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Archive for May 2010
Wordcake Cards
When friend and food blogger Jen Stevenson of Under the Table wanted to start her own writing business, she came to me asking advice about collateral. She had chosen Wordcake Communications as her business name and needed a logo, business cards and a simple website to get the business going. “I was thinking I could have a big cake, with the word Wordcake on it!” she said, giving me creative rein with a theme. I replied with a somewhat muffled “Let’s see what we can do with that…”, and got to work.
Riffing on the idea of frosting, I found this typography sample in an ornaments and borders book and transformed it into Wordcake.
Before
After
The idea of a sophisticated take on a “cake on a platter” appealed to me since Jen is the epitome of a hostess with the mostess, even when she is stuffing your gullet with stinky cheeses and sweet confections. However, Jen wasn’t rolling in dough from creative writing (yet), so an economic solution was needed that would still help her stand out. I scoured the internet for an oval punch that could take the place of a diecut. Turns out, crafters have thought of almost everything, so after a bit of sleuthing I found several oval punches, perfect for the miniature platter shape that her business cards would become.
The cards were printed digitally and then hand punched by Jen in about an hour, after which she claimed she’d sprained her thumb. I told her she would have to toughen up, because once The Onion started calling and she had to churn out snarky story upon snarky story in record time, her thumb would have no reprieve.
Punch, punch.
Punch, punch, punch.
Many punches later.
Little paper hors d'oeuvres.
Wordcake Communications : Jen Stevenson : Pen for Hire
Ziba: A Not-So-Sordid Exposé
For the past six weeks I’ve been contracting on-site at Ziba, a multi-disciplinary firm here in Portland. Six weeks is as good as marriage in the freelance world, so I took full advantage of their awesome new HQ building and learning from the plethora of interesting people who work there.
We're not in Kansas anymore, Lucy.
The project I was put on was very interesting, but unfortunately mum is the word. In fact, here is a recreation of the confidentiality agreement I signed.
Keep reading »
Noilly Prat and Isabel Branco
You might have seen the vintage liqueur bottles my neighbors brought me a while back; here are a few more that didn’t seem to fit in with the first batch.
Noilly Prat and Isabel Branco: two mean mofos in the miniature alcohol bottle world.
Noilly Prat and Isabel Branco seem like the alcohol version of Bonnie and Clyde in comparison to the Crema Liqueur series. If they met in dark alley, I have no doubt Noilly would off the Sabor de Platano without a second thought. Upon further scrutiny it turns out Noilly Prat is a French company that uses floofy flourishes all over their website. I’m guessing that means the “t” in Prat is silent, which negates most of the badass connotations. That ALSO means that Noilly PraT (emphasis on the “T) is up for grabs (just like the URL www.discountbordello.com).
Therefore, let it be known that I claim Noilly Prat as a pen name for times when I need go undercover to tell tales like Turkey: 1, Mormon Boyfriend: 0. Like all legendary duos, Noilly needs a comrade, so I am hereby seeking an Isabel Blanco to be my partner in crime. The position is currently undefined (I’m imagining we can have cheese eating contests, watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer: the Musical, and see what a turtle on roller skates can accomplish if they set their mind to it) and will stay open until filled.
Noilly Prat, quick draw, seeks partner in crime.
Be my Isabel Branco.
What Not to Wear?
Not every day can be a fashion hole-in-one; I thought it was OK to tuck my teal sweatpants into my cowboy boots until I was fourteen. Admittedly, middle school was not kind to me. Luckily those days have passed, but traces of my oblivious self still remain, and made a reappearance when I emerged Sunday morning in my special Sunday outfit.
Within 0.3 seconds my husband bleated in dismay. I think his exact words were “No, no, no…no, nooooooo!” He bullied, he cajoled, he pleaded with me to change into something more norm-pleasing. But I was adamant. My beloved puff paint souvenir t-shirt from my 4th grade birthday party was not going to be shoved to the bottom of the drawer. Nobody puts baby in the corner!
Drawing this outfit in pen and ink just wouldn’t do it justice, so I went the extra mile to give you this graphic representation of my technicolor fashion clash.
I rode Portland's Sunday Parkways in this outfit. I estimate about 750 people saw me. At least.
Toasters VS Bananas
The Povey Building (where I work) is filled with creative folk. Sometimes that leads to tangential exchanges that aren’t even understood by the people taking part. I-kid-you-not correspondence in its entirety transpired as follows. Get me my paymaster, I’m putting this on the tab.
My New Old Paymaster
Trolling the thrift stores on Hawthorne can be a laborious way to spend an afternoon, but every once in a while you find something that you just can’t leave behind. That is how I came home one day with a Paymaster (original price: $278.50, my price: $40). So far I’ve only punched a few fake invoices with the highest number possible, but in the future I’d like to learn more about the “repeat” lever and what happens if you disregard the WARNING: BEWARE OF UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL label on the front.
Behold my Paymaster!
Dollars and cents, dollars and cents.
Last Friday, in Food
I tend to metabolize quickly, to the point that I consider it a defining feature of myself. As far back as I can remember, much of my waking time is spent thinking about food. Having a Danish mother reinforced the importance of food; being raised in a culture that reveres Julefrokost isn’t quite sane, or so I’ve been told. Which might explain my actions last Friday, in which I consumed enough food for a bus full of teenage boys.
I admit, it wasn’t the first time I’d overdone it in the food department. One time my uncle Henrik asked my sister and I what we wanted for dinner, and we simultaneously yelled “fried octopus rings” and “stuffed turkey”. So he made both, and threw in some bacon-wrapped pork chops for good measure, because he’s nice like that. After our menagerie of meats and their appropriate side dishes, we feasted on a solid marzipan cake until my aunt brought out a liter of ice cream, plopped it in front of me and declared “If you don’t eat it, it will melt!”. You can’t argue with that logic.
So, yes, I tend to eat a lot. If I had traversed the Oregon Trail I would have been the first left behind, huddled next to a barrel of flour and a sack of jerky. Put in perspective, last Friday’s trail of foraging doesn’t really compare to my previous gluttonous episodes, but seeing as I was out of eating shape, it sure made my gut question my mind. Would I do it again? No questions asked. Now, I think it’s time for some pie.
Vintage Liqueur Bottles
My neighbors were recently cleaning out their basement and found these cool vintage liqueur bottles (if you want to be fancy, say it with a French accent). Since they know I like to collect things, they gave them to me (score!). Since I also like to share things, here are a few photos:
“Rid of Me” Trailer Site
A while back I helped James Westby, director of Film Geek and The Auteur, put together a trailer site for his new film. Check it out at www.ridofmemovie.com. (Update: looks like the site has since been revised by Bitclone).
