Christine's Design Blog

The first book I’ve completed in 2010 is Debbie Millman‘s Look Both Ways, which Nina kindly grabbed for me at the Type Directors Club. I’d been eyeing it since it was published a couple months ago, and I was so ecstatic when she gave it to me last week during Typography class.

The book is subtitled ‘Illustrated essays on the intersection of life and design,’ yet I found the experience of reading it much more profoundly grounded in the ‘life’ part, much to my liking. Aside from the beautiful ways in which she designed and handlettered each essay, which instantly dropped me into Debbie’s world, or the constant connections she made with branding and art, I felt most moved by the stories of her life.

Part of it is that I’m always interested in the back story of any person, place or thing that I admire. You know — the Wikipedia syndrome, which is the curiosity that cannot be overcome, so your fingers automatically gravitate toward the keyboard before your eyes can even turn toward the screen.

Another part of why the book spoke deeply to me is that she writes in such a way that makes me feel like we’re very similar. Whether we actually are similar or not, the tales of girlhood, youth, uncertainty, and continuing thoughts and observation beyond those early qualities (which, I suspect, never really disappear completely no matter what your age) made each story feel so familiar, like reading my own forgotten journal. I think any thoughtful person who sees and thinks actively will have similar anecdotes and related ideas of what it is we’re going through in this world. Maybe I’m tired of hearing stories of success and listening to people who make it all seem easy — even if they claim that it’s not easy (and I’m sure it wasn’t), they make it seem easy by the mere act of speaking to us about it in large speaker-audience settings. Which is perhaps why the book lends itself better to telling such stories. Debbie’s carefully crafted essays and crafty illustrations immerse the reader into a world of memory and thoughts, outside of the conscious notion that this is coming from Debbie Millman, celebrated host of the Design Matters series, President of the design division at Sterling Brands, and AIGA President.

Many of the stories had me laughing out loud, but because they read a lot like my own feelings from the past, they also had me close to tears. While reading the chapter ‘Pick One,’ I was sitting at a Pret on 49th and Madison, and when I read that she had hopped off a bus on 42nd and Madison on her way to a Condé Nast interview right out of college, I downed the rest of my coffee and hurried down the avenue to get a sense of what that moment had been like.

Some of the stories, mainly the ones that address a stage in life I have not yet reached, had me wondering what other sorts of similar thoughts and experiences I’ll have in the future, and whether glimpsing hers have prepared me in any way for them.

But the biggest surprise was in ‘Fail Safe,’ in which she writes:

I am not profoundly unhappy with what has transpired in the years leading up to today; most days I consider myself lucky that I have a fun, secure job and a good paycheck. But I know deep in my heart that I settled. I chose financial and creative stability over artistic freedom, and I can’t help but wonder what life would be like if I had made a different decision on that balmy night back in the West Village.

The spot in the West Village she’s referring to is mentioned on the first page of this essay, which begins:

A few months out of college, I stood on the corner of Seventh Avenue and Bleecker Street in New York City wearing pastel-blue balloon trousers, a hot pink V-neck T-shirt and bright white Capezio Oxfords. I lingered at the intersection peering deep into my future, contemplating the choice between the secure and the uncertain, between the creative and the logical, the known and the unknown.

I dreamed of being an artist and a writer, but inasmuch as I knew what I wanted, I felt compelled to consider what was ‘reasonable’ in order to safeguard my economic future. Even though I wanted what my best friend once referred to as ‘the whole wide world,’ I thought it was prudent to compromise.

Living very close to the corner of Seventh Avenue and Bleecker Street (I am on Thompson and Bleecker), and about to graduate college (though I don’t own a hot pink V-neck, nor do I know what balloon trousers are, really), I feel like I couldn’t have read this essay at a better time. I guess nobody really considers the possibility that a highly successful presence in the design world would regard such a career as ‘settling,’ but standing on my own corner and brimming with hope and greed and enthusiasm for possibility, and dreaming my own dreams of being an artist and a writer, I, too, am hoping first and foremost for financial stability once I turn the tassel.

As Robert Frost wrote: a poem ‘begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with.’

I recommend the following course of action for those who are just beginning their careers, or for those like me, who may be reconfiguring midway through: heed the words of Robert Frost. Start with a big, fat lump in your throat, start with a profound sense of wrong, a deep homesickness, or a crazy love sickess, and run with it. If you imagine less, less will be what you undoubtedly deserve. Do what you love, and don’t stop until you get what you love. Work as hard as you can, imagine immensities, don’t compromise, and don’t waste time. Start now. Not 20 years from now, not two weeks from now. Now.

I will try. Now.

