Web Design

How to Spot (and Escape) a Narcissistic Client When You’re Desperate and Broke
A cautionary tale from a freelance designer who lived through it…

Some clients are fine. Others are catastrophic. They don’t just misunderstand web design—they exist on another planet. I’ve worked with both. But it was the bad ones who taught me what boundaries are—painfully.

Never Again: Why I Don’t Work with Yellers
I’ve been yelled at enough times by clients that I’ve developed a complex around it. It’s simple now: if someone yells at me, I walk. I don’t care how “visionary” they think they are. That includes the late Julia Gerard, a.k.a. JGerard, the so-called “Phantom of Melrose,” who passed away on Christmas in 2024. Working with her was one of the strangest and most psychologically abusive client relationships I’ve ever had.

JGerard: Cold Shoulders, Hot Tempers, and Invisible Paperwork
From 2016–2017, I worked for Julia’s boutique fashion business—a cluttered storefront with the vibes of a mausoleum and the internal chaos of a fever dream. I cataloged thousands of pieces for an eCommerce platform that was ultimately abandoned. Instead, she ranted about inventing the “cold shoulder” (yes, the cut-out sleeve) and made me publish her tirade online in Helvetica—exactly as it appeared in her iPhone’s Notes app—or else.

Each afternoon, we’d gather around a filthy, rusted-out table surrounded by patched-up office chairs scavenged from the garbage. There were tailors, stylists, janitors—all paid under-the-table or treated as “contractors” with no benefits. And there was Julia, arriving in an Uber Black, banging on her own door (she didn’t do doorknobs), and launching into unpredictable screaming fits.

She’d accuse people of stealing things that never existed. She’d berate you if you didn’t “feel” her font choices deeply enough. I was paid $15/hour to absorb this madness and pretend it was normal.

The Breaking Point: The Case of the Missing Specs
The final straw came over a pile of paper: size charts I’d already digitized and returned. Julia, convinced I had lost crucial “specs,” accused me of throwing her seamstress under the bus. The logic didn’t matter—rage made it real for her. Her fantasies became fact, and any resistance was seen as betrayal.

I gave my notice. She responded with a narcissistic monologue: I didn’t communicate well enough. I didn’t use full sentences. She was actually patient with me, she claimed. I should be apologizing.

Lessons from the Ghosts of Clients Past
Before Julia, there was Patrick Graham—the “sociopath” from a film trade publication who strung me along for months without pay. And before him, Thea Farhadian, a chaotic art instructor I TA’d for, whose sidekick called me a “loose cannon” for challenging her lunacy.

I tried to be agreeable. I tried to match their realities. But you can’t win when the rules are delusional and the goalposts move every five minutes.

Conclusion: If They Don’t Pay or Respect You, Leave
You have to recognize a bad client to walk away from one. I didn’t. I wanted to help. I thought I could endure. But enduring narcissism isn’t noble—it’s damaging.

Don’t waste your energy trying to survive someone else’s fantasy. Don’t sit at a rusted table, covered in metaphorical and literal dirt, wondering when the next tirade will begin. If you need permission to leave a toxic client, this is it.

Record the tirade. Write the post. And get out.