In Defense of Weird: Why Awkward, Imperfect Spaces Feel Human

Kimberly Diaz-Smith
Sep 25
3 min read

Perfection has its place.

Weird makes us notice. Weird makes us remember. Weird is the universe slipping a little “Pssst, you’re alive” into your workday. Novelty grabs our brains like Velcro. Pause forces presence. Imperfection whispers, “Someone touched this.”

Let’s see how science backs that up, and how that understanding can transform design thinking.

Does This Finish Surprise The Eye Over Time?

Novelty is rocket fuel for memory. A study out of University College London showed that new stimuli trigger stronger dopamine release than familiar ones. Our brains are literally wired to seek surprise.

For the final finish, that can mean layering time into the surface

Does an object catch light differently morning to evening? Does it shift depending on your angle or distance? Does it invite comparison when placed next to a contrasting texture?

The trick is restraint: surprise works best when it unfolds slowly. A finish that reveals itself in layers keeps people coming back with fresh eyes.

Does it Trip Attention, Even Slightly?

Psychologists call it “processing fluency”: when something feels too smooth, our brains glide over it; when it’s just a little off, we pause. Research on “desirable difficulty” shows that slight cognitive friction actually deepens engagement.

Applied to finishes, this might mean breaking the expected rhythm.

A wall that interrupts its own grid, a floor pattern that doesn’t repeat on cue, or a scale shift that feels just a touch oversized.

Just enough wrongness to slow the walk down the hall.

Attention is scarce. Tiny stumbles in expectation are one of the simplest ways to earn it.

Does it Reveal the Maker’s Hand?

Harvard research on the “IKEA effect” shows that people value things more when they can see or feel human effort in them. Imperfection, like brush strokes, tool marks, seams, reads as proof of touch.

Final finishes are where this gets tactile. Not every tile perfectly identical.

Wood that shows knots instead of hiding them. Metal that carries the faint echo of being hammered or cast. The point isn’t rusticity; it’s connection.

A finish that wears its making is one that feels human, and people notice the difference.

Does it Allow for Change, Mess, or Evolution?

Environmental psychology is clear: dynamic, “alive” spaces are restorative. The Attention Restoration Theory (Kaplan & Kaplan, University of Michigan) points to fascination — soft, shifting stimuli — as key to giving our brains relief..

Finishes can embody this if they’re allowed to evolve. Materials that patina, oxidize, or scuff in beautiful ways. Surfaces that take on sun or moisture and change tone over time. Textures that collect traces of use without looking ruined.

Instead of fighting messiness, design for it. Choose finishes that tell the story of life lived in the space.

That story is what keeps a workplace or lobby from feeling like it froze in time.

Making Weird a Practice

Weird isn’t a gimmick. It’s a mode of design that foregrounds humanity over perfect polish. To cultivate it:

Train for interruption. Look for design moments where familiarity dulls attention—and let curiosity in.
Tolerate tension. When something unsettles you in a model or board, give it space to surprise.
Amplify traces of life. Aging, human touch, process wear. These aren’t problems to solve, but meaning to surface.
Welcome entropy. Nature doesn’t line things up. Invite irregular growth, texture, and pattern to soften edges.
Embrace relational design. Not odd for oddness’ sake. Odd because it resists erasure, invites connection.

What are some methods you put into practice to invite more “weird” into interiors?