True story: I got to say the word ‘dildo’ to graphic designer, design critic, former AIGA president and current Pentagram partner Michael Bierut. But he started it. Back in September when he spoke at AIGA/NY‘s My Dog and Pony II about the pitch he gave for the new Museum of Arts and Design logo. He’d said that despite the museum, then called the American Craft Museum, not wanting to change its name, he came up with an almost identical logo to the one used now, and convinced them otherwise. The logo seemed like such a great idea when he was designing it, but he said that the more he looked at it, the more uncertain he got — and the more it began to resemble either a whale or a dildo. The people at the museum had another thought, that it looked like a sarcophagus — at this point in the presentation, Michael said, ‘There are two things that you don’t want your design to look like. First is Nazis. Second is death.’ But the logo, as we all know, is a hit, and Michael Bierut was such a hilarious presenter that the audience couldn’t sit still for laughing.

Here is the logo in question:

I’d really admired the logo on my first visit to the museum in the summer. Sadly, the hilarious presentation left my mind tainted, and when Adri, Jessica and I made a trip to Sleepy Hollow the night before Halloween, I had to tell him that the logo would never be the same for me. His response was to laugh and admit, ‘Some things you’re better off not telling people.’ Luckily, the rest of the conversation consisted of more appropriate vocabulary, and he was so amazingly nice to talk to the three of us.

The gathering was for AIGA Metro-North‘s first official event. Metro-North is a new chapter, with a concentration on branding, so the night’s fittingly named event was Dead Brands. I’d planned on being a hermit all Halloween weekend, but this was too compelling to pass up. Luckily, Jessica lives in Tarrytown. The event took place in Sleepy Hollow, of which Michael Bierut is a resident, and the venue was the James House Mansion, a beautifully spooky place. Michael, standing on chair and lit from below, gave a list of seven of Sleepy Hollow’s most important dead brands.

Scott Lerman, board member of the new chapter and founder of Lucid Brands (also a very nice designer we got to meet), posted a video of the event here:

Michael Bierut—AIGA Metro-North DEAD BRANDS event from Scott Lerman on Vimeo.

If you haven’t the time to watch the video (it’s only half an hour long), here are the seven dead brands:

1. Washington Irving
Yes, a person, but a wily self-promoter/brander of the early 1800s. He posted ads all over the place about the disappearance of Dutch historian Diedrich Knickerbocker, claiming that if this man did not return to make the payments he owed, the manuscript found in his hotel room would be published. Irving published his own book under this pseudonym, and needless to say, it was a huge hit, grabbing the attention of those who followed the case of the imaginary missing person.

2. Croton Aqueduct
A water system that used to run from upstate all the way into Manhattan.

3. Maxwell-Briscoe
There used to be a huge GM plant in North Tarrytown, and they produced Maxwell-Briscoe cars. Michael actually used to live in Benjamin Briscoe’s house (he gives the address in the video, and good-naturedly invites you to drive by). This house, Michael said, ironically had a ‘miserably tiny garage.’

4. Kraft Fudgies
There used to be a Kraft factory nearby, and these treats are supposedly amazing. But dead.

5. Pocantico Expressway
This expressway cost $7 million to build, and was funded by the Rockefellers. It is now part of a freeway. I’m not too familiar with the roads upstate.

6. Gory Brook Road
The groundskeeper for the Rockefellers wrote a book called Pocantico, which included lots of sketchy stories of happenings on this road (where Michael lives now).

7. The Village of North Tarrytown
When Michael first moved to the area in 1984, he said that there was a vote happening to change North Tarrytown’s name to Sleepy Hollow, in honor of Washington Irving’s tale. This was a huge deal, because there was a huge rivalry between the North Tarrytown High School and Sleepy Hollow High School (which was located in Tarrytown). Michael said that it seemed to him and the other ‘yuppies’ in town like a good idea, and they didn’t get why it was such a bad thing. He said things about wanting to go in and change the stationery and be able to rebrand the entire town. The vote went through in 1996.

My really scant explanations don’t do Michael’s stories justice. It’s amazing how much knowledge is in that man’s head! When we talked to him afterwards, I said that it would be so interesting if he’d do something similar for Manhattan, and he mentioned that there are two expert historians who compete with one another to know the most about the city’s history, and he would not want to get into that. I think he could surely give them a run for their money.

And now, some photos. Here’s Adri with the honor of shining the light on Michael Bierut’s face.

There was a costume contest!

I believe Frieda took second.

And, of course, Tropicana took first. The wonderful Debbie Millman was there, and we got a chance to talk to her for a moment. She’s so sweet!

More photos (better ones, taken by Scott Lerman) can be seen here.

It was a really fun event, especially for our first time attending another chapter. Michael made the announcement that he is now officially a member of the Metro-North chapter, instead of the New York chapter. The food was amazing as well. I’ve never seen such a well-catered AIGA event before! As great as everything was, for us little students, the best part was the chance to talk to so many amazing designers.