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CSS Baseline: The Good, The Bad And The Ugly


  

Vertical rhythm is clearly an important part of Web design, yet on the subject of baseline, our community seems divided and there is no consensus as to how it fits in — if at all — with our growing and evolving toolkit for designing online.

This may be due to a lack of understanding and appreciation of the benefits that follow from a baseline grid, but it is more likely because baseline is notoriously difficult to get right, and no one yet holds the blueprint to its successful implementation.

Some even argue baseline is redundant online, as typographic terminology and behavior on the Web follow different rules than those used in print, the frustrating discrepancy between line-height and leading being the most obvious example.

For now, however, let’s assume baseline is, to some degree at least, a useful tool for Web designers. What exactly is it, what tools do we have at our disposal in order to execute it, and, crucially, is it worth the hassle?

Baseline.

Vertical Rhythm And Pattern Recognition

Before tackling the mathematical, potentially pixel-nudging implementation of baseline alignment, it’s a good idea to get an understanding of its parent principle: vertical rhythm. By understanding the why of the baseline, we’ll be better equipped and more motivated to come to grips with the sometimes tedious and obsessive how.

Vertical rhythm, in simplest terms, concerns the structural height and spacing of vertically stacked elements, perhaps most commonly the padding, margins and line height. Just like a horizontal grid achieves harmony by restricting the layout to a set of predefined unit sizes, the vertical rhythm (or grid, if you like) solidifies the structure by offering consistent, predictable measures as the user scrolls down the content.

Grids are not only helpful on the horizontal axis, but also on the vertical axis.
Grids are not only helpful on the horizontal axis, but also on the vertical axis.

Why is vertical rhythm important? Well, it has to do with how our mind works and how we use pattern recognition to decipher the world around us. Without going into the subject at length (other people much smarter than me would be more suited to that task), one can say that pattern recognition allows the human brain to store similar or identical impressions (such as primary shapes or colors) in a pattern library and retrieve them for quick analysis of new stimuli. This is the reason why we don’t look at individual letters when reading, but instead recognize whole words at a time (by pulling previous instances of the same pattern from our memory bank). It’s also the reason why we instantly recognize the letters themselves (“A,” “B,” “C,” etc.), even if the font, size and color vary — the basic shapes are stored in our pattern library.

Now it follows that any stimuli that doesn’t match any of your existing pattern records will prompt a new entry in the memory bank, which, in turn, requires more brain processing power — and that’s where the importance of design structure and grids, whether horizontal or vertical, comes in. Imagine a simple layout with a consistent paragraph spacing of X. Having analyzed the first space, your brain will instantly recognize all other identical spaces as part of the same pattern. If, on the other hand, the same layout uses different spacing between each element, the reader’s brain would have to analyze all individual spaces in order to understand their meaning. In other words: the more different shapes there are for the brain to analyze, the longer it’s going to take.

Irregular shapes (left) require more processing power than regular shapes (right).
Irregular shapes (left) require more processing power than regular shapes (right).

As any irregularity in a structure will break the automatic flow of pattern recognition (thus wasting brain activity that could otherwise have been used on good content), a regular, consistent and predictable structure will, naturally, aid the legibility and cognitive interpretation of your design. Establishing a solid baseline grid is a great method to achieve just that.

Furthermore, utilizing a consistent system in which every vertical (and horizontal) space or element derives from a predetermined unit size not only eliminates arbitrary inconsistencies, but also makes the designer’s job easier by basing structural decisions on an overarching framework. Establishing a standard where, for example, headers always have two baselines of white space below them, and the padding of every box always equals three baselines, adds logic to our layouts and makes them easier not only to design, but also to build and, most importantly, digest.

Now, if vertical rhythm seem like an abstract concept, the second benefit of baseline — horizontal alignment across multiple columns — should be easier to grasp. Most commonly seen in print design, particularly magazines and newspapers that frequently use multi-column layouts, the baseline alignment of adjacent paragraphs (or headers) is delightfully calm when done right, and annoyingly disruptive when implemented badly or not at all. The quiet order arriving from horizontal alignment exhibits a visual confidence, an invisible scaffolding that holds everything in place and reassures the readers at a subconscious level. A book with every line on a left hand page aligning with their counterparts on the right simply feels trustworthy; a book where the lines don’t match up at all somewhat less so.

Horizontal baseline alignment across multiple columns.
Horizontal baseline alignment across multiple columns.

The Trouble With line-height

Traditionally, the baseline is the invisible line upon which most letters “sit,” and the distance between each baseline forms the basis of the baseline grid, which, as we just discussed, aids not only the vertical rhythm but also the horizontal alignment of elements in adjacent columns. Having defined a baseline grid, what follows is the forced alignment of all other elements, ensuring that any line of text, any border, any image or boxed element will always match up and adhere to the same vertical structure.

The trouble is that where tools like InDesign let you do this by clicking a button (literally switching the grid on and off) and allow you to easily resize shapes to fit, when it comes to CSS, there’s no other way to do it than meticulous restriction and monitoring of line height, padding, margin, size — anything that may affect the total height of an object.

The traditional baseline is the line upon which most letters sit and from which the total height of elements should derive.
The traditional baseline is the line upon which most letters sit and from which the total height of elements should derive.

To make matters worse, the CSS line-height property doesn’t have an inherent concept of baseline, and each line of text is placed roughly in the middle of the element’s total height. This means that perfectly aligning the actual base of your text (which is to say the baseline) across different styles and fonts requires further manual, time-consuming tweaking and pixel nudging.

So how does one go about implementing CSS baseline? Well, due to the lack of a native baseline syntax, snap-in-place or browser functionality to force vertical alignment, we’re left to experiment. But let’s start with the basics.

