The longer I work at the store, the more I'm in love with good design. Besides visual design, the design of a workplace includes its considered response to other people--the flow of bodies and communication as well as of goods.
Have I mentioned that my workplace's lack of thoughtful design drives me crazy?
I have?
Well, here's another example.
Yesterday we got a private message on FB from an older shopper about how unsafe our Covid response is.
The message had several good ideas for fixes--some of them easy.
My workmates--including the bosses--responded as if the message was an annoyance from a kook, instead of taking it as a call to action.
Ass't Man is the only one at work who thinks about design. He also thinks in grand terms.
Too grand, sometimes--he can be perfectionistic.
I pointed out that we were lucky the customer wrote a private message and didn't blast us in a Google Review.
"We should cover our ass," I said.
"Yeah, but," he said––[I pointed out once that he often says this, and he got mad at me]––"until we hire a designer to make signs, that's not going to happen. You know they won't spend money on it."
For fuck's sake.
The upside of the lack of management oversight is, if you want to do something, you can just do it (pretty much).
I went into the office and printed some already-in-existence "Keep 6 FT Apart" signs--something the customer had specifically pointed out the lack of.
I put them up where you enter (below, left & right) and around the store.
I got tape and marked more Xs and added " < 6 FT > " for clarity.
Look! People will stand on Xs! It's so sweet. It's like kindergarten, in the best sense.
I replied to the FB message with photos and thanks.
The writer replied, "I am smiling under my mask."
Cost to the store? $25 of my time.
Value in damage control: priceless
Good design doesn't have to be tidy, but I do love this VEG-O-MATIC box, from 1961:
BELOW: Entropy reveals natural design--and human design flaws. "GIFTS" wall and rubble: aftermath of the arson and destruction post-police murder of George Floyd.
I bike past it on my way home from the store.
BOOK(s) NOW . . . Oh, yeah!
Aaaand... BELOW: today's disqualifying statement on the profile of someone who messaged me on the Dating Site:
Have I mentioned that my workplace's lack of thoughtful design drives me crazy?
I have?
Well, here's another example.
Yesterday we got a private message on FB from an older shopper about how unsafe our Covid response is.
The message had several good ideas for fixes--some of them easy.
My workmates--including the bosses--responded as if the message was an annoyance from a kook, instead of taking it as a call to action.
Ass't Man is the only one at work who thinks about design. He also thinks in grand terms.
Too grand, sometimes--he can be perfectionistic.
I pointed out that we were lucky the customer wrote a private message and didn't blast us in a Google Review.
"We should cover our ass," I said.
"Yeah, but," he said––[I pointed out once that he often says this, and he got mad at me]––"until we hire a designer to make signs, that's not going to happen. You know they won't spend money on it."
For fuck's sake.
The upside of the lack of management oversight is, if you want to do something, you can just do it (pretty much).
I went into the office and printed some already-in-existence "Keep 6 FT Apart" signs--something the customer had specifically pointed out the lack of.
I put them up where you enter (below, left & right) and around the store.
I got tape and marked more Xs and added " < 6 FT > " for clarity.
Look! People will stand on Xs! It's so sweet. It's like kindergarten, in the best sense.
I replied to the FB message with photos and thanks.
The writer replied, "I am smiling under my mask."
Cost to the store? $25 of my time.
Value in damage control: priceless
❧ ❧ ❧
Good design doesn't have to be tidy, but I do love this VEG-O-MATIC box, from 1961:
BELOW: Entropy reveals natural design--and human design flaws. "GIFTS" wall and rubble: aftermath of the arson and destruction post-police murder of George Floyd.
I bike past it on my way home from the store.
BOOK(s) NOW . . . Oh, yeah!
Aaaand... BELOW: today's disqualifying statement on the profile of someone who messaged me on the Dating Site:
