Usability is one of, if not the most, important feature of good website design. The internet has now become the primary touchpoint for both businesses and people, and one cannot ignore how usability enhances the experience, the depth of connection, and ease of transactions. As website tools continue to become more accessible, and users continue to demand more from digital experiences, small businesses can no longer ignore their badly designed websites. For Salon Elan, it became evident that their website was doing more harm than good.
Usability testing is all about collecting real data from real people. In a typical usability test, participants will interact with an app, website or other product while attempting to complete assigned tasks. The goal of these tests is to identify any usability issues, and collect qualitative and quantitative data. Ultimately, this data will help a team determine user satisfaction with the product and what needs to be improved or refined.
In this blog post, let’s take a look at how this method can be used to improve a local salon’s websites.
Usually when someone hears the word “split,” it often has negative connotations. Splitting up with your partner, running from the scene of a crime, a banana split (if you really don’t like bananas) or having to do a LITERAL split. But if you’re a marketer or a designer, the word can take on a whole different meaning.
When solving a problem, it’s easy to get lost in the process. As more variables are introduced, it can be hard to keep everything straight and predict where you’ll end up. This is especially prevalent in UX or service design projects where astute organization and accurate documentation mean the difference between an innovative solution and absolute failure.
It’s 3 months after your company’s new product launches and there seems to be an ominous feeling permeating through the cubicle walls. Then it hits your inbox, an email emblazoned with a red exclamation point and the subject line “ATTN Product Team: Staff Meeting.” Clicking in, you see the somewhat passive-aggressive message from your director stating that the team is about to get slammed. The product launch has been a near failure and changes need to be made ASAP. It’s crunch time.
All I remember is seeing blood. My heart beat faster as I tried to figure out what was wrong. Did I cut myself? Were my insides disintegrating? Tears started to fill my eyes as I did the only thing I could think of: shoving toilet paper into my underwear in the hopes it would stop the bleeding. Fifteen minutes had passed since I excused myself from a large state-wide standardized test due to intense pain. My guts felt like they’d been flipped to the outside and ravaged by a pair of garden shears. Shaking like a leaf, I managed to pull myself together and schlep myself back into my seat to make it through the rest of the test and the remainder of the school day. It wasn’t until days later that I was told that I had my first period at nine years old.
When you go to the store, a bunch of flashy packaging and labels jump out from the shelves in unison. One box shows an enticing picture of the food inside. Another product has a big red “new” on it. A bottom shelf contains a package in an interesting shape. With all of this information blasting, how can you possibly pick an item to put in your cart and take home?