There’s this moment. You’re staring at your screen and you go to click – wait, where is it? That one article. The one with the squirrel image and something about productivity or maybe it was about, uh, pricing tables? Doesn’t matter now. It’s somewhere between your Amazon cart, three different “How to make roasted potatoes better” blogs, and 19 documentation tabs that all look the exact same.
If you’re one of those people – and you know who you are – then you’re not just using the internet. You’re collecting it. Like a raccoon with browser windows.
And if you’re designing for the web? Well. Buckle in. Because your fancy header, your minimalist spacing, your oh-so-lovingly kerned nav menu – it just disappeared into favicon soup.
They Don’t Close Tabs. They Just Abandon Them Like Unfinished Novels.
We like to think of users as focused, don’t we? Like, oh yeah, she’s coming to my homepage and she’s gonna scroll like a champ and maybe she’ll even admire that cheeky hover effect I stole from some hipster design studio in Sweden. But let me tell you something: Susan’s got 72 tabs open, her cat just knocked over her cereal, and she thinks your logo might be her other dentist’s booking site.
The user-focused approach in digital marketing refers to creating and strategizing marketing campaigns, content, and user experiences that prioritize the needs, wants, and preferences of the target audience. This approach ensures that the marketing efforts resonate with the users, leading to higher engagement and conversion rates. It involves understanding user behavior, preferences, pain points, and tailoring solutions to meet their specific requirements.
Designers forget this. Or maybe we choose to forget. It’s hard admitting that the person using our app doesn’t actually care about it. Not even a little bit. We’re just another flavor in their visual buffet. Some of them even forget they clicked your link. Sad. Humbling. A little bit funny, though.
Also, true story: I once left a tab open for three weeks. Every time I saw it, I thought “I’ll get to it later.” Never did. Still don’t know what that site sold. Could’ve been spices. Could’ve been cryptocurrency.
Make the Tab Tell Them Something.
Alright, so here’s a thought. What if… hear me out… the tab itself did more talking?
Like, instead of “Home – Glass Window Solutions Inc.” you put “📦 Still Looking for Storage Boxes?” Or something halfway clever. Or desperate. Whatever works. Desperation is underrated.
And favicons? Look, I know you love your sleek black G with a little red dot. But when 43 tabs are open, it’s just another dot in the void. Use color. Shape. Panic. Anything. I once saw a site use a tiny blinking exclamation mark. Annoying? Yes. Memorable? Also yes.
A favicon is often one of the first logos a visitor will see when accessing a website, specifically while the site is still in the process of loading. If your favicon is colorful or uses a unique image to convey a message, your visitors are much more likely to remember your website and the brand it represents. Without a favicon, your website may be forgettable.
https://mailchimp.com/resources/favicon-guide
Favicons are like dogs barking at a crowd. Most are muffled, but the yappy one gets noticed.
All Tabs Look the Same After Midnight
There’s a weird thing that happens at night. Around 1:42 AM. All tabs become equal. You forget which was the important one. Your eyes glaze. You scroll aimlessly. There’s four Stack Overflow pages open and none of them have the answer but you keep them because… maybe one of them will?
If your site relies on being read in the first 60 seconds? Good luck. You’ve got competition from Reddit rabbit holes, that NYT recipe paywall, and the cursed power of just one more YouTube tutorial on CSS grid.
You gotta be stupidly clear. Not smart-clever, but knock-on-the-head obvious. Big fat buttons. Loud titles. No ten-second intros. The user’s brain is running on caffeine and regret. Help them. Or don’t. But don’t act surprised when your bounce rate looks like a ski slope.
Tab Hoarders Don’t Bookmark. They Commit
Here’s a thing I learned after years of user testing (and by “user testing” I mean stalking friends’ browser habits): tab hoarders don’t save stuff. They won’t click your little “add to favorites” button. They just keep it open until their laptop fan screams for mercy.
A bookmark is a place holder for a web page that will allow you quick access to that page instead of having to browse to it or search for it. Instead of typing a web page in Google, clicking the bookmark will direct you to that page immediately.
https://finance.gov.mp/support/document-library/documents/how-to-bookmark-a-webpage.pdf
One dude I met at a meetup had three windows with over 100 tabs each. “It’s my filing system,” he said, sipping warm IPA. “If I close them, I’ll forget they existed.”
You can’t fight that logic. You can, though, help them not forget you. Sticky headers. Persistent CTAs. Leave breadcrumbs like you’re Hansel, and assume they’ll get lost in their own maze. Maybe they come back. Maybe they don’t. But don’t make them start from scratch if they do.
It’s Not That They’re Distracted. It’s Just… Everything’s Equally Important for Five Seconds.
People say tab hoarders have attention issues. I think that’s lazy. What if it’s just an inflated sense of potential? Like, every tab could be life-changing. That coupon code site? Might save $30. That tutorial on grounding wires? Might fix the entire garage. Your website about coworking spaces in Waldorf, Maryland? Could be the place they restart their entire freelance career.
They don’t want to lose the possibility. So they keep tabs. Tabs as hope. Tabs as a soft promise that “I’ll read this later when I’m ready.”
If that doesn’t melt your designer heart, I dunno what will.
Make It Work When They Forget Why They Clicked You
So okay, real talk. They don’t remember you. Not really. Your tab’s been open for four days. Their roommate clicked it. They opened a Reddit thread mid-way. You’re a stranger now.
Which means, your landing needs to reintroduce yourself. Like you’re meeting again after a blurry party. No weird intros. Just clarity. Maybe warmth. Definitely less jargon. And for the love of corgis, don’t do one of those carousels that moves faster than their finger can point.
A landing page is a standalone web page created specifically for a marketing campaign. It’s where visitors “land” after clicking on a link in an email, a paid social ad, or a paid search ad. Unlike web pages, which typically have many goals and encourage exploration, landing pages are designed with a single focus or goal, known as a call to action (or CTA, for short).
https://unbounce.com/landing-page-articles/what-is-a-landing-page
Also, side note: if your font size is 12pt and gray on white, you’re dead to them. That’s not elegance, that’s eye-hostility.
Testing for Tab Chaos: Try This (Painful) Trick
Open your site. Then open 52 more. Stuff like news, memes, Slack, Google Docs, two Notion tabs even though no one knows what’s in them, and a Shopify store selling medieval goat harnesses. Now shrink your window. Let 17 tabs overlap. Try finding your own site.
Hurts, right?
That’s what your users feel. Every. Day.
If you still think minimalism is the answer, go stare at a white wall and call it “design.” The rest of us need to make something that fights its way through tab hell and still manages to say: Hey. Remember me? I’m that thing you cared about five minutes ago. Or maybe yesterday.
Last Thing Before We Forget (Just Like the Users Will)
Designing for tab hoarders means admitting the internet’s not a gentle stroll. It’s a chaotic, jittery, caffeine-splattered sprint. Your site isn’t the destination. It’s a tab. Among tabs. Like a voice shouting at a stadium full of equally loud voices.
And that’s okay. You don’t have to win forever. You just gotta stick long enough to be remembered when the purge comes. Because yeah, one day they’ll close 30 tabs at once. And if you’re lucky – or smart, or loud, or weird enough – they’ll pause. Click. “Oh wait, I still need this one.”
That’s your win. Right there. In the hoard. Hidden. Still open. Still alive.
Last modified: July 22, 2025