The Good: Basic CSS Baseline

To date, at least as far as I’m aware, no consensus on a right way to do CSS baseline has formed. Some people are happy as long as the line height and spacing follow a set of guiding rules, others are more obsessed and meticulous — for better or for worse — and are not satisfied until every line of text sits beautifully on the baseline, and images, borders, boxes and other elements perfectly align to the same grid. The good news for all of us, however, is that basic CSS baseline really isn’t that hard at all. By making a few design decisions up front (and sticking to them), all it takes is a bit of elementary math.

To define your baseline, it’s a good idea to start with the smallest text size you’ll be using, in most cases your body text, and work upwards from there. In my examples below, I’m using 14 pixel font-size on a 22 pixel line-height, which means 22 pixels is my baseline. This definition has the consequence that all line-heights and the total height (including borders, padding and margin) of all elements must be a multiple of 22 pixels, like so:

h1 { 
	font-size: 40px; 
	line-height: 44px;
	margin-bottom: 22px;
}
p { 
	font-size: 14px; 
	line-height: 22px;
	margin-bottom: 22px; 
}

Now defining our line-height and font-size in pixels is contentious at best, so in the name of scalability let’s convert them both to ems. Doing so makes the code a little harder to scan, but the math is fairly simple — just remember to recalculate the line-height if you change the font-size!

h1 { 
	font-size: 2.5em; /* = 40px/16px */
	line-height: 1.1em; /* = 44px/40px */
	margin-bottom: 22px; 
}
p { 
	font-size: 0.875em; /* 16px is the default em size */
	line-height: 1.5714285714285714em; /* = 22px/14px */
	margin-bottom: 22px; 
}

Note that I will invariably be referring to font-size and line-height in pixels throughout this article, as this will indicate more clearly the “physical” sizes and proportions in the examples given. All code, however, will stick to ems.

Utilizing a visible grid (many people use a background PNG or GIF, others use tools like Baseliner), we can put this to the test and monitor the alignment of all our styles as we go along. At this point, we may find that the lines of text don’t “sit” on the baseline, but rather float in between the gridlines. That’s nothing to worry about at this stage — we can simply offset our background image or add some arbitrary padding to the top of our body to fix it.

A visible grid can be very helpful during the design process.
A visible grid can be very helpful during the design process.

So far so good, but our code is still extremely basic. What happens when we include more pizzazz — for example a top border — to our elements? Naturally, the numbers have to be adjusted to incorporate the height of the border to ensure that the total height of the object adds up to a multiple of the baseline.

h1 { 
	border-top: 3px; 
	padding-top: 22px; 
	margin-bottom: 19px; /* 22px-3px */ 
}

Note how the 3 pixel border-top and the 19 pixel margin-bottom adds up to our baseline of 22 pixels.
Note how the 3 pixel border-top and the 19 pixel margin-bottom adds up to our baseline of 22 pixels.

Using Sass or REM

Although it’s not exactly rocket science, getting the numbers to add up when working on complex websites can be a challenge, especially when using relative units. If you’re in a position to sacrifice the scalability of ems and stick to pixels, however, frameworks like Sass can take a some of the sting out of it. With Sass we can define the baseline as a variable ($baseline, in my example) and use simple equations to define multiples of this, making the whole process a lot simpler and the CSS much easier to scan. Should you want to change your baseline halfway through the process, you only have to do it one place. Although my example below concerns Sass, the same principle would apply when using rems — defining the baseline in one place makes it easier to implement across your code.

$baseline: 22px;

.box { 
	padding-top: 3px; 
	height: $baseline*15; 
}
h1 { 
	font-size: 40px; 
	line-height: $baseline*2; 
	margin-bottom: $baseline; 
}
p { 
	font-size: 16px; 
	line-height: $baseline; 
	margin-bottom: $baseline; 
}

Using JavaScript for Images and Complex Layouts

Applying a baseline to a simple typographic layout is, well, rather simple. But we must also ensure other elements, including images, align to the grid. For containers, buttons, dividers, etc., this is a matter of restricting, by means of CSS, any unit to a multiple of the baseline. Images, on the other hand, rarely adhere to this restriction and are often served at a range of arbitrary heights, and in such cases a little bit of JavaScript can make our lives easier. I won’t go into the detail here, but both the jQuery plugin Baseline.js and this article on vertical rhythm by Matthew Wilcox are worth looking into. If you work on more complex layouts, you might want to check out FtColumnflow — a polyfill that “fixes the inadequacies of CSS column layouts.” It’s extensively used on the Financial Times Web app and may well be of use if you’re looking for something a bit more robust.

And that’s it for the basics. By making sure our line heights, paddings, margins, heights — everything — always add up to a multiple of our baseline, we can rest assured the integrity of our vertical rhythm remains unscathed. Simple, right?

Of course, you wouldn’t be reading this article if there wasn’t more to it…

The Bad: Improvising For Variety

The bad news is this. As much as designers thrive in restricted environments, sometimes a 22 pixel baseline can feel more like a frustrating barrier than a helpful constraint. For example, following the golden ratio, a paragraph body size of 16 pixels infers a paragraph header at around 26 pixels (though the below may apply to anything above 20 pixels, depending on the font). Keeping our baseline of 22 pixels, you may find that a single baseline is too tight a line height for comfortable reading, yet a double baseline (44 pixels) is too wide. Of course, arguably this only becomes a problem if the h2 runs onto two lines, and in theory one could get away with assuming the column width was big enough for that never to happen. Ahem. In theory.

h2 at an awkwardly small or large line-height.
h2 at an awkwardly small or large line-height.

