Helvetica is the new black

A good friend of mine sent me a link to a graphic agency site, and as he was impressed by it, and I value his design ability, I was looking forward to seeing it.

I’m struck first by the pretentious references to abstract concepts … then I find myself looking at the logo. I should point out that – like Boost – the company sells Branding amongst its main services. This means that they, like me, advise clients every day about injecting personality, values and reaching the intended target audience. We talk about differentiation.

Branding is what sets you apart from the rest.

Helvetica is fast becoming one of the most commonly used print and logotype fonts in the Western world. It’s ubiquitous. Yet, so many design agencies use this font as a lazy, safe, bland solution to their own branding needs. Just like someone wearing all-black at a dinner party. What they’re saying is: I think I look stylish, understated and intellectual, and I promise I won’t create any trouble, as I’m scared of standing out from the crowd and stating my own opinions.

I look on design agencies using Helvetica as their ‘logo’ with disdain. Come on you so-called brand designers! Practice what your preach!

 

Is that the time?

As fellow iPhone OS4 users will know, alarms were ringing nationwide yesterday – an hour too late – due to a software bug. Fortunately for me (I think), the kids woke me before the alarm would have anyway, but it didn’t stop it ringing later on, all the way to school, much to Joe’s annoyance.

And because I couldn’t for the life of me find the damn alarm setting it was meant to be, I couldn’t switch it off until I rebooted it an hour later. Apple should consider this a wake-up call to get their act together (groan).

 

Tingling all over

This weekend saw the latest T-Mobile ad, and it stopped me and my extended family in our tracks as all eyes turned to the telly in my parents’ living room.

For those of you who have somehow, unbelievably, missed the whole clip, here it is:

T-Mobile, Welcome Back, October 29th 2010

No instruments??! Incredible. Still sends shivers down my spine.

Oh the power of song and dance en masse.

The rise and rise of the Scottish accent

I may have to reign in my vowels sometimes, but there’s no mistaking the fact I’m a Geordie lass (though for the pedants out there, I’m actually from Chester-le-Street, in County Durham). Even if you forget the ‘Cheryl Cole’ effect that has sexed up the Geordie accent, we have long been thought of as warm and honest, salt-of-the-earth, friendly types.

In all areas of my life, this has its advantages. Living in Bristol, my accent is not just a conversation-opener and ice-breaker, it makes people drop their guard a little. It sealed me my first date with my wife, and even in business it’s an advantage to be seen as approachable, because business is made between people, not companies. Only once in my life have I noticed my accent work against me, but the woman in question was patronising to everyone alike, “bless“.

I’ll be honest: I love accents, every single one. And in the UK, we have many. But I have a confession to make: my favourite of all, is Irish. It’s cheeky, playful and really rather sexy.

The Irish twang– like so many other accents – has been allowed to flourish since Auntie Beeb dropped its predilection for plum vowel sounds. From the Big Brother House, to regional news, and all the inflections in between, we can sample a range nowadays that more accurately represents our diverse Island  cultures.

So, do I wish I was Irish? Surprisingly not. Of course, I wouldn’t give up my roots for anything! But when it comes to an impression of high efficiency, slick delivery and people who just generally know what they’re talking about, you’ve got to hand it to the Scottish. How else could Gordon Brown have fooled us so easily? Those tight-lipped vowels and clear consonants, delivered with no time to waste, surely make it the best accent to have on these shores.

Of course, if you disagree, we can always pop doon the local for a pint ana stotty an hev a chat aboot it. Alreet pet?

Traci Rochester

When the past is in front of you

I’m preparing a collection of photographs for a gift to celebrate my mother’s 70th birthday, which has meant trawling through some very old, very long-forgotten boxes in the attic.

Besides the customary snapshots I wish I’d never kept – photographs I would loathe anyone else to see, I’ve stumbled upon other memorabilia, including the degree show catalogue from my LCP days, humourous letters, love letters, diaries, sketches, newspaper clippings and notes …

The biggest surprises are those that are unwittingly prophetic.

When I left Coventry Polytechnic (since renamed Lanchester Poly) after the first year of my graphics degree, for the dizzy heights of London and the LCP, I had – as one might expect – a booze-fuelled ‘Goodbye’ party in the pub with all my Coventry peers. One of them, called Pog, wrote on a beer mat that he’d see me again when we were “top of the graphics world”. Well I am delighted and proud to inform you that Pog certainly did as he promised and is now a leading creative figure in a top London agency – ironic, given that I have since left. Alas, I suspect he may have a bit of a wait on his hands for me to catch up!

I rummage some more …

I see old photos of my nieces and nephews and discover with awe so much genetic influence between them and my son. I look at old pictures of my daughter as a baby and find it hard to believe it’s her. They bring tears to my eyes and love crushes me in that breath-stopping way – you know, when you feel a tightening of the muscles around the heart.

I also come across more photographs of myself, which engulf me in sadness as they smack me in the face and gut with memories long gone. They are of a time in my life that was full of confusion, loneliness, overeating, over-drinking, yet never really being full at all, just a void. Thank God those miserable days are far behind me, my demons have been addressed, and my life now has meaning.

However, the most pertinent discoveries are of evidence I was very good at 4 things: advertising concepts, drawing (I had a feverish appetite for drawing people when I was in my Art Foundation year), writing, and (if I go back as far as my school reports) pure mathematics.

These raise interesting questions during this time of immense economic change. As the graphic design industry starts to fall to its knees, I need to invest more energy in the more reliable training side of my business. But these reminders of other potential within me bring a ray of bright sudden light into my consciousness. The only drawback is that there are 4 possible routes for me to take. It may seem ungrateful to say it, but I find myself wishing I had only recognised 1.

