I’d heard of “philately” (the hobby of collecting stamps) and “philematology” (the science of kissing), but I just ran across these lovely examples of Czechoslovakian uncut matchbox labels and in turn learned a new word: “phillumeny,” the hobby of collecting match-related items. The word phillumeny isn’t found on merriam-webster.com, but phillumenist is: phil- + Latin lumen light. So, a love of light.

Like stamps, matchbox covers are appealing for their diminutiveness and creative license (though I’m disappointed at the USPS offerings right now).  But there is something else special about them: in collecting them, one is collecting memories of a place, a time, a mood. So taking the time to design them is a worthwhile endeavor.

Postage stamps may be a dying art, but I hope the matchbox/matchbook will be long-lived—and with as much attention given to design as in these early examples.

What are we, after all, without fire? (Or great design?)

One of the biggest challenges causes and nonprofits face is creating programs and initiatives that resonate with the people they’re trying to reach—especially given the hugely competitive landscape they’re facing today. There are countless charity walks and rubber bracelet offers and “drives” happening every month of the year, and it’s easy to lose track of the things you genuinely want to contribute to, no matter how valuable each cause might be. And they are valuable.

That’s why we get excited when we see an organization doing something new — something that speaks in a unique way both about those they’re supporting, and to the people whose support they’re seeking.

And as a designer, I’ve found a project that definitely speaks to me.

Yesterday, Design Ignites Change, a collaboration between the Adobe Foundation and Worldstudio, launched an initiative to help support its efforts in encouraging students to use design thinking to help solve existing challenges in their communities.

This particular effort—Feedback Loop Notebook—enlisted 25 leading letterpress printers to design fifty notebooks using donated paper from Mohawk Fine Papers (any stock of choice!)

The books went on sale yesterday with a special storefront on Felt & Wire Shop. The proceeds—100%, in fact, which is cause enough to celebrate!—will be used to support the School: by Design youth mentoring program.

Picking one for myself is going to be too hard; I might need three (or seven). But it’s nice to know that indulging in one of my loves—great design—will help foster a similar passion in someone else.

The ruffled feathers over this redesign—possibly as fraught with disappointment in the digital sphere as the Tropicana brand disaster of 2008 (okay maybe not soo boisterous!)—seems to us a bit over the top.

I asked some (might I say, often opinionated!) colleagues what they had to say about the new mark. With respect to execution and style: a resounding “what’s the big deal?”

We all have aesthetic opinions (we started as a design firm, after all), but is there more to this topic than just  jabs at bevels, gradients, and (overuse of) Photoshop?

Eric replied with this, “…if anything, there might be an interesting discussion based on the fact that the program is a lot more than a music player—it’s an opportunity for communication design (name + logo) to encapsulate and symbolize not only what it is now, but what it could be in the future….”

Says Roger: “The issue is not how you do the notes but whether the notes even make sense.” Roger added, “the mark could complement the program rather than illustrate it.”

Tamsen felt like it was a missed opportunity to take advantage of what iTunes has evolved into from its origins as a way to create and manage personal mp3 libraries: a program that, in many ways, has become a comprehensive facilitator of our listening / entertainment lives. In other words, she says, “Why not reflect what it is, rather than what it used to be?”

(And on that note: in addition to missing the boat on pushing it past a simple connection to music, Apple seems to have missed an opportunity to elevate the mark beyond its two-dimensional iconic form. Why not extend their HTML5 and CSS3 creativity to their thinking on icon design?)

Meg’s take: “I think the new icon reflects the reality that music comes to us in multiple forms nowadays—mp3s, CDs, the resurgence of vinyl, streaming programs, etc. All the old icon brought to mind was a CD or DVD—and I don’t own many of either anymore. I’d likely have chosen something more monochromatic, but it definitely stands out on my dock. Really, though, I don’t think anyone is going to not use iTunes because they don’t like the icon, and it’s not going to change anyone’s relationship with the brand.”

One of our developers, Matt, immediately saw the icon as “sticking out from the rest of the OSX default set. Unsure if this was a direct move to separate it away from the pack or to use the bolder blue to make it stand out and create more of a ‘home’ for users.” Otherwise he felt  iTunes 10—like its player—is nice and smooth in visual execution.To Matt’s point, if Apple had a simple design refresh in mind, why not stick to a systematic approach and update the icon to sit happily among its OSX cousins?

So you can see, our reactions to Apple’s design choice is mostly rooted in its concept. We may not all like the way the icon looks, but does it matter? As Meg pointed out, none of us (and we might suggest, none of you) are going to stop using iTunes in protest over design decisions about its icon.

Perhaps Apple’s icon design woes are of its own making: We (the world—not just us here on Blackstone Square) have come to expect Apple to unleash technology and design that exceeds our expectations, often wildly. So an unremarkable design? Pretty remarkable.