If there was such a thing as snap-in-place, this wouldn’t be an issue, as we could simply choose not to apply our baseline to our h2 and watch in wonder as the the following paragraphs magically slotted back into place. But alas, no such sorcery is currently available and we’re forced to think pragmatically to come up with a solution.

At the start of this article I recommended defining your baseline from the line-height of your smallest text element, like the body text. As we’ve just seen, however, a fixed, minimum unit of 22 pixels (or whatever your body line-height may be) can make for awkward line heights for certain font sizes. But what if we were to halve our original baseline? Our body text would now technically have a line-height of two baselines, but that’s only semantics. In most cases, the resulting possibilities of variation and typographical freedom are worth it. Using the golden ratio to quickly define a few header sizes (rounded up or down to make our ems neater), we can easily see that a comfortable line-height is available at every increment: 16px/22px, 28px/33px, 40px/44px, etc.

h1 { 
	font-size: 2.5em; 
	line-height: 1.1em; 
	margin-bottom: 22px; 
} 
h2 { 
	font-size: 1.625em; /* 26px/16px */ 
	line-height: 1.2692307692307692em; /* 33px/26px */ 
	margin-bottom: 11px; 
}

h1, h2, and p all aligning to the baseline grid.
h1, h2, and p all aligning to the baseline grid.

The Ugly: Offsetting Type

Before I go any further, let me be the first to acknowledge that the following is completely experimental and some of you may even call it bad practice. If you’re willing to humor me, however, keep reading even as it gets ugly. Well, ugly from a “clean code” point of view. From a design point of view, it might get very pretty indeed.

Between the basics and a bit of pragmatic (but optional) improvisation to increase variety, we now have the knowledge and tools to improve the vertical rhythm of most layouts. But the baseline? Not quite. As mentioned before, the way CSS line-height is calculated means the characters are positioned roughly at the vertical center of the line height, rather than sitting neatly on the baseline of it with descenders protruding (like in InDesign or Quark). Many of you will rightly point out that this is what’s supposed to happen. This is how CSS line-height works, and there’s nothing we can do about it. That’s true. But our eyes don’t know CSS semantics. Our eyes are not trained to follow the x-axis center of characters when scanning lines of text — they’re trained to follow the baseline, the bottom of the characters, and when two adjacent lines are misaligned the readability suffers.

Take a look at the following example:

 h1 { 
	font-size: 2.5em; 
	line-height: 1.1em; 
	margin-bottom: 22px; 
} 
h2 { 
	font-size: 1.625em; /* 26px/16px */ 
	line-height: 1.2692307692307692em; /* 33px/26px */ 
	margin-bottom: 11px; 
} 
p { 
	font-size: 0.875em;
	line-height: 1.5714285714285714em; 
	margin-bottom: 11px; 
}
p.intro {
	font-size: 1.125em; /* 18px/16px */
	line-height: 1.22222222em; /* 22px/16px */
	margin-bottom: 22px; 
}

Placed in adjacent columns, even thought the baseline has been applied correctly to the intro paragraph, the base of the letters won’t line up to those of the main paragraph because of the font’s calculated line-height position.

CSS line-height makes alignment across adjacent columns inaccurate.
CSS line-height makes alignment across adjacent columns inaccurate.

Now this is where it gets ugly. In order to accurately align the base of all lines of text across all columns (which, of course, is one of the main points of having a baseline grid to start with), we have to offset the type manually. A simple way to do this is to add padding-top until the characters rest on the baseline and adjust the margin-bottom to reflect the offset.

h1 { 
	font-size: 2.5em; 
	line-height: 1.1em; 
	padding-top: Xpx; /* This requires trial and error, as X depends on your font and line-height */ 
	margin-bottom: 22px-Xpx; 
} 
h2 { 
	font-size: 1.625em; /* 26px/16px */ 
	line-height: 1.2692307692307692em; /* 33px/26px */ 
	padding-top: Xpx;
	margin-bottom: 11px-Xpx; 
} 
p {
	font-size: 0.875em; 
	line-height: 1.5714285714285714em;
	padding-top: Xpx; 
	margin-bottom: 11px-Xpx; 
} 
p.intro {
	font-size: 1.125em; /* 18px */
	line-height: 1.22222222em; /* 22px */
	padding-top: Xpx; 
	margin-bottom: 11px-Xpx; 
}

Messy? Perhaps. Tedious? Indeed. But very gratifying and wonderful at the same time. There’s nothing quite like turning on the baseline overlay on a complex layout to reveal the magic that is perfectly aligned typography.

All elements align across multiple columns.
All elements align across multiple columns.

Phew. If you’re still with me you’re probably either a masochist or have an unhealthy obsession with detail — either way I congratulate you, as your baseline is no doubt as solid as a brick outhouse.

Is It Worth It?

So there we have it. Basic CSS baseline is relatively easy and requires no more than a little math and organization to improve your layout. At the other end of the scale, we can manually adjust padding and margins to mimic the more sophisticated baseline of print design, a notion that will no doubt bring scowls to the faces of CSS purists. The real question, of course, is whether the visual benefits from manually offsetting type are worth it. In some cases, for example design-led campaigns and microsites, it could well be.

In others, particularly larger, more complex websites (your project managers will be scratching their heads wondering why it takes you so long to build the initial template) or collaborative projects with several developers working on the same code, well, it probably isn’t. Let’s face it — what we’re talking about in the most extreme examples not only adds manual labor, but also makes the code more intricate and harder to maintain. It will even affect the load time of your website if applied on a large enough project.

