Category: Graphic Design

I road-tested 1950s graphic design. Here’s how it actually plays.

I’m Kayla, and I make things for a living. Last month, I went full mid-century for my client work. Think bold shapes. Snappy type. A little grit. I didn’t just scroll mood boards. I used real tools, dug through real books, and printed real pieces that had to work in the wild. (I logged the whole process in this day-by-day road-test diary if you want the unfiltered version.)

You know what? The style still sings. But it’s not magic. It’s craft, with a few quirks.

What I used (on my actual desk)

  • RetroSupply Co. DupliTone halftone brushes (Photoshop and Procreate)
  • True Grit Texture Supply Grain Shader
  • Futura PT, Trade Gothic, Clarendon, and Brush Script (for short bits)
  • “Thoughts on Design” by Paul Rand; “Saul Bass: A Life in Film & Design”
  • A two-color Risograph run at our local print lab
  • Pantone chips: a tomato red, a dusty teal, and a mustard

I also kept a small stack of old stuff nearby: a 1957 Coca-Cola ad tear-out, a Herman Miller catalog reprint, and an Olivetti poster print. They kept me honest.

For anyone who wants ready-to-use mid-century assets without scouring thrift stores, the curated bundles at Moon & Back Graphics drop straight into your artboards and keep the vibe authentic.

Real project #1: A diner menu that had to sell pancakes

A pop-up brunch asked for a menu that felt like a roadside diner. My brief said, “Fun, fast, read it in line.”

  • Layout: Big blocks with asymmetry. A hero starburst for the “Short Stack.”
  • Type: Futura for the parts that must read fast. Brush Script for little treats like “house-made syrup.”
  • Color: Two plates—tomato red and teal—to keep costs down and the look clean.
  • Texture: Light halftone shading on the borders. Not too gritty. Just a whisper.

The first print looked muddy. Why? I pushed the halftone too dark. I pulled it back, bumped the teal, and let the white paper breathe. After that, folks ordered quicker. The owner said the starburst moved pancakes. That’s the point, right?

Real project #2: A film club poster, Bass-style, but mine

The group screened Hitchcock. I did a poster nodding to Saul Bass without copying.

  • Built cut-paper shapes by hand, then scanned them. Sharp edges. No glow.
  • Orange and black, plus a small off-white tooth for contrast.
  • Trade Gothic Condensed for the title. Tight, tall, a little nervous.

On the wall, it popped. A teen asked if it was new or old. That’s the sweet spot for me. The only snag? The club’s long sponsor line looked cramped, so I set it in Clarendon to hold weight without yelling.

Real project #3: Coffee labels for “Rocket Fuel”

A small roaster wanted a short run label with space-age vibes.

  • Icon: Little atom, simple lines, no fuss.
  • Shapes: Boomerang panels with soft corners.
  • Color: Mustard with black. Cheap to print. Looks warm on kraft stock.

I tried Brush Script for “Rocket,” but the spacing looked odd on “ck.” I fixed it with manual kerning and a tiny baseline shift. Still, I kept it small. Brush Script is like hot sauce—nice in small hits.

What works from the 50s look (and still pays the bills)

  • Two-color power: It forces clear choices. The eye knows where to go.
  • Big, flat shapes: They read from across the room. (A nod to the International Typographic Style approach.)
  • Halftone texture: Adds mood without shouting.
  • White space: Let the air do part of the job.
  • Iconic thinking: One smart symbol beats ten busy photos.

What bugged me a bit

  • Tiny body text breaks fast in these fonts. Keep the small print simple.
  • Brush Script needs love. Some letter pairs fight you.
  • More than three colors? Print cost jumps, and off-register passes can show. That can look cool, but not for every client.
  • Starbursts are tasty. Too many, and you have a fireworks stand. I used one per piece, tops.

