The first person to make me feel guilty about templates was me.
I have been a painter longer than I have been a template designer, and painters are supposed to sneer at anything with a grid. So when I started M31Factory, I heard the little voice too: you are selling shortcuts, Liza, that is not real design. Seven years and thousands of makers later, I have a confession, and it doubles as a manifesto.
The template was never the problem. Stopping too early was.
The myth of the generic template
Look at a row of websites made from the same starting point and you will see it — the sameness. But lean closer. The sameness is never in the template. It is in what people left: the default font they could not be bothered to swap, the stock photo everyone downloaded on Tuesday, the headline that says exactly what the template suggested and not one word more.
A template is scaffolding. It holds the walls up while you paint. Nobody walks into a finished house and gasps, my goodness, what beautiful scaffolding. They look at the colour you chose, the photograph of your actual hands making your actual thing, the sentence only you would write.
Where the un-template begins
Three moves and you are out of the generic zone, every time:
One — swap the type. The fastest personality transplant in design. A serif with a bit of swing instead of the safe default, and suddenly it is 40% more you.
Two — replace every placeholder with something only you own. Your photos. Your products. Your handwriting on the thank-you card. Placeholders are mannequins; dress them or send them home.
Three — break exactly one rule. Tilt one element. Bleed one photo off the page. Put the button somewhere outrageous. One deliberate act of rebellion per design is the difference between tidy and unforgettable.
I couldn't help but wonder: is the template really what makes us look the same — or is it the terror of finishing our own sentences? We are all so busy blending in that we forget blending in was never actually safer. It was just quieter.
That is the whole manifesto, really. Use the structure. Bring the soul. Stop one inch earlier than you think is polite and ask: would anyone else have dared this?
If nobody else would — congratulations, misfit. You are un-templated.
Start with the free Canva guide, or wander the shop and pick a starting point that already has good bones. Then make it unmistakably yours.
So tell me, honestly: have you ever abandoned your own idea because it looked too much like someone else's already?