But consider this: just a few years ago, less-than-favorable techniques like “sliding doors” were advocated by industry leaders to hack attributes that CSS3 has now made commonplace. Were rounded corners really worth using two divs instead of one? Well, obviously, to some people they were — yet others may have considered them a waste of time, resulting in bad practice and semantically flawed code. But the point to take away is this: if no one experimented with such labor- and code-intensive techniques, we probably wouldn’t have native syntax for this technique today.

Experimentation, bad practice, hacks, ugly code — whatever we call it — has pushed, and continues to push, our syntax forward, reinventing the tools we will use to create and publish the next generation of online content. To echo Mark Boulton, “How cool would it be for CSS to be able to give you pain-free baseline grid?” Whatever your level of obsessiveness — whether your characters sit neatly upon their baselines or float in between them — vertical rhythm is always an important consideration, and following any of the approaches outlined in this article should result in a satisfactory baseline grid.

There will, of course, still be cases where the restrictions feel too impeding, and sometimes elements like captions, navigation or list items don’t seem to sit right in your predefined structure. In those cases, it’s worth remembering that a few compromises are not the end of the world. Some designers, including the eminent Khoi Vinh, argue that baseline is most important in the context of the main body of your content, and peripheral elements may break the baseline without breaking the layout.

Hopefully the understanding that there’s no right or wrong way of approaching baseline will incite further experimentation on your part, and I encourage anyone with a typographical affection to contribute to the ongoing process of making vertical rhythm an equal priority to horizontal grids in the future of Web design.

Good luck!

Resources

(cp)


© Espen Brunborg for Smashing Magazine, 2012.


Symptoms Of An Epidemic: Web Design Trends


  

Since Elliot Jay Stocks so poignantly told us to destroy the Web 2.0 look, we’ve witnessed a de-shinification of the Web, with fewer glass buttons, beveled edges, reflections, special-offer badges, vulgar gradients with vibrant colors and diagonal background patterns. The transformation has been welcomed with relief by all but the most hardened gloss-enthusiasts. However, design and aesthetics work in mysterious ways, and no sooner does one Web design trend leave us before another appears.

The Symptoms

So, exactly what is this new epidemic? Well, let’s start by looking at some of the most common symptoms, many of which you have probably noticed. They are easy to spot, and as with many other conditions, they often appear in conjunction with each other. (This is why the contagion spreads so effectively — seemingly independent symptoms grow more infectious when combined with others.)

Please note: The following list appears in no particular order and does not indicate the level of infectiousness or severity, which seem to be stable across the board. Note also that the instances given often exhibit more than one symptom, making classification more difficult.

Stitching

Stitching appears gradually, often as a result of the designer playing too long with borders and lines, particularly of the dotted variety. A full-blown stitch is evidenced by the subtle shift from dots to dashes, augmented by drop shadows and other effects to give the impression of 3-D. The purpose of the stitch is somewhat elusive, but it seems to thrive in environments where certain textures are applied, most notably fabric and leather, but also generic graininess.

While determining the exact cause of stitching is difficult, scientists are certain that it belongs to a larger strain of the infection known as “Skeuomorphism.�

Collage of interfaces with stiches
Clockwise from top: The Journal of Min Tran; Dribbble shot by Mason Yarnell; Dribbble shot by Liam McCabe.

Zigzag Borders

Borders are common elements of Web design, and as such, they are difficult to avoid; luckily, they are usually harmless and often have a positive effect on the layout. However, for some reason, a particular type of border — the zigzag — has grown exponentially in the last few years and is now threatening the natural habitat of more benign border specimens. Exactly why this is happening is unknown, although some researchers claim that the pattern created by the repeating opposing diagonals has such an alluring effect on designers and clients alike that straight borders have somewhat lost their appeal.

Collage of interfaces with zigzag borders
Clockwise from top: You Know Who; Dribbble shot by Christopher Paul; Dribbble shot by Meagan Fisher.

Forked Ribbons

Like borders, ribbons have long existed in various forms. What we’re seeing now, though, is the near dominance of a particular style of ribbon, easily identified by a fork at one or both ends. Some ribbons are also folded over twice, creating a faux effect of depth and reinforcing the diagonal lines in the fork. Whether the fork is related to the zigzag effect is unknown, but it seems that diagonal lines are the key to the ribbon’s survival, along with its ability to evoke memories of times past.

The danger of the ribbon lies mainly in its ability to exist independent of other symptoms (although it thrives in the company of vintage typography), meaning that it could date your design long after the epidemic ends, even if the symptom itself appears dormant. In many ways, this is reminiscent of the “special offers� badge of the Web 2.0 look.

Collage of interfaces using forked ribbons
Clockwise from top: Ryan O’Rourke; Cabedge; Jake Przespo

Textures

In the age of all things digital, it’s a conundrum that textures should dominate our illustrations and backgrounds, and yet they are indeed one of the most common symptoms on our list. Manifested by subtle grain, dirt and scratches, paper-esque surfaces and fold marks, they seem to embrace the spirit of the handmade. But ironically, they’re often the complete opposite: computer-generated effects or Photoshop brushes.

Possible explanations for the widespread use of textures include a yearning for tactile media (especially considering the emergence of touchscreens) or envy towards print designers, who have a much richer palette of materials and surfaces to play with.

Collage of interfaces with textures
Clockwise from top: Gerren Lamson; Zero; Amazee Labs.

Letterpress

A Smashing Magazine article from 2009 outlined letterpress as one of the emerging trends of the year and, boy, were they right. The simple effect has gone from strength to strength and is now a household technique for sprucing up typography online. A relatively harmless symptom, letterpress might also have infected designers through other digital interfaces, such as operating systems and games, as early as the turn of the millennium, indicating a very long incubation period.

Scientists disagree over whether the incubation period is due to the infection needing a critical mass before emerging from dormancy or whether the infection simply needed the right conditions — CSS3 text shadows, to be specific — for symptoms to appear.