Little cultural nods that help

I kept the mood in mind: post-war hope, space dreams, cars with fins, kitchen clocks that look like suns. I glanced at Paul Rand’s IBM work for restraint. I peeked at Giovanni Pintori’s Olivetti posters for smart geometry. (I fell hard for the clean modernist angle—here’s how that approach actually works for me.) I smiled at Cipe Pineles layouts for play and pace. These aren’t just pretty pieces. They teach you where to push—and where to stop.

Want to try this look? Here’s my short starter kit

  • Pick two colors. Add one accent if you must.
  • Use Futura or Trade Gothic for the core. Bring in Brush Script for little side notes only.
  • Add light grit with DupliTone or Grain Shader. Keep it subtle.
  • Build one strong icon. An atom, a fork, a star, an arrow. Big and clear.
  • Tilt something. A box, a headline, a shape. A small tilt adds life.
  • Leave room. Don’t cram every corner.

Where it shines (and where it doesn’t)

  • Great for: cafes, barbers, thrift shops, breweries, film nights, gift packaging, event flyers.
  • Tough for: legal sheets, medical forms, dense reports, anything that needs lots of tiny type.

One surprise niche? Online personals. The old classified vibe—simple starbursts, bold type, two colors—maps perfectly onto short-form dating ads that need to pop in a scroll. If you want to see the kind of quick-hit messages that could be punched up with a retro layout, drop by JustBang’s casual encounters page where adults post no-strings-attached meet-up ads; browsing it shows exactly how concise headlines and eye-catching design spur faster connections. Likewise, local swinger communities often rely on straightforward, memorable visuals to promote meet-ups; the event board for Lodi swingers illustrates how a lean color scheme, bold type, and punchy copy can spark quick interest and offers plenty of layout ideas you can borrow for your own retro-flavored flyers.

Want something louder? I recently cranked the dial with a glowing palette and wrote about the results in my hands-on neon nostalgia take.

My take, plain and simple

1950s graphic design still works because it respects the reader. It grabs you, then gets out of the way. When I used it, my pieces read faster and felt warm. A few parts took extra care—type spacing, print passes—but the look gave my clients a clear voice.

Would I keep this in my kit? Yes. Four and a half stars out of five. I’ll keep using it for packaging and posters. Maybe not for a tax form, but you knew that.

If you try it, start small. One menu. One poster. See how folks react. And if someone smiles and says, “Hey, that reminds me of my grandma’s kitchen clock,” you’ve nailed it.

I Tried the Botanica Graphic Design Trend. Here’s What Actually Worked.

I’m Kayla, and I spent the last year using the botanica trend in real projects. Leaves, herbs, petals—yeah, I put plants on menus, bottles, emails, and even a bus stop ad. Some of it sang. Some of it fought me the whole way. I also documented the play-by-play over on Moon & Back Graphics in this extended case study.

You know what? It surprised me how much mood a single leaf can hold.

So… what is “Botanica,” really?

It’s plant-forward design. Think soft greens, vintage herb drawings, pressed leaf textures, and calm type. Sometimes it’s wild and tropical. Sometimes it looks like an old field guide your grandma kept in a drawer.

If you want to zoom out and see where this nature-first aesthetic is heading, the Back to Basics: Organic Graphic Design Trends guide breaks down how realistic flora illustrations, bold-yet-muted palettes, and organic shapes are reshaping mainstream branding.

I used:

  • Adobe Illustrator for vector leaves
  • Procreate on an iPad for hand-drawn herbs
  • Figma for layouts and quick mockups
  • Pantone swatches for print (more on that below)

Small note: it’s not just “stick a monstera and call it a day.” That’s the lazy version.

Real work I did with it

1) A farm café rebrand (menus, to-go bags, window decals)

The café was a neighborhood spot with fresh bread and herb butter. I drew rosemary and thyme in Procreate (Dry Ink brush), then cleaned lines in Illustrator. We stamped the art on kraft menus and used a soft moss green as the main color.

