A New Vernacular
Author of this post: Katherine Feo | About Blog Authors »
This blog has seen a rash of posts addressing the issue of design snobbery, from typography to magazine readership. I always find this an interesting topic because design is ostensibly art put to marketable use ‘for the people’, yet often tows a pretty snooty line when it comes to defending itself against aesthetic and professional impurities. (Several terrific fights in the design world that have erupted over this issue immediately come to mind: 2006’s spectacular James Dyson vs. Alice Rawsthorn blow-out over her inclusion of ‘fluffy’ exhibitions at the Design Museum in London, and of course the ongoing battle of type designers against comic sans discussed recently by Tara McKay).
Everyday design—not the trendy DIY kind produced by professional designers, or the kitschy vintage graphics theorized as ‘vernacular’ forms of pop communication, but the self-styled websites, signage, and branding created and consumed daily by millions of Americans—isn’t always OK in the design world. This might be because while vintage kitsch now appears charming, contemporary kitsch seems just, well, ugly.
I present to you the cult sensation www.dottisweightlosszone.com.
Run by ordinary gal-turned-weight loss guru Dotti Coon, dwlz.com is a delightful hodge-podge of tips, dieting FAQs, personal memoirs of Dotti’s own weight loss ‘journey’, inspirational essays and songs by her husband Al, and, most importantly, a compilation of years of hard work calculating the nutritional information for seemingly every chain of restaurant in America. This Herculean task alone has inspired legions of devoted followers: even though it might not be on the design community radar, it’s still a site that has been used over 50 million times since 1998.
The site itself is a small wonder, or nightmare, depending on how you see things. Information appears on arbitrarily arranged buttons, ads and tables of varying sizes (usually accompanied by a few flower graphics, some blinking neon and numerous photos of Dotti herself), none of which fall into an immediately apparent organizational hierarchy. The chaos should be confusing, but actually it’s oddly… comforting. Engaging. Intimate, and, against all odds, easy to navigate. Dotti herself maintains a strong voice throughout the site, creating a presence in every rollover graphic, personal photo and heavily exclamation-pointed sentence that satisfies all the emotional needs of her intended audience: she’s motivating because she’s down there with you in the weight loss trenches, making her site suit the needs of people who are just like her.
So is this site an example ‘vernacular’ design? Design is meant to facilitate information—dwlz does this effectively, if slightly chaotically, by providing more information in a more understandable way than almost any other diet site on the web. Design is meant to make life easier—dwlz is one of the only online tools that offers hard facts about the nutritional information in the increasingly bloated American restaurant diet. Design is a tool for social change—dwlz provides a link to petition congress to pass an act that would require all restaurants to provide patrons with the nutritional info of their menu. In an era where obesity is an increasingly urgent and widespread health issue, dwlz is actually a remarkable, and remarkably singular, web resource for anyone who cares about what they put into their bodies.
If you ask me, something about the rabid defense of design purity smacks of gender bias. In the Design Museum example, the exhibitions about Manolo Blahnik and florist Constance Spry were what riled product-designer James Dyson most. Dieting, shoes, and maverick floral arranging are not the specific occupation of all women, but align closely enough with gender stereotypes that their unified castigation seems suspicious. I suppose you could also say it’s a case of function vs. form, or even high vs. low—because certainly it’s unfair to lump dwlz and Manolo Blahnik together simply because high heels and low-fat cuisine make such a happy pairing. As a complicating factor, keep in mind that, in general, ‘fluff’ sells (Design Museum attendance went up 40% under Rawsthorn, and comedy sans serif is still the typographic system most often used on baby shower invites and emails from your Aunt across the nation). Can you trust the wisdom of crowds to indicate design success? Many designers say no; I’m not convinced.
So do we celebrate sites like dwlz as forms of vernacular design? Yeah, OK, dwlz isn’t swanky. But remember, the long lens of history will make contemporary tack seem remarkably palatable in the future, and, who knows, maybe in a few years ironic design hipsters will be aping country-cute and comic sans to hilarious effect.