Collage of interfaces with letterpress
Clockwise from top: Billy Tamplin; Dribbble shot by Phillip Marriot; Remix.

19th-Century Illustration

After being released from copyright quarantine, this symptom, favoured by fashionable ladies and gentlemen, was nearly eliminated during the last epidemic due to its inability to cope well with gloss and shine. But in this new vintage-friendly environment, it has found its way back into our visual repertoire. For better or worse, the 19th-century illustration will most likely hang around for a while, emerging stronger from time to time like a flu virus.

Collage of interfaces with 19th century illustrations
Clockwise from top: Killian Muster; Dribbble shot by Trent Walton; Simon Collison.

Muted Tones

After a long period of vibrancy, the average online color scheme seems to have been somewhat desaturated across the board. We’re seeing widespread use of browns, earthy greens and mustards and a general leaning towards “impure� colors, although this is generally thought to be a minor symptom of the epidemic. Some scientists will even argue that muted tones are, in fact, not a symptom themselves but rather a side effect of other symptoms, in the way that sweating is a natural response to a fever.

Collage of interfaces with muted colours
Clockwise from top: Dribble shot by Dave Ruiz; Cognition; Web Standards Sherpa.

Justified or Centered Typography (JCT)

This symptom is nothing new; in fact, it was pretty much the standard for the first 500 years of typography, until Tschichold and the New Typography showed up and quarantined it on the grounds that it was old fashioned, difficult to read and inefficient. Although we’re not sure at this point, this link with history might be what has made JCT reappear so vigorously under the umbrella of vintage symptoms. We do know that overall reading habits among humans have not changed in recent years (most Westerners still read left to right), and there is no plausible argument that JCT improves legibility; so, whatever the cause of the outbreak, we know it’s rooted in subjective emotion rather than rational thought.

Collage of interfaces with justified or centered typography
Clockwise from top: Grip Limited; Tommy; Visual Republic.

Circular Script Logotypes (SCL)

A circle is a basic shape and, in isolation, is no more a symptom of an epidemic than a triangle. However, if you repeat enough triangles in a line, you get a zigzag. Similarly, if you include a circle in your logotype, you end up with a circular logotype. And if that logotype happens to be set in a script font, you’ll get — that’s right! — a Circular Script Logotype (SCL). Not that SCL is lethal or anything, but it is relatively contagious and can be highly detrimental when enough hosts have been infected.

Collage of circular script logos
Clockwise from top: Trent Walton; Mercy; Dribbble shot by James Seymor-Lock.

Skeuomorphic Features

Skeuomorphic features — i.e. ornamentation or design features on an object that are copied from the object’s form in another medium — are rife, particularly in mobile applications, and this symptom is one of the defining indicators of the epidemic. Possibly a mutant cancerous strain of mildly skeuomorphic features such as stitches and letterpress, it can sometimes grow to overtake an entire interface, bloating it with redundant visual references to physical objects and materials. However, due to the labor involved in preparing the graphics and the heavy reliance on image resources, some researchers argue that we’re unlikely to see full-blown skeuomorphism dominate our desktop browsers any time soon.

In fact, most scientists regard the phenomenon as a curiosity and predict that some virtual metaphors for physical attributes will prove useful (as tabs have) and some won’t. Interestingly, while Apple has embraced and continues to pioneer the technique, Google seems to some degree to resist the urge to mimic physical reality in its interfaces. Perhaps it has developed a vaccine?

Collage of skeuomorphic interface elements
Clockwise from top: iBooks; Dribbble shot by skorky; Dribbble shot by Igor Shkarin.

How Did It Start?

Pinpointing the epicentre of a design epidemic (read: trend) is always hard, especially given the myriad of symptoms and the contagious nature of the Internet. Identifying Patient Zero is virtually impossible, and, to be pragmatic, doing so would serve no purpose. What we can say is that we’re most likely experiencing a reaction to the Web 2.0 aesthetic — a craving for textured surfaces and retro imagery, something tactile and natural-looking, as an antidote to the shiny impersonality of the past — and that this is both healthy and necessary for pushing the design industry forward. Whatever the sources of trends, they often start with applying smart design to solve a particular problem or, indeed, to counter another trend.

Let’s say that everyone used sans-serif fonts, strong contrasting colors and crisp white backgrounds as a rule. Imagine, in this environment, if a designer went against the grain by using Clarendon or some other warm serif to infuse some personality into their website (which happens to be selling “Grandma’s homemade jam�), and then complemented the personality of their font selection with earthy colors and some brown paper textures. The result would inevitably stand out from the crowd: beautiful, emotional, different.

Incidentally, this aesthetic inspires another designer who happens to be working on a website with a global audience, exposing the new approach to a whole generation of designers who, in turn, apply it at will (often without considering the context). A trend is born. And yet, paradoxically, the potency of the epidemic is under constant threat. The more people get infected, the less differentiated the symptoms appear; and once the infection reaches a critical mass, the symptoms begin to work against themselves. Infusing personality into your visuals is meaningless if everything looks the same.

Is It Dangerous?

In today’s open collaborative world, avoiding an epidemic of this scale is difficult; so, in a sense, everyone is affected to some degree. The symptoms listed above are not restricted to small-scale up-and-coming designers, but affect even the elite of the design community. This means that even though some symptoms are harmless — like a light fever or a runny nose from a flu infection — the viral onslaught of trendy features puts constant pressure on our immune system to protect our creativity, and staying vigilant is important to maintaining a healthy dose of original thought.

