Not every project begins with a sketch. Sometimes, it begins with someone stuck in traffic, dodging puddles with a stroller, or carrying emotional weight long before stepping through the door. We design for people—but we often forget to design for the emotions they carry with them. This article explores how emotional states shaped by daily environments influence how we experience architecture, branding, and collaboration.

Emotional Entry Points Are Everywhere

From potholes to parking frustrations — these everyday obstacles shape the emotional state of those about to enter a meeting, a gallery, or a space we've designed.

Before any words are spoken, the environment has already said plenty.

• Physical discomforts (cracked pavements, inaccessible paths)
• Sensory overload (noise, signage, poor lighting)
• Ambiguous or unwelcoming transitions (elevators, entry zones, waiting areas)

These are not small annoyances. They accumulate—shaping the mood, perception, and readiness of those arriving.

Designing Emotional Transitions

City infrastructure, signage, pavement quality, sound—all of these either reduce stress or add to it. But it's not just about urban planning; it's about emotional architecture.

Architectural and engineering decisions—like whether a path invites or repels, whether a space opens or encloses—communicate intent long before a conversation begins. A harsh corner, a narrow corridor, or poorly located signage can heighten anxiety or frustration.

Emotional design is not a luxury—it's a foundational language of space.

By designing emotional transitions—not just functional thresholds—we soften arrival, clarify movement, and offer people dignity in motion.

Emotional Readiness in Workplace and Public Spaces

Designers often focus on the boardroom, but overlook everything leading to it.

• The journey of caretakers, parents, commuters, and those carrying invisible loads
• Reception areas as emotional gateways, not admin desks
• A brand isn’t just seen—it’s felt upon arrival

The emotional state people arrive in influences everything that follows.

Architecture, interior design, and visual identity must work together to reduce cognitive and emotional friction.

Storytelling as Emotional Infrastructure

Spaces tell stories, whether we script them or not. Through material choices, lighting, layout, and symbols—or their absence—we cue emotions. Do we soothe or overwhelm? Include or exclude?

This theme was explored through four large-format posters shown at the 2024 DesignMT exhibition. Imagined from a child’s perspective, the posters challenged adult designers to consider how hostile or disorienting everyday infrastructure can feel—long before anyone arrives at their destination.

These weren’t decorative. They were narrative critiques.

In parallel, the article Visual Pollution explored what happens when emotion is ignored in visual communication: design becomes clutter. It loses empathy, clarity, and function. Both works call for storytelling not as decoration, but as infrastructural care.

Design doesn’t begin with materials. It begins with emotional awareness.

Designing for Meetings, Not Just Rooms

If we want collaboration, trust, and creativity, we must prepare people emotionally—not just spatially.

• Interior mood, layout, and clarity as storytelling tools
• Reception design and flow as early cues of company culture
• Meetings as narratives: beginning, middle, and end

Meet people where they are—not just physically, but emotionally.

Design doesn’t begin in the meeting room. It begins in the journey, in the overlooked cues, in the residue of everyday environments. Building better spaces starts with recognising the emotions already in the room—and designing to meet them there.