adventures in the skin trade
“A 15-year-old girl has filed a $50,000 claim against the Burbank school district for suspending her because the sweat shirt she fashioned to mourn a slain classmate was imprinted with Old English-style letters that school officials regard as gang symbols...,” the Los Angeles Times recently reported. The cover of the Constitution is printed in the same lettering, the student’s ACLU lawyer observed. “‘We thought that was the nicest looking writing. Even Disneyland uses it on some of its signs,’ the girl’s mother, Ruth Cisneros said... ‘How can they object to a typeface and not the message?’” 1
“
As the pace of our culture accelerates, surfaces are stripped away, their skins lifted, reapplied and reassigned meanings with increasing frequency.
”
From the Halls of Justice to Sleeping Beauty’s castle, forms gain their meaning through cultural agreement, rather than through an intrinsic nature of their own. Within each new context, Old English lettering becomes a stylistic signifier, encoded through its use. “Gang style” or “Authoritarian style” or “Storybook style” are descendant mutations of texture, a calligraphic writing style prevalent throughout much of Medieval Europe. In the Gothic era it served a functional purpose; its compact design helped conserve the expensive parchment of the educational and liturgical books produced in monastic scriptoria.
Historic forms are up for grabs. As the pace of our culture accelerates, surfaces are stripped away, their skins lifted, reapplied and reassigned meanings with increasing frequency. In this cultural condition, graphic design is both participant and product. In practice, the design profession embraces stylistic fashion and fleeting design stars. Yet at the same time, the rapid turnover dizzies the Rational Functionalist in each of us; the apparent reign of surface style leaves us on unsure footing.