the power of (un)

Russell Davies has very kindly asked me to give a little talk about the joys of printing at his Interesting conference in London on June 16th. Ahead of that I thought it would be interesting to run a little experiment to see how something as obviously viral might work with paper and a postman.

This is all ahead of a ressurection (or should that be resucitation? re-ignition? re-gurgitation?) of Artomatic which is coming shortly.

If anyone’s interested in getting some stuff from the new artomatic, do get in touch with me at Tim[at]artomatic.co.uk

Surely to make this work properly, this cab would only go to areas at most risk of flooding. Would it patrol those same streets when it’s raining, driving slowly past people’s waterlogged homes, so they had time to find a dry sheet of paper and write the telephone number down?

Anita Roddick is on record that she regarded (when she owned it) The Body Shop was a political campaigning organisation first, product company second. Now, of course, she doesn’t own it, L’Oreal does. So, why cling on the politics at all?

Then it was scrappy, slightly homespun–you were buying some of their opinions in every bottle.The Body Shop now is a fairly polished, accomplished, good value skin care retailer–kind of Top Shop for the bathroom. Long ago they ditched the window posters of starving Africans in favour of glamourous models, but this glib attempt at ‘taking a stance’ is worse than not caring. Well, it is not caring; it’s just not caring while trying to exploit those who do care.

I never said this idea was original, but it’s fun to see it cropping up in various places. Here’s one.

And again

And, unfortunately, this rather well known one:

What do you imagine Mr and Mrs Francisco had in mind when they were pouring over the what-to-name-your-baby books all those years ago? Did they think they’d be giving their daughter the very best advantage in life by making her memorable?

Or did they just really like the name San(dra)?

The cultural cross-roads of what’s original (and an offence) and what’s derivative (advertising) moves a little nearer. See my previous post–I think this is a going to be a recurring theme.

Living in America is like living in England in the seventies before Terrence Conran and all the graphic designers made everything look the same.

In the UK it’s hard to find to something that’s not had the hand of the graphic designer passed over it, whereas in America, it’s still seen as an option. And though it makes England seem very considered and polished, it also makes it seem very sterile. There’s so little of our vernacular language left, it’s hard to imagine how much texture it must have given us.

One thing that strikes me about the Land Of The Free is quite how many rules there are compared with the UK. For instance: what happens when you see an ambulance coming your way? In the US, you’re obliged by law to pull over, otherwise, you’ll get a ticket. In the UK, you, er, pull over. If you don’t… you’ll, er, feel bad for the rest of the day. There doesn’t appear to be a lot of difference between the ability of American ambulances to part traffic than with their British counterparts.

This discreet piece of sign-writing (not cad-cut vinyls) on the side of this ‘historic taxi’ is the driver’s cell phone number (begins with 07). No mention is made of phones, let alone mobiles. In assuming we all know it’s a phone number (it doesn’t say ‘TEL’), it simply connects the number to the need - get a TAXI. It manages to communicate a modern function in an entirely incongruous historic setting. Museums and historic buildings: take note.

Life is better when we’re not told everything:

Here’s an idea. Why don’t I keep the posts the same and just change the logo? That would be kind of (un)branding wouldn’t it? (or maybe not for some companies). Well, here goes…