What do you think?

I didn’t think much about it, though a few other evening tweeters chimed in with their love of Nutella. But the next morning, I got this:

And this:

I checked the Pretzel Crisp profile to see if they were legit, and then figured, What the heck? So I sent off the address of our office brownstone, and true to the Pretzel’s word:

Yep, three bags of Pretzel Crisps (Classic, Supreme, and Cinnamon Toast), a Pretzel Crisp tote, t-shirt, and coupon… and a jar of Nutella.

While Pretzel Crisps are based out of New Jersey, they have a Boston-based marketing rep who clearly keeps her eyes peeled for snack-related tweets. Sustainable as a marketing strategy? Probably not. But remarkable? Absolutely. (I’m writing this post about it, aren’t I?)

Think about it: they essentially made a promise, and were willing to put themselves out (literally) to back it up. They found me on Twitter, so the probability of my making my reaction public, positive or negative, was high. But they reached out, and (again, literally) delivered. How many companies or organizations can and do the same?

The proof will be, of course, in whether or not I think of — and buy — Pretzel Crisps the next time I’m looking to restock the snack bin at my house. But it’s likely: my toddler son loves cinnamon toast (and pretzels!), and I have to agree… they taste GREAT with Nutella.

Though I play only a small part in getting this project together, I’m proud of the design materials that have come out of this collaboration. (Of course, it helps that I’m spoiled by my peers — volunteering is always so much more rewarding when you are eager to please your colleagues!)

This year we decided to refresh the design approach and update our tournament lockup. We achieved texture with the use of turf in our original designs, so I knew I wanted to keep this moving forward.

For the updated invite I created a layered pattern, with a little help from Photoshop, to emulate the craters of the ball. I knew what I wanted: saturated color, overexposed light but no loss in contrast, and slightly yellow to suggest a little vintage. (Did it work? You be the judge.)  Hopefully this got me something a little unexpected.

The display typeface on the ’08 – ’09 designs felt harsh with this imagery adjustment, so instead I chose Avenir —  a clean, soft, round face — something that paired well with the circular pattern. The 2010 lockup has a smooth round “swoosh” with a double line for movement expression, while its two-year-old sibling needed only one strong line to suggest the ball’s path. You can see the updates in the images here.

(If you would like to learn more about the HRC or how to volunteer with us, visit hrc.org or email me.)

Back when I started writing for the Web about nine years ago, before I joined the team at Sametz Blackstone, nobody really talked about “content.”

Words were either “copy” or “text” — or if they were published via a blog platform, they were “weblogging.”

Essentially, you wrote what your client wanted, and that was that. Testing methods were fairly archaic, and a profound lack of search competition meant even awkward sentence structure generated results.

The words we write for client websites now are still often just called “copy.” And weblogging is now “blogging.”

But now our clients want to talk about content, too.

Let’s get this straight: website copy and blogs are forms of content and always were, but the definition of content has blown up; it now serves as the umbrella term for everything you say about yourself or whatever it is you’re talking about, anywhere you say it, whether you use text, images, or a variety of other media.

If you post something somewhere folks can see it?

Content.

Now, I don’t actually want to get into what content is or isn’t, or  what it means to have a strategy for it. There are approximately 80 bajillion (excellent and not-so-excellent) articles and posts about those topics, all at your Googletips.

I’m more stuck on WHY all those articles are necessary.

Certainly…

• the rise of social platforms has opened up a universe of discussions that never could have happened before…
• companies and organizations and individuals are now subjected to more public scrutiny than ever before — for better or for worse…
• more and more people are leaping onto the Internet to make their fortunes or make their point or make their way, with a diverse range of motivations…

…so we’re madly in flux, with multiple channels and venues and variables in play. People want to get heard for every reason under the sun — but somewhere along the line, they’ve figured out that the people who snag eyes and ears have something called great content.

There it is again: Content! You need content! Content is king! It’s a brave new world, right?

So you go to all the trouble of writing and posting and tweeting and “Facebooking” a million things, and then…. nothing.

Huh? I thought content was important?

Well, it is.

But something else is more important.

While the way we communicate and share has evolved and expanded (and some might say, exploded!), one thing hasn’t changed at all: the most successful individuals / companies / organizations / boy bands are the ones who provide their audience, fans, customers, consumers, and clients with exactly what they want, whether in terms of their products, services, or messages (content!).

And maybe a good portion of the population doesn’t want it…  but someone does.

Sometimes it happens by accident, and a little bit of kismet turns an idea into a sensation. But more often than not, someone took the time to figure out what’s needed or what’s wanted, and what works — whether via research, trial and error, evolution, or good questions, posed in the right directions.

Sure, this might seem like a lot of trouble when you’ve got something to say, but before you do, ask yourself: do you care?