  • Paper: Neenah Environment, Desert Storm cover
  • Ink: Pantone 7734 C (moss), Warm Gray 2 C
  • Type: Cormorant for headers, Neue Haas Grotesk for body

The rosemary sprigs looked warm and honest on kraft. One hiccup: the leaf veins were too thin at first. The print shop warned me they could fill in. I thickened the strokes to 0.5 pt. Saved the job.

2) A small-batch soap label (lavender, oatmeal, mint)

This client sold at farmers’ markets. We tried a vintage engraving style, like old seed packets. I pulled a lavender illustration, then traced and simplified it. The label felt calm and clean.

  • Substrate: White matte BOPP label (waterproof)
  • Color: CMYK + a spot purple near Pantone 2665 C
  • Font: Playfair Display with a tiny mint icon

It sold fast. Folks picked it up because it looked “pure,” their word, not mine. But we hit a snag with contrast. Pale sage text on white failed. I switched to charcoal. Better for eyes, better for phones.

3) A yoga studio spring campaign (email + posters)

We used magnolia petals and a soft gradient. Light, airy, almost a whisper. Pretty in print, but on email? Too faint. On older phones the petals washed out. I added a stronger outline and bumped contrast. Still soft, still gentle, just clearer.

4) A seasonal coffee bag for a roaster

We went bold, like a collage—coffee plant, cherries, big palm leaves. It looked fun until we tried a risograph poster version in green + fluorescent pink. The overlap made a muddy brown patch. Not cute. We switched to teal + yellow, with more spacing. Punchy and clean. That chase for high-energy color balance echoed what I explored in my hands-on dive into Neon Nostalgia—only this time wrapped in foliage instead of vaporwave grids.

5) A “plant care” zine for a local shop

This was the most hands-on. I scanned real leaves. Pressed them in a heavy cookbook first (seriously), then scanned at 600 dpi. The textures were delicious. But the files were huge. I had to compress and also mask uneven edges. Worth it. The zine felt like a field trip.

Places I looked for real-world cues

  • Seedlip’s bottle art: lush and detailed botanical collages
  • Aesop’s store vibe: apothecary tone, simple type, plant notes
  • L’Occitane gift sets: lavender and almond illustrations
  • New York Botanical Garden posters: classic line drawings that still feel fresh

I didn’t copy them. I watched how they balanced detail with space. Less fuss, more feel.

What sings with Botanica

  • It feels honest. Plants say “clean,” “fresh,” “real.” Great for food, beauty, and wellness.
  • It layers well. Line art plus light textures give depth without shouting.
  • It fits seasons. Spring gets soft buds; fall gets twigs and seed pods. Winter loves pine. Summer can go lush and tropical.

For a deeper dive into turning minimalist floral silhouettes and tropical leaf patterns into a cohesive brand system, the Botanica Graphic Design Trend: Bringing Nature into Visual Identity breakdown is a quick, inspiration-packed read.

What bugged me

  • Overused leaves. Monstera overload is real. People tune it out.
  • Faint greens. Pretty but risky. Low contrast hurts readability.
  • Print traps. Thin veins can fill in. Printers will warn you. Listen.
  • Licensing. Random “free” leaves online? Often not really free. I’ve paid for art I thought was clear. Lesson learned.

If you’d rather dodge the licensing roulette, grab vetted, royalty-free botanical sets from Moon & Back Graphics — their clear usage terms have saved me headaches.

Tiny choices that made a big difference

  • Color: Sage and moss do a lot of lifting. I like Pantone 7743 C for a deeper green and add a warm gray so it doesn’t feel cold.
  • Ink on kraft: Black can look harsh. A deep green or warm gray hugs the paper better.
  • Texture: A little paper grain beats a heavy noise layer. Keep it light.
  • Type pairing: One serif with a plain sans. Calm. Let the leaves lead.

A quick digression on culture and care

Some plants carry meaning. White sage is sacred to many Native communities. The lotus is sacred across Asia. I skip turning those into cute clip art unless the client has a clear, respectful reason. Good design should care about people too. Not just pretty leaves.

