Brendan Nystedt, reporting for Wired on a new generation of admirers of crappy digital cameras from the early 2000s:

For those seeking to experiment with their photography, there’s an appeal to using a cheap, old digital model they can shoot with until it stops working. The results are often imperfect, but since the camera is digital, a photographer can mess around and get instant gratification. And for everyone in the vintage digital movement, the fact that the images from these old digicams are worse than those from a smartphone is a feature, not a bug.

Om Malik attributes it to wabi-sabi:

Retromania? Not really. It feels more like a backlash against the excessive perfection of modern cameras, algorithms, and homogenized modern image-making. I don’t disagree — you don’t have to do much to come up with a great-looking photo these days. It seems we all want to rebel against the artistic choices of algorithms and machines — whether it is photos or Spotify’s algorithmic playlists versus manually crafted mixtapes.

I agree, though I do not see why we need to find just one cause — an artistic decision, a retro quality, an aesthetic trend, a rejection of perfection — when it could be driven by any number of these factors. Nailing down exactly which of these is the most important factor is not of particular interest to me; certainly, not nearly as much as understanding that people, as a general rule, value feeling.

I have written about this before and it is something I wish to emphasize repeatedly: efficiency and clarity are necessary elements, but are not the goal. There needs to be space for how things feel. I wrote this as it relates to cooking and cars and onscreen buttons, and it is still something worth pursuing each and every time we create anything.

I thought about this with these two articles, but first last week when Wil Shipley announced the end of Delicious Library:

Amazon has shut off the feed that allowed Delicious Library to look up items, unfortunately limiting the app to what users already have (or enter manually).

I wasn’t contacted about this.

I’ve pulled it from the Mac App Store and shut down the website so nobody accidentally buys a non-functional app.

Delicious Library was many things: physical and digital asset management software, a kind of personal library, and a wish list. But it was also — improbably — fun. Little about cataloguing your CDs and books sounds like it ought to be enjoyable, but Shipley and Mike Matas made it feel like something you wanted to do. You wanted to scan items with your Mac’s webcam just because it felt neat. You wanted to see all your media on a digital wooden shelf, if for no other reason than it made those items feel as real onscreen as they are in your hands.

Delicious Library became known as the progenitor of the “delicious generation” of applications, which prioritized visual appeal as much as utility. It was not enough for an app to be functional; it needed to look and feel special. The Human Interface Guidelines were just that: guidelines. One quality of this era was the apparently fastidious approach to every pixel. Another quality is that these applications often had limited features, but were so much fun to use that it was possible to overlook their restrictions.

I do not need to relitigate the subsequent years of visual interfaces going too far, then being reeled in, and then settling in an odd middle ground where I am now staring at an application window with monochrome line-based toolbar icons, deadpan typography, and glassy textures, throwing a heavy drop shadow. None of the specifics matter much. All I care about is how these things feel to look at and to use, something which can be achieved regardless of how attached you are to complex illustrations or simple line work. Like many people, I spend hours a day staring at pixels. Which parts of that are making my heart as happy as my brain? Which mundane tasks are made joyful?

This is not solely a question of software; it has relevance in our physical environment, too, especially as seemingly every little thing in our world is becoming a computer. But it can start with pixels on a screen. We can draw anything on them; why not draw something with feeling? I am not sure we achieve that through strict adherence to perfection in design systems and structures.

I am reluctant to place too much trust in my incomplete understanding of a foreign-to-me concept rooted in another country’s very particular culture, but perhaps the sabi is speaking loudest to me. Our digital interfaces never achieve a patina; in fact, the opposite is more often true: updates seem to erase the passage of time. It is all perpetually new. Is it any wonder so many of us ache for things which seem to freeze the passage of time in a slightly hazier form?

I am not sure how anyone would go about making software feel broken-in, like a well-worn pair of jeans or a lounge chair. Perhaps that is an unattainable goal for something on a screen; perhaps we never really get comfortable with even our most favourite applications. I hope not. It would be a shame if we lose that quality as software eats our world.

Nilay Patel, of the Verge, interviewed Hanneke Faber, CEO of Logitech, for the Decoder podcast.

NP […] You sell me the keyboard once. It’s got Options Plus. It has an AI button. I push the button, and someone has to make sure the software still works. Someone probably has to pay ChatGPT for access to the service. Where is that going to come from? Are you baking that into the margin of the keyboard or the mouse?

HF Absolutely. We’re baking that in, and I’m not particularly worried about that. What I’m actually hoping is that this will contribute to the longevity of our products, that we’ll have more premium products but products that last longer because they’re superior and because we can continue to update them over time. And again, I talked about doubling the business and reducing the carbon footprint by half. The longevity piece is really important.

I’m very intrigued. The other day, in Ireland, in our innovation center there, one of our team members showed me a forever mouse with the comparison to a watch. This is a nice watch, not a super expensive watch, but I’m not planning to throw that watch away ever. So why would I be throwing my mouse or my keyboard away if it’s a fantastic-quality, well-designed, software-enabled mouse. The forever mouse is one of the things that we’d like to get to.

Faber goes on to say this is a mouse with always-updated software, “heavier” — which I interpreted as more durable — and something which could provide other services. In response to Patel’s hypothetical of paying $200 one time, Faber said the “business model obviously is the challenge there”, and floats solving that through either a subscription model or inventing new products which get buyers to upgrade.

The part of this which is getting some attention is the idea of a subscription model for a mouse which is, to be fair, stupid. But the part which I was surprised by is the implication that longevity is not a priority for business model reasons. I am not always keen to ascribe these things to planned obsolesce, yet this interview sure looks like Faber is outright saying Logitech does not design products with the intention of them lasting for what at least seems like “forever”.

