TAKEAWAY: In a world where so many things are “oh, so 15 minutes ago” we now don’t call bad designs ugly; instead, we refer to them as “dated.”
Don’t know why, but today my head is in the mood for Albert Camus, with an eye on Mamie Eisenhower. Meanwhile, my fingers are quickly putting finishing touches on a chapter devoted to the economics of the iPad for my new digital book and my voice is saying that the world needs a little bit of nostalgia.
I know that the mix of items in the paragraph above can make you dizzy, or perhaps you think I have had an extra glass of Veuve Clicquot with dinner in Kuala Lumpur. No such thing. Malaysia is a society where tropical fruit juices appear when you least expect them. Make mine chilled mango, please. Clicquot can wait till weekend.
Camus, Mamie and nostalgia can’t.
It was Camus who said about nostalgia:
“Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being.”
It is only logical that Camus—-the Algerian-born existentialist who wrote his most influential and philosophical treatises after he relocated to France—would say this about nostalgia.
It is part of his notion of the absurd, perhaps, and his lack of hope and a sense of constant dissatisfaction.
However, in this quote, Camus uses nostalgia in a positive way, a longing for innocence. Exactly how I feel today.
Remembering Mamie
New edition of Mrs.Ike, by Susan Eisenhower, with cover design by J Ford Huffman
And to Baby Boomers like me, innocence and innocent times were those happy days of the 1950s. My friend and colleague, J Ford Huffman, just this week took me back to those days, and, specifically to reminiscing about our former First Lady Mamie Eisenhower.
You see, J Ford, former deputy managing editor of USA TODAY, has been commissioned to design a cover for a new edition of a book about Mrs. Ike. Indeed, that is the title of the biography by Susan Eisenhower, who is Mamie’s granddaughter and the author of half a dozen books.
J Ford and I exchanged friendly nostalgic notes about the Eisenhower era, and Mamie’s dresses (did she copy Lucille Ball, or vice versa?).
That exchange took us to reminiscing: the golden days of television, the movies, and, of course, newspapers.
We both decided we lost our innocence about the same time, but that is another story for another blog that should not be written.
Now back to nostalgia.
This same week, I heard someone I admire describe a certain design as “dated”.
“Ok,” I said. “What date? “
“The ‘90s,” I was told.
The ‘90s? God, that was only yesterday, I thought.
“Still dated,” I was told. “It is 2012, after all.”
Indeed.
Two weeks ago, an editor mentioned that a certain news story followed the style of the ‘80’s. “Dated in the approach, dated in the way the lead is put together,” the editor said, wearing a tie that I thought was sort of ‘70’s.
Not that the ‘70’s are not often mentioned, as when a designer allocates a full page to an avocado, with little text, no advertising, and just one word in a classic font that says A v o c a d o, in italics. Oh, I miss those avocado pages, too.
Seriously, I have come to think that “one week ago” is already dated. In the world of iPad development three weeks is six months, we are told, and I believe it.
Dated is new the ugly
Used to be that the worst thing you could tell a designer is that something was ugly.
Today, ugly is “dated”. But so is “not well balanced,“ ” too loud, “ ““too soft, “ or “too boring” . Just say “dated” and the new breed of “with it” designers gets the point, return to their Macs and come up with something that projects into 2020, or 2047, if you really want to avoid the dated connotation.
I preferred it when we called things by their proper names.
And the word for all of this dated stuff is “absurd”, which was Camus’ favorite. of course. Finally, I see eye to eye with Camus on something, which I never thought would happen.
But, don’t you dare call me dated!
