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When human-centred design met landscaping

  • Writer: UXcentric
    UXcentric
  • Jan 9
  • 7 min read

Updated: Jan 13

How I applied human-centred design beyond digital to create luxury garden experiences


Darren Wilson


Dog lounging on a cushion in a sunny patio. Green garden, potted plants, and a barbecue grill in the background against a clear sky.


If you’d told me over twenty years ago that I’d be applying the same UX design process to luxury garden design, I’d have laughed.


Back then, my world was software, systems, and screens, mostly sitting on my backside for a living. My brother Paul’s world was paving, driveways, and proper hard graft.

And yet, somehow, those two worlds have collided.


This isn’t a story about switching careers or discovering a late love of landscaping. It’s about what happens when human-centred design is applied beyond the digital world, with one constant at its heart: people.



Two worlds, one idea


In 2015, I became a co-director, with my brother Paul, in his paving and landscaping business. 


By then, he’d built a strong local reputation through years of high-quality work and word of mouth. It was the kind of setup where the phone kept ringing because people trusted you.


My own career had taken a very different path. I’d spent around ten years working away from Teesside, designing digital products, systems, and services for large organisations.


Most of my work happened on screens, in workshops, and in conversations about users, journeys, and experiences.


When we first discussed working together, it was intended to be straightforward. I’d help bring some structure (admin, a website, maybe a bit of process) and take some of the pressure off Paul so he could focus on building.


What I hadn’t anticipated was that the way I approached design and problem-solving would start to shape far more than just the admin.


Between us, we were combining very different perspectives: digital design thinking, practical construction expertise, and years of experience working directly with customers. That mix turned out to be far more powerful than either of us expected.


I  thoroughly enjoy working with my brother in a completely different domain and working with people to transform their gardens. 


It’s hugely rewarding on both counts, and it’s fantastic to develop my skills, use my UX expertise and help him along the way too.


Me on the left, and Paul is on the right in a photo outside of work.

My brother, Paul, and I



How things worked before


Before the pandemic, the customer experience was simple and increasingly stretched.

A potential customer would call Paul, often reaching voicemail because he was on-site.


Enquiries came in thick and fast; his work was, and still is, excellent. But time was always tight, and some calls inevitably slipped through the cracks.


If a visit was arranged, Paul would measure up, have a short conversation, and head off to price the job. Occasionally, there might be a quick 2D sketch to explain where things would go, but more often than not, it was left to imagination.


And that was it.


It was a fast, informal process that jumped from a loose understanding of requirements straight into implementation. If budgets didn’t quite line up, there might be some iteration, but largely it was quote, accept and build.


At the time, the business was doing OK. I knew it could be better, but there was always something more urgent to deal with.


And then everything changed.



The moment we had to rethink everything


March 23rd, 2020. Six days before Paul’s 40th birthday. Lockdown.


While my own work life carried on relatively unchanged, and if anything, actually busier than ever, Paul’s work stopped overnight. 


Aside from the one-hour daily walk, my time was filled with video calls, wireframing and design reviews on projects in the UK and abroad. Meanwhile, he wasn’t allowed to visit customers anymore. He couldn’t work. His birthday celebrations were cancelled, and so was his income.


Even when restrictions began to ease, it quickly became clear that the old way of working wasn’t viable.


Turning up at people’s homes, sketching ideas on scraps of paper, and handing over flat quotes for emotionally significant, high-value projects suddenly felt inadequate.


This wasn’t something we could patch or tweak.


We needed a completely different approach.



Applying human-centred design to gardens


Together, we rebuilt the customer journey from the ground up, using the same human-centred design approach I’d relied on for years in digital projects.


Not as a rigid framework, but as a way of thinking.



User Research: Understanding people before designing solutions


The first shift was in how we gathered information.


Phone calls were unreliable and time-consuming, so we introduced an enquiry form. Simple, but powerful. It allowed people to get in touch at any time, and it gave us the chance to ask better questions upfront.


More importantly, the questions themselves changed.


Previously, we focused purely on what people wanted - a patio, new turf, fencing, etc. 


We started asking why.


How did they want to use the space? Who was it for? What did a good day in the garden actually look like for them? How should it fit their lifestyle? 


The conversation moved away from materials and measurements and towards experiences and emotions.


Customer enquiry form for Wilson Paving & Landscaping. Includes fields for name, address, email, phone, and a source selection question. Scroll down for more.
Extract from the customer enquiry form



Following this, we introduced a free consultation, treating it less like a site visit and more like a semi-structured interview.


We weren’t just designing for people in isolation, but for how they live day to day, across seasons, changing needs, and the realities of using and maintaining an outdoor space over time.


