Phillip Retuta's Blog

The Life and Times of a Filipino-American

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The Art Of Advertising.

DrZizmorEach time I go to work, I’m bombarded with advertisements along my subway commute: posters and marquees about technical colleges, campaigns for new phone apps and websites, and the occasional breast enlargement ad.

I can’t help but notice the design and art direction of each ad. More often than not, the typography isn’t as tight as it should be: the kerning between letters are inconsistent, especially around the more common letters with space issues like “S”, “O”, and the combination of “A” and “Y”. This isn’t so much of a typographical problem for the corporate ads who can pay for quality designers, but rather everyone else. It just seems there isn’t as much careful attention to detail to the type. In my head, these type of companies just hired a recent liberal arts graduate to design their ads… or worst yet, an intern with an inattentive art director.

Now don’t get me started on stock photos and photos in general. It seems that every local ad just goes to iStock and download whatever image best suits them, and it shows: happy looking students who appear too beautiful to go to that school, travel photos that look too goddamed generic, and way too miserable-looking drug abusers on substance abuse ads. I’ve learned from design school and my various jobs that stock photography and footage is the troublesome, double-edged sword in the creative world: sometimes it’s a necessary evil when a designer runs out of options, but it’s best to use your own images or hire a professional photographer to take the photos you want.

Lastly, I notice the messaging and copy: more often than not, these ads are trying to be clever and edgy but most of them can’t seem to find the right humor. In the end, it’s a clusterfuck of incomprehensible satire. On the other hand, sometimes there’s too much copy on ad, and as a subway rider, you usually don’t have the goddamn time to read a fucking paragraph. My advice is to keep the message short, simple, and absolutely concise. Riding on the train now, I’m looking at three ads whose headlines end with questions (“is this a job or purpose?” and “Have you found the you in you?”). Not only are these pretty dumb rhetorical questions, but they’re followed by a massive amount of tiny-sized text.

Well that’s my rant on design of commuter ads. Get your shit together, New York.

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Coming Soon: Phillip & Nico.

PhillipAndNicoBlogSo I decided to open up an Etsy Shop (official launch in July). It will feature both handmade pet accessories and home goods; I figured that I should utilize my design skills, my desire to make tangible stuff, and my love of my dog into a singular hobby that I can share with the world at an oh-most-affordable price. Initially, I’m going to make dog bandanas and collars using fabric I find pretty cool and fashionable — essentially chic (in my eyes) patterns that have a young, New York or Los Angeles sensibility. Hell, after my freelance design stint at Macy’s fashion department, I’m trying to reestablish myself as someone “who works in the fashion industry” — albeit for dogs. Eventually, I want to transition into home accessories, like glassware and pillows, but with a sardonic “I’m a graphic designer” or “I’m in the creative tech industry” sense of humor.

So, sewing is pretty fucking easy:

I learned to sew with a simple needle and thread at a very early age, thanks to my mom. Between her earliest job as a work-from-home medical transcriber and a stay-at-home mother, she would mend clothes and sew in her free time. At age 4 or so, I watched her repair a shirt or pair of pants, and it was then that she taught me to sew by hand.

In 6th grade, my classmates and I took a home economics class as part of a rotating curriculum of lifestyle courses (art, shop, and computers were also included). It was there in home ec that I learned how to properly use a sewing machine. I remember our first project was to create a standard, square-shaped throw pillow, and I recall that my teacher Mrs. Schwartz applauded at such a fine looking pillow (for what it’s worth). I think I even kept that pillow throughout high school.

The pillow was a constant reminder to press the sewing machine pedal and stitch forward then backward to create a secure closure (a back-stitch).

I think with my most basic knowledge of operating a sewing machine, my aesthetic as a print and web designer, and my fascination with social media trends, I can probably profit a few bucks. Wish me luck.

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Sorry Mom, I Got A Fox Tattoo.

FoxTattooAs it is with every year around my birthday, I get a new tattoo. This time, I got another fox tattoo at Electric Anvil Tattoo. Not only do I really like these dog-like creatures, but I’ve been told that my spirit animal is a fox. Here’s what I’ve found online:

The symbolic meanings associated with the fox are:

-Physical or mental responsiveness, increased awareness

-Cunning; seeing through deception; call to be discerning

-Ability to find your way around, to be swift in tricky sitations

-Affinity with nocturnal activities and dream work

Whether or not such a generalized description of me is bullshit (I took an internet quiz before, and it said my spirit animal is a stupid butterfly), foxes are fascinating creatures. My other tattoo that contains a fox is from the Aesop Fable of “The Fox and the Crow” (I also like crows):

A Fox once saw a Crow fly off with a piece of cheese in its beak and settle on a branch of a tree.

“That’s for me, as I am a Fox,” said Master Reynard, and he walked up to the foot of the tree.

“Good day, Mistress Crow,” he cried. “How well you are looking today: how glossy your feathers; how bright your eye. I feel sure your voice must surpass that of other birds, just as your figure does; let me hear but one song from you that I may greet you as the Queen of Birds.”

The Crow lifted up her head and began to caw her best, but the moment she opened her mouth the piece of cheese fell to the ground, only to be snapped up by Master Fox.

“That will do,” said he. “That was all I wanted. In exchange for your cheese I will give you a piece of advice for the future: “Do not trust flatterers.”