My simple checklist (I use it every time)

  • Can you read it fast, even on a phone?
  • Do the leaves match the brand story?
  • Are stroke weights thick enough for print?
  • Is the green warm enough to feel human?
  • Did you test in grayscale? (Yes, really.)
  • Are the illustrations licensed or your own?

Fun tools and small hacks

  • Procreate Dry Ink + Tinder Box brushes for hand feel
  • Illustrator’s Image Trace, but only as a start—then fix by hand
  • Figma for layout tests with clients in the same file
  • Paper picks: Neenah Environment, or Mohawk Keaykolour Matcha for a soft green base
  • Stickers: die-cut herbs from Sticker Mule make cute freebies

So, is the trend worth it?

Yes—when it serves the story. If your brand is fresh, mindful, or rooted in nature, botanica can sing. If your brand is high-speed tech, maybe not. Unless you want a calm sub-line, like packaging for a “focus” tea or a wellness perk.

But what if your client sits on the other end of the spectrum—say, a sex-positive dating startup where the vibe is direct, playful, and definitely after-dark? In that scenario you’ll need an identity system that ditches soft fern silhouettes for bold color hits and conversational copy. To understand the audience mindset before you even open Illustrator, skim through the real-world user insights in this guide on how to get a fuckbuddy fast using MeetNFuck. It unpacks what motivates casual-dating users and the language they respond to—gold when you’re crafting visuals and messaging that actually resonate.

For an additional glimpse into how upscale, open-minded couples frame their nightlife experiences—and the visual cues that speak to them—explore the member-only event galleries and etiquette tips on the Yorkville Swingers scene where you’ll pick up real-world signals about color, tone, and typography that feel equal parts luxurious and liberated.

When a project calls for the opposite—sharp grids, strict hierarchy, no ornament—I lean on lessons from my experiment with Modernist graphic design. It’s a good counterweight to all the leafy looseness.

I love how it feels both new and old. A leaf sketch today still whispers like one from a century ago. That’s rare.

Final take

The botanica trend worked for me in food, beauty, and wellness projects. It boosted sales for the soap brand. It lifted the café vibe. It got people to stop and look at

Mac Graphic Design Apps I Actually Use on My Mac

I’m Kayla. I design on a 14-inch MacBook Pro (M2) running Sonoma, with a 27-inch LG display. I keep a basic Wacom tablet on my desk and a pile of sticky notes. I work fast, and I print a lot. That matters here.

You know what? I’ve tried a bunch of apps on Mac. (I even broke down my current toolkit in detail on the blog.) Some are fast and friendly. Some are heavy, but powerful. I’ll tell you what I used them for, what worked, and what made me sigh.

My quick setup (because it shapes everything)

  • MacBook Pro (M2), 16 GB RAM
  • macOS Sonoma
  • External LG monitor (27-inch)
  • Wacom Intuos S for tracing and masks
  • AirDrop for moving photos from my phone
  • A color printer that never behaves

Now the apps.

Before I dive in, I’ll mention that when I need premade vectors—think florals for wedding invites—I pop over to Moon and Back Graphics; their files slot into Illustrator, Affinity, or Canva with zero fuss.

Adobe Illustrator: My logo and print workhorse

I made a logo for a local coffee cart called Bean Beacon. I sketched the lighthouse by hand, then traced it in Illustrator with the Pen Tool. I used Pathfinder to merge shapes, then tweaked kerning (the space between letters) so the name didn’t feel crowded. I sent the final as an SVG for their Cricut cutter and a CMYK PDF with 0.125-inch bleeds for stickers. The print came out clean. Sharp edges. No weird halos.

When I design menus or packaging, I still build in Illustrator. I like the Guides, the Align panel, and the way it handles spot colors. The Image Trace tool helped me turn a doodle into a vector in under a minute. Not perfect, but close enough, and I fixed the rough bits with Smooth.

The downside? It’s big. On a long day with many artboards, my fans spin. The subscription adds up too. But many print shops still ask for .ai or PDF from Illustrator, and honestly, it saves time. So I keep it.

