One of the first things you learn as a graphic designer, and you learn it quickly, is that the only satisfaction you're ever going to get out of any particular job is on the first round, in the first pass. It's the only time the work will ever reflect your vision and design skill. You get the client brief, you give it careful thought and deliberation, you choose a tasteful palette, sophisticated typography, eye-catching photos (cropped just so) and combine it all in a clever and elegant composition. And then you send it off to the client.
And then they fuck it up.
It usually starts by making "it" bigger. It doesn't really matter what "it" is, it just needs to be bigger. They're paying for all the real estate and they want every last millimeter filled with something.
Then it's usually the color...
"I want it to look like 'Facebook', but not blue..... I hate blue... I really like pink... like a pink 'Facebook'..."
Or they want you to match the colors of a couch.
It then usually spirals downhill from there. If you're lucky you may end up with something that vaguely resembles your original design, something you wouldn't be too embarrassed to show in your portfolio. More often than not, you just cash the check and move on. Life is too short.
But now, thanks to the magic of modern technology, the clients have the ability to fuck it up WHILE THEY'RE ON THE MOVE!
Smart phones! What would we ever have done without them?
Earlier this week I emailed a client a poster design. She's already pretty much signed off on it, with a few minor tweaks. A few moments after I sent it, I got this email...
"I'm finding it really hard to read. The type seems way too small. I don't remember it being this illegible when I saw it in my office."
Hmmm. "Where are you now?" I asked.
"Starbucks."
Well, I think we may have found the problem. You're looking at a three foot tall poster on a fucking 3 inch phone.
Another client called, sounding angry...
"Why did you change the background color to green!?!?!?"
I hadn't. It was still blue.
"I tell you, I'm looking at it right now, and it's green!"
It wasn't. He was just looking at it on his phone.
In his car.
On the 405.
Wearing amber tinted sunglasses.
But as much fun as that all is, nothing compares to the pure joy of receiving angry emails and texts, typed on a touchscreen by clients too lazy to look at what they're writing, filtered through the magic of iPhone Autocorrect.
This is what I received last night from one of my more high maintenance clients...
"net net lay go clot precious fed think thirsty am asa"
You'll be surprised to learn I haven't a fucking clue what that means. What is it...Klingon?
I emailed back for clarification, but never received a response and went to bed.
And then this morning I just had my ass handed to me for not fulfilling his wishes. Somehow, I was supposed to decipher...
"need new layout for client presentation first thing Thursday AM. ASAP"
I swear to God I wish we could just go back to rotary phones.