Not in a touchy-feely, “hug it out” kind of way, mind you — but in a “does this matter to anyone but me?” way.

Successful content — about whatever, for whomever, on whatever platform, and to whatever end — requires the same thing any successful venture does: that you know what others care about, and that you demonstrate that knowledge by providing it for them (and not just what you wish they’d wanted in the first place).

Or, if they don’t know they care yet, figuring out the way in through the things they do care about.

If you have no idea what your audience is looking for, or how they’re reacting to what you’re putting out now… and you’re not so much trying to find out?

Your content won’t be successful.

If you don’t care about giving people something they’ll value — but rather what you value, because it’s really, really important?

Your content won’t be successful.

If you can’t figure out how your goals align with those of your audience or you’re not working to strengthen any alignments you’ve found?

Your content won’t be successful.

If you’re not paying attention to the other people who talk about the same stuff you do?

Your content won’t be successful.

If you’ve come up with incredibly clever taglines and fantastic copy and informative posts that perfectly embody everything you are and you honestly think everyone else will love it, too, because you took so much time doing it... but you don’t verify that with anyone else?

Your content won’t be successful.

Face it: you can have the most UX-friendly structure! and author-friendly CMS! and a great messaging architecture! and keywords that seem bang-on! and the most search enging-optimized content for those keywords! and the best authors posting super often! and writing that shoots like laser beams from the screen to zap the eyes of your readership… but unless it’s what matters to your audience?

Your. Content. Won’t. Be. Successful.

If someone has to beg you to care about what the people you’re speaking to want to hear — that you should want to provide them with value, that you should be meeting a need, or at least a want — you’ll never get where you mean to go.

So work on caring first — with all the open-eyed listening and asking and noticing and research and responding and adjusting that entails — and content second.

And see where that gets you. Besides everywhere… and far.

Being a Digital Media Developer allows me to really enjoy the “The Five Years Ago Game,” an exercise in which I try to think up as many everyday 2010 things as I can that five years ago either did not exist or meant something different. These can be everything from proper nouns to phrases and slang, or even broad concepts. Given the absurdly dynamic nature of how we access and use the Internet, sometimes I feel like I can play for hours.

Here are a few I’ve recently come up with:

In August of 2005:

1. YouTube’s company headquarters consisted of a small office on top of a pizzeria.
2. Gmail was still invite-only.
3. There was no such thing as an iPhone, and the phrase “mobile apps” would’ve elicited strange looks.
4. Using the term “Blu-Ray” meant you were strictly an insider.
5. High School Students couldn’t use Facebook (not until September, anyway).
6. Twitter was just a word used in semi-common colloquialisms (e.g. “I’m all atwitter!”).
7. Movies were overwhelmingly “2D.”
8. Windows Vista had just been announced.
9. Saying “I’m a Mac” may have gotten you committed.
10. “Social Media” likely meant going out to the movies with friends.
11. MySpace was still at least sort of hip.
12. Consumer processors were almost entirely single-core (Pentium 4!).
13. Apple still used their own processors.
14. People were using Firefox 1, only recently changed from “Firebird.”
15. Kindle just meant “to catch fire.”

Care to join in? Post yours in the comments! And don’t feel restricted to just technology….

There’s absolutely nothing like holding an old black and white family portrait in your hands. Weathered and battered, maybe a little musty-smelling. There’s also nothing like holding a 40-year-old vinyl record in your hands, pulled out of the sleeve while taking a moment to admire the artwork and track listing, then placing it on the turntable, letting the needle drop every so gently on it.

While you may not share in either of these two experiences, I KNOW you can relate to something like it. These are the tangible elements of media that are fading away in technology’s wake. I’m not getting ink or lead smeared on the right side of my hand as I draft this post. No, I’m giving my fingers a workout as they type feverishly on my keyboard. Click, click, clicking away (and not in the cool typewriter sounding way).

Vinyl records have been able to make a significant comeback. People love the experience and thought of vinyl. But I fear for poor photographers and the seemingly ill-fated return of film, and for recording engineers and the return of analog tape in the recording studio. These beautiful mediums are lost due to the extreme cost benefits of using digital methods to capture the art.

Even as a tech-heavy guy, I worry as I snap photos on my phone or digital camera and dump them onto a hard drive that might fail in a year or two. (This is why you BACK. UP. folks!) I also worry as I burn a CD of an intangible set of mp3s, wondering how long that CD will last as it gets kicked around the center console of my car.

But what can we do?

As technology rapidly advances, we are quickly drifting away from being able to experience these tangible events and occurrences in our lives. While our smartphones, laptops, and digital cameras are making life much easier, they’re also killing the seeds of nostalgia. I really don’t think the next generation is going to get the same nostalgic feeling from swiping through .jpgs on their iPads as I do when holding a musty black and white photo.

Do you?