We’ve seen both sides of the spectrum: the beautifully organized Figma file with well-documented components, and the “everything’s in here somewhere” version with inconsistent font weights, spacing, and zero annotations. One of those is much easier to work with, and one often leads to a lot of back-and-forth right before launch.

Let’s be clear: we love working with great designers. The ones who give us a style guide. The ones who tell us what every button looks like (default and hover). The ones who show us how link styles should appear (though we’ll always remind you: underline them for accessibility—here’s why). That level of clarity lets us build faster and more accurately, which is good for your timeline, your budget, and your sanity.

But more often than not, we get a Figma file and… not much else. No spacing rules, no consistent heading structure, and no clear guidance on what’s intentional and what isn’t. Sometimes things look inconsistent because they’re meant to be. Sometimes they’re just inconsistent.

Here’s the problem: if we build it exactly as it appears in the design file and something looks “off,” the instinct is to assume development made a mistake. But without a design system, we’re guessing—are those 56px and 72px top margins a creative choice, or just a copy-paste artifact?

This isn’t a blame game. This is a call for better tools, better process, and better collaboration.

A design file is a snapshot. It’s a set of screens with layouts and assets that represent how a product should look in certain states. But it often lacks the context that helps translate design into code.

A design system, on the other hand, is a source of truth. It includes the components, states, spacing, styles, and usage rules that inform how everything should behave across the product. It’s not about over-documenting—it’s about setting shared expectations.

Even a simple token sheet that includes:

…can dramatically improve the handoff process and reduce development time.

Atomic design principles (organisms, molecules, atoms) aren’t mandatory, but they’re helpful for framing how UI components relate to each other. If your design system is structured this way, it’s easier for developers to map out reusable components and build a scalable codebase. If not, that’s okay too—but consider organizing your components logically and consistently, so they’re not hidden in a “Misc” folder 18 artboards deep.

That last one is important. If you don’t give us a consistent set of rules, we’ll make our best guess. But that guess might not align with your vision. And it definitely won’t be consistent with your next project.

We’re not expecting full-blown design systems for every site—especially for smaller projects. But even a lightweight guide that outlines key decisions helps us build exactly what you envisioned. Better yet, loop us in early and we’ll help flag anything that might need clarification before it becomes a QA issue.

This doesn’t just make life easier for devs. It improves design consistency, reduces bugs, shortens review cycles, and keeps clients happy.

We’ll always build what you give us. But if you want it to look exactly like what you designed, don’t just send us files—send us the system.