Clip Art = Agony

Ask anyone who’s ever worked for me about my biggest design peeve and they’ll probably say “double spacing after a period.” Close, but they’d be wrong.

The truth is, I hate clip art.

One of my favorite stories (and I’m probably going to be killed by my former colleague for this) involves a complex, but rather dry presentation on process improvement. My colleague had all her ideas laid out and was looking to make her presentation more engaging by adding some visual interest.

Somewhere, somehow, she discovered a cache of line drawings of clowns. Dozens of them. Cute clowns, funny clowns, clowns with balloons. Every slide had its own, distinctive clown.

Setting aside the subtext the illustrations gave to the presentation, the quality of the illustrations was part of my problem. They were simple line art drawings with a cartoonish four-color scheme. Just hideous.

I suppose that in the spirit of full disclosure I should admit to a life-long hatred of clowns, so this particular use of clip art was made infinitely worse by the subject matter. But I truly don’t believe that my odd prejudice against clowns mitigates the situation.

The trouble with clip art is that most of it is so common that it’s difficult to find illustrations that aren’t hackneyed, and is usually tacked on at the end to “spice up” the design and is therefore not organic to the piece. It doesn’t thoughtfully and purposefully contribute to the design goals.

On the other hand it’s inexpensive—free in many cases—and easy to use, and can be used as a design element when enough time is invested in selecting, sizing, and integrating the artwork into the design.

But if you want to do one thing to improve the look of your publications: don’t use clip art. And don’t double space after a period. And don’t use Microsoft Word as a page layout program. And…

e-Rant

I may be unfairly picking on some really smart, creative people here, but there’s one thing that a lot of practitioners are doing that just drives me up the wall.

A while back I was working with someone who I consider to be nothing short of brilliant, the kind of guy who makes three paradigm-busting breakthroughs before breakfast each morning.

Then I got the e-mail.

He couldn’t wait for our next meeting, he had to tell me right away that he had come up with the perfect name for our latest online product.

“How about ‘Cit-e Update’?”

Okay. Deep, cleansing breath.

My prejudice: anything with “e-” or “i-” is automatically obvious, out-dated, trite, and hokey. It’s not even quaint anymore, it’s just plain bad.

Of course, some exceptions prove the rule, but usually because of a legacy, such as Apple’s iPod, iPhone, iMac, iWhatever. But hey, they’re Apple. The IRS has e-File and you know, it works.

Everybody else should steer clear.

It’s an understandable reflex—communicate quickly that your new offering is online. Establish that you’re reaching out in new ways and the latest technologies. Differentiate the new service from your offline offerings.

Only, it’s…blech.

Better to come up with a great name and then make sure people know it’s online. Better still a name that lets you know it’s an electronic version without the dreaded “e-.”