If you’re displaying a handful of symptoms, it’s really nothing to worry about — catching a cold that’s going around is not hard, but recovering from it is also easy. If, on the other hand, you display most or all of these symptoms, then there’s reason to be extra cautious in your next project. Using all of a trend’s identifiers as cornerstones of your work might make your portfolio look oh so contemporary, but in a way this practice is no different than passing off the work of your favorite designer, artist or musician as your own. Granted, symptoms with no identifiable origin are not protected by copyright, but that’s beside the point — you should be worried not about legal implications, but rather about the creative integrity of your output. The danger is not only that your work will be seen as a passing fad, a popular aesthetic that will look dated in a couple of years’ time, but that you will lose the respect of your peers when they catch on to you.

While nothing is original, we all need to respect the difference between inspiration and imitation. As Jean Luc Goddard said, “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.â€� And if you don’t take them anywhere, what’s the point?

Worse perhaps than the loss of respect and integrity is the effect that epidemics have on clients and, in turn, the design community as a whole. The more designers are infected and the more symptoms they show of the same disease, the less your clients will believe that you’re capable of solving real business problems. Eventually they’ll exclude you from the early stages (where all the real design thinking takes place) and employ your services merely to skin their wireframes, in the process reducing the whole profession to an army of decorators.

What Can You Do About It?

Now that we’ve seen how detrimental trends can be, how does one avoid them? Is this even possible? Trends, by definition, are popular, and arguably nothing is wrong with tapping into that popularity to increase the exposure of your product. Convincing a client to accept a design that is off-trend can be difficult, and you run the risk of alienating the audience by going completely against the trend just for the sake of it. On the other hand, blindly following others is never a good idea, and you could severely stifle your creativity, integrity and client base by accepting what’s “in� as a given and copying it without purpose.

So, what’s the right thing to do? Trends are intrinsic to our society, whether in politics, culture, design or even religion, and as the consensus sways in one direction or another, so will your opinion (or “tasteâ€�) — to some degree, at least. Alas, avoiding trends altogether seems an impossible and pointless undertaking, but that doesn’t leave you powerless. In fact, you can do a host of things to combat the lemming syndrome.

Ask Why

Always question your design decisions (and make sure they are your own), and keep asking the magic question, Why am I doing this? Am I doing this simply because it looks cool or because it suits the message I’m trying to communicate? Why am I using this ribbon? Does the zigzag border add to or detract from the personality of the website? What does this leather texture have to do with the finance app I’m designing? The moment you stop asking questions, you fall prey to the epidemic.

Put Some Effort In

In his article “The Dying Art of Designâ€� Francisco Inchauste asserts, among other things, that inspiration requires perspiration, and I couldn’t agree more. I was lucky enough to attend a college where no computers were allowed in the first year, which meant we had to use physical tools to express ourselves — tracing letters by hand, drawing our photography, stocking up on Pantone pens (remember those?), abusing the copier. Not only did our creativity grow, but we learned an important lesson: good design is not effortless, and the best results come from your own experimentation.

Try Something Different

Remember that being distinctive is, for the most part, a good thing. Most great artists in history, regardless of their field, stood out enough for the world to take notice. Who painted melting clocks before Dali? Who would have thought to build a huge wall on stage before Pink Floyd? While mimicking what’s popular might be comfortable and might secure short-term victories, long-term success requires a unique, memorable approach.

Diversify Your Inspiration

In order to remain creative, staying curious and looking for inspiration all around you is crucial, not just in the latest showcase of fashionable WordPress themes. Read a book, perform a scientific experiment, listen to music you haven’t heard before, walk through a new neighborhood, or experience a foreign culture. Widening your horizons beyond your favorite websites and finding more than one source of inspiration is critical to making original, lasting designs.

Focus on the Basics

Finally and most importantly, study the underlying principles of design in order to understand what is and isn’t defined by style. Grid systems, contrast, legibility, juxtaposing imagery, well-written copy — these are the key components of successful design, yet they are entirely independent of fads and styles.

At the end of the day, design is not so much about style as it is about communication, and all style, imagery and typography should be inspired by the content, functionality and personality of the product, not by what simply looks cool at the moment.

No matter how cool something looks, it too shall pass.

(al) (fi)


© Espen Brunborg for Smashing Magazine, 2012.


Respect Thy Typography


  

Good typography shouldn’t have to rely on ornamental crutches to stand tall. Yet despite all the tools and knowledge available to us, we readily embrace a flourishing, decorative typography, with cheap tricks used in a misguided attempt to make it “pop�. This ancient art may rapidly be gaining popularity, but are we paying it the respect it deserves?

Take a snapshot of the visual culture that surrounds you—magazines, movie posters, packaging, websites—how much of it relies on typography? How much of the typography around you is actually well considered? Chances are you’ll find a handful of beautifully crafted typographical designs competing with an avalanche of visually “richâ€�, image-heavy creations. Typography is then relegated to the role of “necessary evilâ€� in order to display text, or ill-considered typographic pieces, where the meaning of MS WordArt has been interpreted a smidgen too literally… Why?

Looking Back

It’s fair to say that the global webdesign community is experiencing a typographical renaissance. Revolutionary technologies like Typekit, Fontdeck, the introduction of the @font-face tag, and online licensing for professional typefaces are all encouraging type enthusiasts around the Web to transcend the shackles of common type. Furthermore, clever use of CSS and JavaScript are allowing us to mimic a range of typesetting techniques (though admittedly some basic typographical controls are still frustratingly infantile).

But with such power comes great responsibility. And even though modern tools give us the opportunity to do so many things, doing a great deal of these things isn’t always a recipe for beautiful design. Just because we have many options opening up to us doesn’t mean we need to employ every single one of them in the hope of developing a design that stands out—and most likely for all the wrong reasons.

