davidthedesigner

gee whiz

Apologies, but I've fallen behind with my fortnightly posts in my 52 font series. I guess I'd better hurry up with the Hs and aim to get back in line with the Is. But first of all the Gs: and a couple of real classics here. In fact, if you were allowed just two fonts to work with, you couldn't go very far wrong with these.

First up is:

A font that surely defines the expression 'what goes around comes around'. Because it often becomes the victim of lazy over-use, but give it a rest for a few years and up it pops again as a graphic designers' favourite. Designed by Eric Gill for the London & North Eastern Railway in 1927, it was heavily influenced by Edward Johnston’s Johnston typeface for London Underground, which Gill had worked on while apprenticed to Johnston. Although designed primarily as a display face, it's long been a favourite for text setting as well (and not much wrong with that). But there are a couple of little quirks to look out for when using this font:

First of all the figure 1, which is indistinguishable from a lower-case L: something to watch out out for if, for instance, you're designing an annual report (where you have a mix of text and figures). And second, the cap T at the start of a sentence; because the auto-kerning function in typesetting programs will close it right up to the preceding full point - so this may be an instance where you really do need that secretaries' favourite - a double word space between sentences.

Roll back the years by another decade (give or take), and 1916 gives you the year in which Goudy Old Style first appeared. Designed by that great American type designer, Frederick W. Goudy (although some of the subsequent heavier weights were designed by Morris Fuller Benton - and you'll remember that he's been mentioned before in this series).

So there you have it: all geed up for the last Thursday in February.

something to look forward to

We've reached that time of year where we get tantalising glimpses of spring being on its way. Although that's usually tempered by more wind and rain to suggest that winter's going to last a lot longer yet. So today I want to you to look forward to early May (the very best time of year: although that may be Taurean bias). And, if you want something that will really lift your spirits, take a Wednesday off work and make a little trip to Lechlade in Gloucestershire.

And not far from the town you will find the wonderful Kelmscott Manor, the country home of William Morris and Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

hand made in tufnell park

It's not often the postman delivers nice things these days, is it? That's one of the downsides of the digital age; all it leaves for the postman is credit card bills and junk mail about pizzas and double glazing.

But look at the lovely thing that's just landed on my doormat - courtesy of my old friends Bob and Horace. Their exceedingly beautiful 2008 perforated calendar.

All made by hand, by letterpress, and in Tufnell Park of all places.

And you can get hold of one for yourself, if you should so wish - just pop over to here.

about a motor car

I've told you about things magazine before. Maybe you took my advice and went over and had a good poke around; maybe you didn't. So, if you need a bit of encouragement, get over there now and have a look at the wonderful 'about a motor car' by the equally wonderfully-named Phyllis Ladyman.

this made me smile #37

(via atelier a+d)

58 ways to use a spreadsheet, but not quite as intended

A few years ago I used to design posters for a chamber choir, and the client (who was also a friend) would always be extremely punctilious in briefing me. So much so, that Anthony would go as far as providing me with a rough layout with the images and text to be used. Except his layouts were always done in Microsoft Excel - because Anthony was an accountant.

And I used to pull his leg about only accountants being able to design posters using a spreadsheet. Well, just to prove me wrong, along comes Daneille Aubert and her 58 DAYS WORTH OF DRAWING EXCERCISES IN MICROSOFT EXCEL AS RENDERED FOR WEB.

the one glove code

I've just had a couple of days away in the country.

As you can see, there wasn't an awful lot going on. But maybe it's the ever-present sound of rooks that gives this part of the world the vague impression that something sinister can happen at any moment. And the way the locals make you feel a complete stranger just by the way they look at you, suggests that tugging the forelock and interbreeding are still being practised hereabouts. And they communicate in code, as well. You see, I did a fair amount of walking, and at every gate or stile I came to, there would be just one glove hanging on a post or a bush.

See what I mean?

mellow yellow

If you've read yesterday's post, and the much earlier one that it refers to, you may be thinking that I've got a thing against signs. That's not the case at all - it's merely that I see too many signs around me that are put up without any proper thought given to whether they're needed or not. The 5mph sign, for instance, serves no functional purpose whatsoever: it would be physically impossible to drive any faster than that in the confined space of such a small car park. So all it does is make the immediate surroundings just that little bit uglier.

But I took a trip down to the coast this week and came across some signs which have an entirely different purpose: they're to warn passing shipping that there are undersea cables. And they have a beautiful simplicity about them.

This one warns of buried telephone cables. The words have long since faded to near invisibility, but I assume that both the colour and the diamond shape denote phone cables (are there any sailors reading this who would like to confirm?).

And this one, I think, probably denotes electricity cables. And the hoop on the top is there presumably to cater for any passing basketball teams.

gimme five

I didn't learn to drive until I was into my forties - and, do you know what? I love it. Absolutely love it. Put me in a car and I'll drive anywhere. (And in case you're thinking that's rather ungreen of me, I would ask you to offset 30+ years of non-driving against my carbon footprint.) And because I started learning late, I decided to carry on the process and went through the advance driving course - thus going from a non-driver to an advanced driver over an 18-month period.

Now, part of the advanced driving test (yes, it's much tougher - and longer - than the regular test) involves remembering all the road signs that you pass. So at some point during the 90-minute test the examiner will ask you what was the last road sign you passed. In my case, that question came a mile further on down the road (and, yes, I got it right - it was a 'low bridge ahead' warning). But I wonder how much longer that particular part of the test is going to remain viable. Because every time I make a journey these days there seems to be another crop of signs which have appeared overnight. So you can hardly go 10 yards, yet alone a mile, without some sort of sign telling you can or can't do this or that.

A while ago I commented upon those digital displays that seem to spend 95% of the time displaying the 'NO REPORTED INCIDENTS' message. But it's not just the big things that our councils like to throw money at. Oh no. Let me show you a little car park - carefully landscaped, with some lovely bushes and card-entry barriers. And it holds perhaps 30 cars - maybe 40 if, as sometimes happens, people disregard the bays. And it's reserved exclusively for council employees and visitors, and you can only gain access with a card issued by the council.

So why is is necessary for the council to put up this large metal sign to tell it's employees and visitors that they can't drive any faster than 5 miles per hour in this particular car park? If it really is necessary to do that, why don't they just send all 30-40 card holders an email? Or tell them on the card that's needed to gain access?

Oh yes, I forgot. It's public money, so cost and common sense don't come into this equation, do they?

art on the streets

Don't you find it's getting more and more difficult to tell what is art and what isn't these days? You know, some yellow lines turn into a sunflower in Tower Hamlets and nobody's at all sure whether it's a new Bansky masterpiece or just some mindless vandalism.

I came across this today:

And, for the life of me, I can't work out whether there are new cables going under the pavement next week, or whether we've got an urban Andy Goldsworthy on our doorstep.