Affinity Designer 2: Fast, clean, and a one-time buy

I made a farmers market poster in Affinity Designer last fall (I’m on Affinity Designer 2 these days, and it feels even snappier.). Big peaches, bold type, and a curved title. I used the Text on a Path tool for the curve and the Assets panel to reuse small icons. The Persona switch (Designer/Pixel) let me add a quick texture without leaving the app. It felt snappy on the M2, even with big images.

I exported a PDF/X-4 with crop marks, and the printer liked it. Colors matched well since I set the profile to CMYK early. Pro tip: expand strokes before you send it, just in case.

One catch: some clients still send .ai files and want them back the same way. It sometimes makes me nostalgic for the days of older CS versions—I went back to that vintage software and wrote about how it felt. Affinity opens most things fine, but not every live effect stays live. I work around it with SVG or PDF. For my own work, I’m happy with it. It’s fast. It’s tidy.

Adobe Photoshop: Product photos and mockups

For a small Etsy shop, I shot candles on a white board by my window. In Photoshop, I used Select Subject to grab the candle, then the Refine Edge brush around the wick and glass. I placed the jar into a label mockup as a Smart Object. I ran a very light Camera Raw filter to even out the warmth. Batch export made 12 web-ready JPGs in one go.

It handles tricky stuff, like dust on a bottle, with the Spot Healing Brush. The newer Remove tool cleaned a stray string on a sweater shot in one stroke. I still build layered PSD mockups for clients who want color swaps. It’s heavy, yes. It eats RAM, yes. But for pixel work, masks, and retouching, it’s still the thing.

Pixelmator Pro: Quick edits that look good

Pixelmator Pro is my “I have 10 minutes” app. The ML Enhance tool brightens photos without that crunchy look. I used it to clean a dark photo of maple donuts for a bakery post. Then I used Remove Background and Export for Web to get a clean PNG for Instagram Stories. Done.

It feels very Mac. It saves fast. It also plays nice with Apple’s Shortcuts. I set a shortcut to auto-resize three social sizes from one file. It’s not a full print tool, but for posters, flyers, and online images, it’s solid. And it’s affordable.

Sketch: UI work and tidy vectors

When I helped a friend mock up a simple recipe app, I used Sketch. I made a small design system with Symbols, and exported iOS assets at 1x, 2x, and 3x. It kept everything neat. I also used it to build an app icon set and a clean one-page pitch with grids and text styles.

Would I make a print poster in Sketch? Not really. It’s made for screens. But for design that needs strict spacing and repeat parts, it’s smooth. And it feels faster than most big tools.

Figma (desktop on Mac): Team work in real time

For a nonprofit site refresh, we used Figma with the Mac app. I set up Auto Layout for cards, used Components, and invited their team to comment. We moved things around during a Zoom call, and they saw changes live. That saved us rounds of email.

When I needed a fast social badge, I still reached for other tools. Figma shines for UI, style guides, and shared work. For print, I export SVG or PDF and finish in Illustrator or Affinity.

Side note: every now and then I design marketing assets for brands that operate in more adult niches. When I was exploring bold, conversion-driven landing-page patterns, I spent a few minutes studying this free hookup portal—it’s packed with uncluttered sections, high-contrast buttons, and straight-to-the-point copy that can spark ideas for any high-impact page you’re tackling. Another quick reference: when I wanted to see how community-driven adult events position their calls-to-action, I browsed the local scene at this Pomona swingers page—its event-centric layout, candid imagery, and streamlined sign-up flow are a useful study in turning curiosity into confident conversions.

Linearity Curve (formerly Vectornator): Tracing and hand-drawn flair

I traced a hand-drawn map for a wedding program with Linearity Curve. I used Auto Trace on the scan, then cleaned anchors with the Node Tool. I like drawing on my iPad with Apple Pencil, then finishing on my Mac. The app makes that hand-made line feel natural.