That’s not to say typographic design can’t be ornamental, complex or even illustrative. But centuries of working with movable type has left us with principles on which to base our typography, and it’s our duty as designers to understand them (at least if we’re aiming to break them). A good place to start is to look at what those who came before us have done—even the briefest throwback into the annals of typography and design history will help.

Consider Milton Glaser’s “I love New York� logo from 1977, commissioned as part of a marketing campaign by the New York State Department of Commerce. Glaser, who did the work pro-bono, wisely avoided skylines, figures of people holding hands, or flowery ornaments by using only a simple heart shape to represent the key word of the mark: love. We all know the subsequent success of the logo, as it has been brandished on millions of white t-shirts, inspiring countless knock-offs since its inception.

And if the heart-symbol of Glaser’s work seems too pictorial in this context, how about Robert Indiana’s “Love� sculpture? Originally created for a Museum of Modern Art Christmas card in 1964, this iconic piece of type shuns imagery altogether, relying only on the power of letterforms (arguably based on Clarendon) to ignite our compassion.

I love New York logo and LOVE sculpture
Lovely examples of modern typographic icons.

Glaser's updated version of I love New York more than ever
Milton Glaser’s post-9/11 update of his own masterpiece.

Of course, this kind of admiration for type didn’t just start with 60’s advertising. Typography is a craft going back thousands of years—to the birth of writing, if you wished to go deep enough—and has evolved and developed a great deal since that time. Theories have been postulated and developed as to how to best communicate through letterforms, especially when an idea needs to be transmitted as easily as possible. As Bringhurst explains while introducing the first chapter of his timeless “The Elements of Typographic Style”: Typography exists to honor content.

Beatrice Warde’s well known essay “The Crystal Goblet” beautifully explains the role of the typographer and his or her type, and she reinforced this point during an address given in 1930 to the British Typographers Guild in London. Advocating the idea that type was not there to be admired, or even noticed, that it existed only with the purpose of communicating an idea, she proclaimed; “I have a book at home of which I have no visual recollection whatever as far as its typography goes; when I think of it, all I see is the Three Musketeers and their comrades swaggering up and down the streets of Paris.â€� I wonder how many us have the same consideration for content when we browse through MyFonts or Typekit in search of the perfect typeface.

One of the many great designers who echoed Warde’s ethos was Jan Tschichold. His most well-known work is found in the legacy he created during his time working for Penguin (1947-1949), refining and redesigning the former book covers and creating the rulebook for the Penguin covers that followed him.


Notice the absence of decorative elements in this series of Penguin covers by Tschichold.

Looking at these covers one will see that the focus is unequivocally on the communication of a book’s title and author, and the result is truly magnificent. The covers are not beautiful because of particular ornaments or images, or even the individual shapes of the letters, but for their clarity of message. It’s not by accident that a clarity of (and focus on) typography has stuck with Penguin until the present day, which is beautifully demonstrated by David Pearson’s designs for the “Great Ideas” series from 2004, 2005 and 2008.

Two book typographic book covers by Pearson
Though the style may be different, the focus on typography still embodies the spirit of Tschichold.

Challenging The Rules

The approach advocated by modernist typographers is one of clarity and legibility. Scientific methods (let’s call it early “A/B testing”) were utilized in the quest to find the perfect typeface—not in terms of aesthetic, but rather efficiency for communicating—and rigid systems were developed to achieve ideal reading conditions. In the strictest sense, typographic beauty is not to be gained from the letters or ornaments themselves, but should come as a natural result from an “invisible” type that unselfishly honors the words and content.

However, movements of any kind invariably inspire counter-movements, and the modernist ethos was to be thoroughly challenged towards the end of the last century, most notably by David Carson (b. 1954), Peter Saville (b. 1955) and Neville Brody (b. 1957). While earlier designers sought to communicate the messages they were setting as clearly and cleanly as possible, these young contenders wished to push the boundaries of legibility and normality, so that the emotion and idea wasn’t delivered via what the words represented, but how the words were seen as objects separated from their meaning.

These three designers were to shape the face of contemporary typography with their groundbreaking work spanning magazines, newspapers, film titles (Carson and Brody) and record sleeves (Saville). They helped pioneer experimental typesetting in the 80′s and 90s’, throwing the modernist rulebook out the window, yet retaining the communicative authority for letters and words.

Nowadays it’s easy to argue that their use of type did indeed include a great deal of flourish and extras. But seen in the context of the post-modern era, it’s clear that this was not simply an attempt to “beautifyâ€� their work. On the contrary, the disrespect for clarity and to embrace “grunge” were design statements opposing the impersonal coldness of the modernist designers… they were adding emotion to the words they were communicating, which also reflected the cultural movement of the time.

Jan Tschichold might have turned in his grave at brash expressions such as these, but the power of typography seemed stronger than ever. Their work showed that there is an infinite number of ways that typography can be used to communicate a message.

Various designs from Saville, Carson and Brody
Clockwise from top left: Saville’s cover for Hard-Fi: Once Upon a Time in the West, Carson’s High Priority spread for NY magazine, Nike ad by Neville Brody.

The conscious tenet arising from such examples is an appreciation, by the designer, of how typography can be emotionally valuable. Each of the above examples evoke something—whether heartfelt, or slightly adrenalin pumping, it can be concluded that this is often the role of illustrative typography: to move the heart, and not just yell at the mind.

From Movable Type To Type That Moves

Regardless of the word count, the typographic experience can be as emotional as any pictorial masterpiece. This notion is beautifully exemplified by the “Coming Togetherâ€� campaign for FontAid by The Society of Typographic Aficionados (SOTA) in support of relief efforts following the 2010 disaster in Haiti. The project—a font consisting of hundreds of ampersands designed by contemporary typographers—showed that despite the common saying that “a picture speaks a thousand wordsâ€�, sometimes all you need is a handful of letters… or indeed, just a single character.

