shipping a figma plugin to 30,000 designers
Nov 8, 2025 · 2 min read · making
Every designer has one task they secretly hate. Mine was drawing wavy lines. Section dividers, decorative squiggles, that one client who wanted everything to feel "organic". The vector pen and I were not friends, and every wave I drew by hand looked like a heartbeat monitor having a bad day.
So I built Wavy Lines, a small Figma plugin that generates them. Pick amplitude, frequency, and smoothness, get a clean editable vector. It now has more than 30,000 users, which is a strange sentence to type about a tool born from laziness.
Scratch a real itch, not a plausible one
I did not do market research. I had drawn my hundredth bad wave and got annoyed enough to fix it. That turned out to be the entire strategy. A plausible itch produces a tool people agree is nice. A real itch produces a tool people open twice a week. You can feel the difference in the reviews: nobody writes "great concept", they write "thank you, this saved my morning".
The interface is the product
The first version had eleven controls. Watching a friend use it was humbling: she wanted a wave, not a synthesizer. The shipped version has three sliders and a button. Every control I removed made the plugin better at its one job. It was the most direct lesson in minimalism I have had: complexity is something you inflict on users one option at a time.
Distribution favors the specific
"Wavy Lines" is a terrible brand name and a perfect search query. People do not search Figma Community for elegant abstractions, they type the thing they need. The plugin gets found because its name is the itch. If I had called it Fluidify or WaveKit Pro, it would be resting quietly at zero installs.
Free is a feature
I never charged for it. As a business decision, questionable. As a design decision, it removed every barrier between "I need a wave" and "I have a wave", which is what a utility should feel like. The return came sideways: the plugin became the strongest line in my portfolio, proof that I can find a problem, ship a fix, and support it. Every job conversation since has included five minutes about it.
The meta lesson: small, finished, and useful beats big, ambitious, and almost. Ship the little tool. You cannot predict which small thing decides to become the thing people know you for.