Tuesday, 11 December 2012

Playing Office


Jean-François Millet, The Gleaners 1857
I'm at the point where I needed to design my corporate identity yesterday, instead of just talking about it. I'm getting shirts silkscreened and want it printed at the center back neck instead of a scratchy sewn in label. I also need sewn-in woven labels for my jackets. And, order all of the paper accoutrements: business cards, hang tags, signs for my upcoming tradeshow booth, etc. I adore stationery. I enlisted my husband and, more importantly, his degree in graphic design to help out. I want something Modern, although I'm not fully sure what I mean by that. A few years ago, it seemed like that font all over Redchurch Street was the next wave of fashion graphic design, but we are now in the sticks and aren't really sure what the future looks like. (Husband informs me that the "Redchurch Font" is often, but not always Futura.) We did some sketches over coffee and snow cones. I want something clean, but also imperfect. My clothing designs are inspired by quilting techniques, so it should be something graphic but not uncozy, yet not entirely comfortable. My husband keeps making sketches with dotted lines to hint at stitching; they look too Etsy-y. I keep thinking about that Millet painting, The Gleaners; I've always loved it's oppressive horizon line. But, I also want something with a bit of skate and surf culture to it. These directions make my graphic designer roll his eyes, so it was time to go home.

I try some mock-ups on Illustrator; obviously, I'm a graphic design genius. The expert kindly agrees that there is something in there that can be teased out. He plays around with them, and there is one design that is simple and striking, just a block and text. Too simple? Too German architect with white shirts and round glasses? I try making it more quilt-y, but it quickly devolves into looking like nautical flags.  Until now most of my professional life has been doing heritage menswear design that was, in part,  "inspired by yachting", so that is the last connotation. The only boats I've been on are paddleboats and an unpleasant, tacky overnight ferry between Hoek van Holland and Essex. He suggests painting the block.  The last time I tried painting within the lines –for my silkscreen– it looked disappointingly homemade. My sister, a fashion illustrator, suggests painting an area and cutting it out in Photoshop.  This works. I can be like Lanvin and change the color of the block every season! It will be so chic. It has the mark of the maker, and my glorious, oppressive horizon while also looking like a giant wave. Or at least how I imagine a giant wave looks.  My next steps are daunting and less fun. I need to hunt down a Pantone book to make sure the colors print as I need them to. I have no idea how the painted area will translate into a woven label. And, then I would return to square one.