To be fair, I have not bought anything from Logitech in a long time, and I do not remember when I last did. I believe its cable may have terminated in a PS/2 plug. I switched to a trackpad on my desk long ago. When I bought my Magic Trackpad in 2015, I assumed I would not have to replace it for at least a decade; nine years later, I have not even thought about getting a new one. Even if its built-in battery dies — its sole weakness — I think I will be able to keep using it in wired mode.

But then I went on Wikipedia to double-check the release date of the second-generation Magic Trackpad, and I scrolled to the “Reception” section. Both generations were criticized as being too expensive at $70 for the first version, and $130 for the second. But both price tags seem like a good deal for a quality product. Things should be built with the intention they will last a long time, and a $200 mouse is a fine option if it is durable and could be repaired if something breaks.

I know this is something which compromises business models built on repeat business from the same customers, whether that means replacing a broken product or a monthly recurring charge. But it is rare for a CEO to say so in such clear terms. I appreciate the honesty, but I am repelled by the idea.

⌥ Permalink

Lily Dupuis, CBC News:

Calgary: Blue Sky City.

That’s the new city slogan unveiled by Calgary Economic Development and Tourism Calgary on Wednesday, replacing “Be Part of the Energy,” marking the start of a new era of branding.

Strategists with the groups say this new brand is a nod to innovation — Calgary being a city of blue-sky thinking — and one that reflects all Calgarians.

Richard White:

Calgary tried to rebrand itself in the late ‘90s as the “Heart of the New West.” And when that didn’t work, in 2011 we tried “Be Part of the Energy.” It didn’t work either. The fact is, the best city nicknames are not contrived in workshops and brainstorming sessions, they happen at more a grassroots level or based on some obvious fact. I wonder, “Can a city give itself a nickname?”

Daughter is responsible for this rebranding:

We created a visual language inspired by beadwork, a cross-cultural art form where individual elements come together to form something strong, beautiful, and greater than the sum of its parts — a balance of individuality and collective identity. This is reflected in a dynamic logo system, and a broader visual language of beadwork and patterning.

I do not like linking to hard paywalled things, but Armin Vit of Brand New recently reviewed this new identity and it is exceptionally thoughtful:

I was in Calgary once in the dead of winter for a quick in-and-out trip so I saw a limited range of the city, which felt a little desolate in the 48 hours I was there and it was just brutally cold too. Sunny, though! So I can attest to that. Overall, this helps present Calgary in, almost literally, a new light and it should help in attracting visitors and business or at least consider it as a viable alternative to the more popular Canadian destinations like Toronto, Montréal, and Vancouver.

Even though it intersects perfectly with my local interests and design career, I have been sitting on this news for a while because it is the kind of thing which needs to settle. It is a huge ask to give a city a marketable identity. The most successful of them, as White points out, are given by others or earned, not self-created.

That must have been a tall order for Daughter. Mohkinstsis, and other names for this area before it was colonized, are a reference to our two major rivers and the elbow junction where they meet. Post-colonization, the city was known first as the “sandstone city” and then the Stampede City. “Calgary” possibly traces its name to Old Norse words for “cold garden”. But the city, as Calgary, is relatively new — incorporated just 140 years ago — and we are in the midst of attempting to correct for the terrible legacy of colonizer violence. Wrapping all of this together in a pleasant visual identity to market to tourists is surely a difficult task.

I think Daughter and the others involved in this rebrand have largely succeeded. Past rebranding attempts have centred an outdated cowboy image and our filthy petrochemical industry. To that end, it sure looks a little like greenwashing — or, perhaps, bluewashing. But, while locals like White have reacted somewhat negatively to the change, the more international commenters on Brand New are effusive in their praise.

I think it is an impressive rebrand, though the typesetting of the “blue sky city” tagline looks disconnected to my eyes from the rest of the work. Perhaps this is only a reflection of my writing this under a cloudy sky. Everything in this package positions Calgary as a destination which may be overlooked outside of ten days each July, but it also suggests a nagging subtext: Montreal, Toronto, and Vancouver speak for themselves, but Calgary needs to be taglined and positioned. We are a city of a million and a half people and we are not yet acting like it.

⌥ Permalink

Based on what I can surmise from the upload dates, this collection of computer brochures has been around for years, but I was only recently made aware of it thanks to the latest issue of Web Curios. What a lovely collection of history in both technology and a very particular era in design.

⌥ Permalink

Apple’s Human Interface Guidelines:

[Beginning in iOS 18 and iPadOS 18] People can customize the appearance of their app icons to be light, dark, or tinted. You can create your own variations to ensure that each one looks exactly the way you way you want. See Apple Design Resources for icon templates.

Design your dark and tinted icons to feel at home next to system app icons and widgets. You can preserve the color palette of your default icon, but be mindful that dark icons are more subdued, and tinted icons are even more so. A great app icon is visible, legible, and recognizable, even with a different tint and background.

Louie Mantia:

Apple’s announcement of “dark mode” icons has me thinking about how I would approach adapting “light mode” icons for dark mode. I grabbed 12 icons we made at Parakeet for our clients to illustrate some ways of going about it.

I appreciated this deep exploration of different techniques for adapting alternate icon appearances. Obviously, two days into the first preview build of a new operating system is not the best time to adjudicate its updates. But I think it is safe to say a quality app from a developer that cares about design will want to supply a specific dark mode icon instead of relying upon the system-generated one. Any icon with more detail than a glyph on a background will benefit.

Also, now that there are two distinct appearances, I also think it would be great if icons which are very dark also had lighter alternates, where appropriate.

⌥ Permalink

I have very little to add to Tyler Hall’s idea for revealing per-document settings, other than to say that it is so joyful and it makes complete sense. If you watch one thirty-second design demo today, make it this one.

⌥ Permalink