Will I meet Pog again one day (we have not met since 1986), when I too am a leading Creative Director? Will I be a writer in 5 years’ time? Will my drawing hunger come back? Will I defy all this and turn to maths, much to the delight of my statistician father?

Watch this space: I hope one day I can wave to you and shout: “Hey, I’m over here! I came such and such a way, and found my true vocation!”

By Traci Rochester

The Last Day

Today’s blog is on a personal note but not lacking in resonance regarding marketing strategy.

This morning I received an email from the author Glenn Kleier. On a very old blog of mine I listed his book, The Last Day, as one of my favourites, and Glenn became aware of the fact (strangely it seems: 3 years after the post was written).

I cannot stress highly enough how much I enjoyed the book, especially because I read it mid-1999, when it had a salient edge and people all over the world felt the coming of 2000 heralded something magnificently good or magnificently bad. I was so blown away by the book, I went out and bought several copies, to give to friends as gifts (I’m a great advocate to have, as it turns out).

So imagine my delight, when the author contacted me today to thank me for the mention. Mr Kleier’s simple and courteous email contact brought back to me how much I had revelled in reading that book – so much so that I decided I shall read it again over the next few days.

Then I stopped and thought “Wow!”. It may be very small-scale, but this is a good lesson in customer relations. One personal communication, concise and un-formatted (i.e. not an e-shot), straight from the horse’s mouth, so-to-speak. A simple act, that has brightened my day.

Personal communication really does work. Customer relations really do need to be nurtured. In any business.

So … let’s hear it for Glenn Kleier, who not already has a place in my top 10 favourite books list, but who has sealed his position in my mind as a really rather decent chap who took time out of his day to thank me through a computer half way round the world.

As if the internet wasn’t amazing enough.

By Traci Rochester

Priceless or worthless?

Business is tough, very tough. Moaning and bitching is a cardinal sin in business (assuming you class yourself as a business person as well as, or above, being a designer). Instead you have to pick yourself up, dust yourself down and NOT cry over spilt milk. Instead, we should be asking ourselves “What can we do about this?”.

And d’you know what? Much as we like to berate clients for undervaluing professional design services, it is other designers to blame. If they provide a design service for free, it’s worthless. For friends, family, perhaps… if you love someone enough to give that much of your time and ability… but NEVER EVER in business. I hold those designers purely and simply responsible for the absolute decline in the design industry, whatever their motives. To undercut is one thing, to value at nothing is another.

At Boost, I am currently rethinking my entire strategy and would encourage all small agencies to do the same. Whether we like it or not, the industry we love so much is in a huge decline, and we are all going to have to be extremely creative – not in our design ability, but in our business models and approach.

Beware Richard Branson’s wise words about the miliner who believed and saw only what he wanted to: “Don’t worry son, people will always need hats”.

Some industries, like mining, chimney sweeping etc, simply reach a point of saturation or “perceived” uselessness and simply implode. After that, there are only a very few left in the profession: the brave, savvy or wealthy ones. While everybody else moves on to new business and new adventures. Which are you?

No worries

Yesterday my 5-year old son came home from school and breezing into my office, swept the paperwork off my easy chair, put his right thumb in his mouth and placed his Pokemon album on his lap. As I turned to him, he removed his thumb from his mouth briefly, to tell me to stop what I was doing and watch him count his Pokemon cards.

I have to love his priorities.

Up the Quark without a paddle

A long time ago, in my freelance days, I worked at an office where I shouldn’t have been needed, were it not for the Deputy Art Ed being so slow, even on deadline. It was thanks to him I earned so much money from that company. So you could say my earnings there were not so much due to an effort on my part as due to a lack of effort on his.

I could draw similar parallels with the Quark v InDesign argument.

The people who produce Quark Xpress remain defiant, stubborn and conventional. They refuse to move with the times and change gears. They haemorrhage graphic and publishing designers who choose to migrate to inDesign, because the developers insist on charging prices that are uncompetitive, and keeping a program interface that is clunky and awkward to use.

I used to revere the Quark outfit, proud to announce to anyone that Quark was my favoured software for page layout and design. My, how things have changed.

InDesign is so well integrated into the Creative Suite and PDF creation, and so intuitive to use, I cannot see how Quark will survive for the next 5 years. More than that, the chiefs at Adobe have had the ingenuity to combine their aspirations with Apple, by optimising their Creative Suite functionality for the gesture-based Apple technology that is taking the latter to breath-taking heights in the media world.

In 2004 I never thought I would say it: Quark is second-fiddle.

You heard it here first … or did you?

Yesterday I saw my dear old friends from BBC Wildlife for lunch. One of them commented on a ‘revolutionary’ device being tested in some supermarkets to keep teenagers under control: a sound that only teenagers can hear. Now, if I’m not mistaken it was while working on BBC Wildlife Magazine, many moons ago, that I first learned that not everyone can hear the noises bats make.

I have my own theories about sound, and my own ability to hear it, given that our old fridge used to sing quiet Hindi tunes to me, and that I can detect whether electricity is switched on at the mains. My aunt and cousin have both been diagnosed with high/low frequency syndrome, which favours both extremes of the natural human hearing range over a lot of mid-frequency noise (including human speech). The condition is hereditary.

So, I thought I’d do an online test for myself. My friend’s theory was that the older you are, the less likely you will be to hear the sound. Seems like a reasonable suggestion: psychologists have long studied the ability to distinguish between different linguistic subtleties in babies and toddlers and would agree with her that these finely-tuned abilities become switched off at a certain age because we no longer need them. So, without further ado …

Here’s the test link. You should find lots of other fun stuff on there too – it’s a great site.

Unsurprisingly, I heard it just fine, but didn’t have to cover my ears. Perhaps in 10 years I won’t hear it at all.

Entry by Traci Rochester