Let's just say you are a graphic designer who, for the past ten years, has been handling all the print design for a great company. That company has experienced significant growth (due in part to your stellar designs!) and has decided to hire a marketing director to coordinate all their advertising. Your first introduction to this person comes in the form of a lengthy email which outlines his many qualifications and illustrious marketing career. And it comes off a bit pompous, but whatever. The signature of the email, which contains his name, title, and contact info is set in the font Comic Sans (eeek!) and each line is a different color of the rainbow. Which should be the first sign that he may be a bit, um, artistically challenged. But you give him the benefit of the doubt, because you're cool like that.
Over the next few weeks, you begin to work on your first project for Mr. Comic Sans, a tri-fold brochure. He sends you the text for the brochure in a SEVEN-page Word document. And even though fitting this much text into the design is near impossible, you manage to create a fabulous, eye-catching design anyway. You send him the concept. And he replies with another FIVE-page Word document of revisions. What?!?? Included in those revisions are the phrases "too much white space," "need clip art of dancing book here," and "can we use the font Comic Sans for the text?"
Ugh. {and insert a few other choice expletives here.}
You try, really you do, to incorporate some of these horrendous ideas into the design. But you draw the line at canned clip-art of dancing books. With smiley faces. And little bow ties. And the dear client's response? He sends you a clever mock-up he's created in Microsoft Publisher to demonstrate his design ability. And then he is surprised, shocked even, to find out that you don't use Microsoft Publisher and can't open the document. "Oh, you're using a Mac? And InDesign? Is that even a Microsoft product!?"
{A few more expletives. And a damning of Bill Gates to hell.}
You decide a phone conversation with Mr. Marketing Director is in order. Maybe then you can persuade him to consider letting you, the graphic artist, have some creative license. After all, YOUR resume actually includes some art education, unlike Señor MBA here. Needless to say, the phone call is unsuccessful. He does toss out the idea of "squishing all the lines of text together to make room for more!" At some point he actually mutters the phrase "white space is overrated."
Son.of.a.bitch.
So, wouldn't you, as a talented graphic designer, feel an overwhelming need to purchase a cross-country plane ticket, march into this guy's office, and kick him squarely in the nads? In the name of white space everywhere?!
See, I knew you blog readers with agree with me. Errrr, I mean some random graphic designer that is definitely NOT me.