July 22nd, 2007 at 10:13 pm
I think that designers approach this issue (visual communication) from the standpoint of “correctness”, whereas the average person approaches the issue from the standpoint of “simplicity”.
Because design is, as you say, a form of communication, individuals operate under the rule of “linguistic economy”, which is to say that individuals seek to communicate as economically as possible. An economical design is a simple design. To an individual, simplicity is more valuable than correctness. The cost of “correctness” is too high for most non-designers, and the 80-20 rule assures that this will continue to be the case. For 80% of the cases where graphic design is employed by a non-designer, a simple design suffices. It is only when the “simple” design collapses under it’s own weight that users run for a graphic designer.
All professions (graphic designers included) are the servants, not the masters, of the masses. They exist to facilitate the goals of the masses, and cannot exist in isolation (economically).
(I have borrowed heavily from http://www.jwz.org/doc/worse-is-better.html )
July 25th, 2007 at 9:19 am
Well, I’m with you as far as designers needing to facilitate the goals of the masses, but I’m not sure if I’m on board with ’simplicity’ as a general term to describe how non-designers use graphic design (same goes for ‘linguistic economy’).
It’s true that most individuals seek to communicate effectively, but that doesn’t always translate into an economy of style. Lots of people go for more over less, excess over austerity, grandiosity over simplicity. Sometimes excitement and passion translate into really complicated visual ideas- that still project excitement and passion (just not stunning design).
Possibly I am misunderstanding the use of ’simplicity’ in your example. I’m ready to be convinced.
Katie (sometimes, though not always, ‘admin’)
July 28th, 2007 at 9:06 am
You’re right. I confused the terms. ‘Economy’ is definitely the wrong word to describe how people design. There is typically nothing economical about it. I was ready to convince you, but then I re-read your response and realized you were correct.
Here’s what I first wrote to explain what I meant about ’simplicity’ (by the way, next time I feel compelled to write something so long, I’ll get a blog):
In order to really understand something I think you have to understand its constituent parts. For example if you ever see someone do something “amazing” and their answer to “How did you do that?” is “It just came to me” then they probably don’t know what they’re doing.
Most people only comprehend a few parts of design. They perhaps have an idea of shape, or color or symmetry etc. But the untrained rarely comprehend design holistically. They therefore create unbalanced design. Like children who first learn how to color, they apply crayon broadly, and as you say, with passion or excitement. I think if you examine their design closely you will see that it lacks depth. Which is to say that they have applied what they know to one scale of the design. They thought carefully about the graphic they chose, or how to make the primary element stand out.
But all that was a lot of work, and when it came down to it, for the rest of the design they just picked a font that they liked, or colors that matched. They lack the discipline, or the energy (because it just doesn’t matter to them) to complete the entire work. My argument is that the cost of completing the design “correctly” is too high for most people. I agree that the result may not be clean or minimalist, but it is “simple” in the sense that it is like an unfinished thought.
I think that learned designers have a tendency to complete that thought with their own thoughts. They make something more complex than what was originally intended, and give more credit than is due. I have seen some brilliant ideas from so-called non-designers, but as they lacked follow-through. I’ll finish with a quote (sorry for the lameness : )
“The smaller the focus of attention, the harder the task.”– Sydney J. Harris.
To say something is complicated is to say that there is a interconnection among the many parts. I rarely see non-designers give careful thought to the ‘many’ parts of their design. Nor do I see an attempt to interconnect those parts into a larger design.
Passion attracts us because it is raw. And things excite because they are new. Perhaps it’s the feeling of sharing in the ‘first time’ creative process that makes vernacular design so appealing. As to why some people hate it . . . I guess they’ve got to defend their existence somehow.
Thanks for reading, Kyle.
August 10th, 2007 at 2:07 pm
Hey Kyle- I never wrote back, but I did read your comment and understood your point about simplicity much better. Thanks for clarifying, I hear what you’re saying. K