simply adding walking times to their signs.
"Gate 22 - 7 mins walk"
That small tweak made a big psychological difference because it reduced uncertainty, since people hate not knowing how long something will take. A clear time estimate eliminates that stress and boosts confidence, helping travellers adjust their expectations and feel more in control. Even if the walk is long, it feels shorter because it's predictable, and some airports even intentionally overestimate walking times slightly, just to offer that sense of "I made good time."
It's another example of design that doesn't add stuff but adds clarity, and that clarity shapes how we feel. The kind of design that makes you think "I want to be here" or "this just works" without you being able to explain exactly why.
The Design Worth Creating
How many other invisible design choices are quietly improving our lives right now?
The next time you're handed a pint, take a look at the base because you might notice the grooves, you might notice the froth staying just that bit longer, and if you're anything like me, you'll start wondering what other everyday details you've been missing.
Because once you start seeing the hidden design around you, and more importantly, feeling it, it's hard to stop. The question isn't just "what other details am I missing?" but "what else is quietly making me feel good without me realising it?"
That's the design worth noticing and that's the design worth creating.