We also deliberately structured the process so people could build confidence gradually, rather than being asked to commit everything up front.


We talked about lifestyle, mobility, maintenance, budgets, long-term plans, and whether people arrived with a clear vision or needed creative support.


In the consultation, we ask people to put together a moodboard, which gives us an idea of the look and feel they want to create, which is another useful piece of information as we look to create their vision of the new space.


Collage of serene Japanese gardens featuring stone paths, lush greenery, water features, and Zen elements in tranquil settings.
Example of a customer moodboard for a Japanese-style garden

With all these changes, for the first time, we had something we’d never really had before: clarity.




Design and Prototype: Concepting ideas before building


Previously, design had been minimal, a means to an end. Then, it became central.


We still used paper for quick ideas and planting plans, just as we would with wireframes in UX. But I also started learning SketchUp, a 3D modelling tool widely used in architecture and landscape design.


Colorful garden plan with varied plants, a winding path, Buddha statue, and bamboo fence. Labeled zones, vibrant foliage, and calm vibe.
Paper sketch for a garden design - Credit Jane Braithwaite, our planting specialist

With proper requirements and a shared understanding of intent, I could create realistic models of proposed designs, not just to show what materials went where, but to explore how the space would feel.


We expect the design to change. Early versions aren’t about getting things right, but about learning quickly and safely before everything becomes fixed.


In digital work, we prototype to reduce risk. In gardens, the stakes are often higher (financially and emotionally), so the principle matters even more: people need to see and experience the space before anything is built.


These models acted as prototypes. We could test ideas, explore alternatives, and identify issues early, without risk.


It also meant our build team had accurate measurements, reducing waste, rework, and uncertainty.


A model of a landscaped Japanese inspired garden with a hot tub, wooden deck, curved archways, patio furniture under a green umbrella, and plants against a brick wall.
Model of a Japanese-inspired garden with a hot tub and entertainment space



User Testing and Iteration: Shared ownership and reassurance


One of the biggest changes was how we involved customers in the design process.

Instead of sending a quote and hoping it aligned with expectations, we invited people to

Zoom calls to walk through the model together. They could see the design from every angle, understand the thinking behind it, and suggest changes in real time.


“Move this wall.” “Change that material.” “What if we did this instead?”


That conversation is incredibly powerful. It allows ideas to be tested and refined collaboratively, long before anything is built.


What people are really buying at that point isn’t paving or planting, it’s confidence. Confidence that they understand the design, that it fits their life, and that they won’t regret the decision later.


When the process is successful, customers feel heard, involved, and confident. They’re no longer buying a line item on a simple quote. Rather, they’re investing in a vision they have helped to shape.


“The design process was excellent – the team understood what we were looking at and were able to add their own thoughts to enhance our ideas. The fact that we then received a comprehensive design package made it much easier for us to see what was needed and was key to us making our final decisions.”

Jill and Tom



3D Mediterranean-inspired design with a red umbrella shading a table, rattan furniture, green lawn, and brick house. Stylish, inviting outdoor space.
Model of a Mediterranean-inspired garden with outdoor kitchen and seating


The impact


This shift has been massive.


Looking back, the biggest change wasn’t just the quality of the finished gardens. It has been the experience people have had getting there.


For customers, it removes a huge amount of uncertainty from what is often a major financial and emotional decision. They can see, question, and shape the design long before anything is built, which builds confidence and trust from the outset.


For us, it leads to clearer briefs, smoother builds, and far stronger relationships. Fewer assumptions, fewer surprises, and better conversations throughout the process.


As a result, we now work on larger and more complex projects with clients who value the process as much as the final result, because the experience is so valuable. 


The work feels more collaborative, more considered, and ultimately far more rewarding for everyone involved.



Final thoughts


I never imagined that the way of thinking I learned designing in-vehicle infotainment systems would one day be shaping luxury gardens. But the truth is, human-centred design was never really about screens or software.


It’s about people.


Whether you’re designing a digital interface or an outdoor space, the fundamentals are the same. Listen carefully. Build empathy. Explore ideas safely. Test early, and iterate often.


Designing luxury gardens has quietly reinforced that belief in a way I hadn't expected. It’s also encouraged me to think about my own work, not as designing products or services, but as helping people make confident decisions in unfamiliar territory.


What this experience reinforced for me is that human-centred design isn’t tied to screens, software, or any single industry. It’s a set of principles for designing anything where people are involved in making meaningful decisions.




Get in touch with the author


If you’re working on a challenge, digital or otherwise, where the complexity is human rather than technical, I’d be more than happy to talk. Get in touch, and I look forward to hearing from you.



​Darren Wilson

Managing Director at UXcentric

07854 781 908

 


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