Typeface consisting of ampersands only
The “Coming Together” typeface shows us the power of a single character.

Other, less sentimental examples of moving (literal as well as metaphorical) type are masterfully displayed on the blog of Trent Walton, a true magician in terms of utilizing modern technologies to add depth to his typography. When spelling out the title Workspace, a particularly illustrative typographic treatment conjures up images of your very own—or perhaps your dad’s very own—workspace, complete with holes in the wall for hanging up indispensable tools (“I really needed that magnetic stud finderâ€�).

In another example, Unitasking, the “Iâ€� in the headline doubles as an illuminated “1â€� when it is interacted with, emphasizing the message of the article. Granted, neither example can be described as “pure” typography. But note how the extensive use of technology with typographic tricks can be used to illustrate the message, infusing it with added emotion, rather than for decorative purposes.

Typographic treatment of the word "workspace" with each letter hanging from a nail
Movable, interactive typography with nostalgic undertones.

The word unitasking spelled out twice with the i being illuminated in the second version
Laborious use of CSS trickery adds value to the message.

Stefan Sagmeister is another designer (actually, another legend) fascinated by the concept of emotional typography and how design can touch our fellow human beings, and he’s unafraid to use unconventional means of communication. For a 1999 AIGA lecture poster he literally carved all the copy into his own body using a razor blade (well, his studio mate did the carving) before photographing himself, the result being so disturbingly powerful that it’s difficult to look away.

But it’s not all gore, of course. As part of his “Things I have learnedâ€� series he created a type-only billboard for Experimenta Lisbon, spelling out his message in capital letters: “Complaining is silly. Either act or forgetâ€�. Simple enough, right? Not quite. Using no ink what so ever, Sagmeister and his team created a gigantic stencil and exposed huge sheets of newsprint to the scorching sun over a period of weeks.

The letters (covered by the stencil) would remain white as the newsprint yellowed, and by the time the billboard went up the statement was easily read by onlookers. The subsequent effect was, as you may have deduced by now, that the letters would slowly fade away as the previously non-exposed newsprint would yellow to the same color as the background. Thus the message to “act or forget� was emotionally strengthened with every passing day.

Stefan Sagmeister's naked torso with letters carved into it
Sometimes typography can be effective without trying to be beautiful.

Poster reading "Complaining is silly. Either act or forget."
Using the sun’s ultraviolet rays to slowly fade away the message.

At this point we’ve come a long way from the clear, simple typography of Tschichold. I’m sure many of you are questioning whether the latter examples, in comparison, rely too much on visual tricks to get their messages across. Indeed, I opened this article by challenging the over-use of ornaments and decoration in order to enhance our typography, and yet aren’t Walton’s and Sagmeister’s work examples of just that? Not quite.

Despite heavy use of non-typographic elements, there are no unnecessary flourishes to be found, nor are there any signs of unrelated decoration (though, to be pedantic, Walton’s use of surface textures may be superfluous). In truth, both designers are adding value by choosing techniques and expressions that purposefully match the content and create an emotional frame in which to deliver the message, thus highlighting it’s impact.

Contemporary experimentalists like Walton and Sagmeister might contradict traditional typographic principles, yet they play an important role in the global, ongoing design conversation by constantly discovering new and unconventional means for typographic expression.

Spread The Word. Literally.

In all honesty, type is not just movable, it has the power to move—and it’s up to us to carry this legacy forward and into the digital frontier, that is inevitably our future. By learning from past examples of excellence, we can challenge the status quo of mediocre typography and misplaced stock photography, and start to push things forward. We don’t always need to do too much (well written copy is, after all, your very best friend), and we certainly don’t have to use all the tools in our drawer every time.

But we can continuously look for new ways to add value, as long as we make sure our typography doesn’t communicate anything other than the intended message. Sometimes that means heavy use of CSS, making creative use of sunshine, or experimenting with size and position. Other times—perhaps most times—it means keeping things simple, letting the words do the talking and letting the typography work itself gently into the background.

Remember, despite the plethora of typographical tools we now have at our immediate disposal, we’re the latest chapter of a long history of typographic craftsmanship—typographers painstakingly arranged letters by hand for centuries before the computer (or even phototypesetting) came along. We should honor the hard work that has been put in by those who came before us. We can do this by recognizing typography as an essential part of our work (be it for Web or print), learn about the principles (especially if you’re aiming to break them) and consider all the factors that make for great communication through letterforms.

If right now you are thinking “but my boss will never let me do what Sagmeister does!”—don’t sweat it, most projects don’t allow for typographic experimentation. But that doesn’t mean you can’t hone your skills—there’s plenty to be gained from taking pride in the small things, and making sure you get the details right. If your brief dictates uninspiring imagery, put your effort and pride into perfecting the accompanying typography. Is the line-length appropriate? What about font-size, line-height, and hierarchical contrast? Does the typeface echo the sentiments of the message? Maybe if you get all the small things right, the bigger things will come easier once that suitable project comes your way.

So roll up those sleeves, consider the meaning of the words you’re setting, and pay some respect to the centuries of evolution behind the typeface you’re using today, and just as importantly, the craft of typography as a means of expression. By all means use images, but just remember that you don’t always have to—typography can be just as meaningful by itself, even without the alluring magic of word-art.

(jvb) (il)

A Thank You to our fabulous Typography editor, Alexander Charchar, for preparing this article.


© Espen Brunborg for Smashing Magazine, 2012.


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