It’s fun and friendly. But with many artboards and lots of tiny details, I’ve had slowdowns. So I keep complex jobs in Illustrator or Affinity.

Canva (Mac app): Fast flyers for folks who don’t design

For a PTA bingo night, I built the flyer in Canva in 15 minutes. I used their grid, dropped in school colors, and exported a PNG for email. The resize tool helped me make a square version for Facebook.

For real print work though, color can shift. Canva stays in RGB, so the poster looked a bit dull when the office printer got it. If it’s for social or a quick community event, it’s great. If it’s a paid print job, I choose Illustrator or Affinity.

How I mix them in real life

  • Sketch on paper or iPad.
  • Vector build in Illustrator or Affinity Designer.
  • Photo clean-up in Photoshop or Pixelmator Pro.
  • Layout check, bleeds set, export PDF with crops.
  • For teams, wireframe in Figma, then finish in print-friendly software.

Small note: I name files like 2025-03_beacon_menu_v05_print.pdf. Future me thanks me.

Little things that saved me

  • Set color early. If it’s going to print, pick CMYK at the start.
  • Add bleeds. I use 0.125 inches. It stops weird white edges.
  • Outline fonts for print. Or package files with fonts.
  • Keep a “links” folder for images. Don’t break paths.
  • Test print on a cheap printer before you pay the big shop.

If you want more bite-size wisdom from around the web, I gathered the best graphic design blog posts I keep going back to—they’ve saved me on many tight deadlines.

So, which one should you use?

You hate subscriptions and want pro vector: Affinity Designer 2.
You need industry-standard print and shop files: Adobe Illustrator.

I Tried Gutters Graphic Design For A Real Small Biz. Here’s What Worked

I’m Kayla. I live in a rainy place, so gutters matter a lot. This spring, I helped my neighbor Luis refresh his gutter company’s look. New logo. Yard signs. Truck wrap. Facebook ads. Even a one-page site. I used Canva Pro, Adobe Illustrator, and a Fiverr pro designer. I printed with Vistaprint and FASTSIGNS. I got wet, I got picky, and yes—I learned a few things the hard way.

Let me explain.

The Plan (and the rain)

We needed stuff that people could see fast:

  • Logo you can read from a truck.
  • Yard signs for corners.
  • Door hangers.
  • Facebook header and a simple ad set.
  • A clean landing page with a big phone number.

If yard signs are on your list too, you’ll pick up even more practical pointers in 12 Tips for Yard Sign Marketing for Small Businesses.

I also wanted the design to feel steady. Dry. Honest. We went with navy, leaf green, and white. Real simple.

  • Colors we used: Navy #0D2A45, Green #33AA55, White #FFFFFF
  • Fonts we used: Montserrat Bold for “Gutters,” Source Sans Pro for small text

I tweaked kerning (letter spacing) so “TT” in “Gutters” didn’t look weird. A tiny -20 in Illustrator. It matters.

First Try: Canva Pro Templates (Fast, but fussy)

I mocked up five logos in about an hour. That speed felt great. The drag-and-drop was smooth. For yard signs, the “Home Repair” template gave me a head start. I could swap icons, drop in the phone number, and test colors easy. If you want a quick crash course on shaping a solid logo before you dive in, hit play on How to Make a Logo for Your Small Business with NO Experience | Create Logo Tutorial for Beginners; it breaks the basics down in 15 minutes.

But. The stock droplet icons looked, well, stock. On small prints, details got mushy. The blue printed dull because the file was RGB, and the print shop needed CMYK. The PNG exports were soft at big sizes. I had to rebuild the final logo as vector (SVG/EPS) in Illustrator, with bleed (extra edge space) for clean cuts. Not hard, but it added time. If you’ve ever wondered exactly how bleed works (and how to fix it when you mess up), I unpack the whole saga in what bleed means in graphic design.

Oh, and the layout gutters (the space between columns) were tight on the flyer. I added about a quarter inch. The words could breathe again. Big difference. For the nuts-and-bolts version of that process, check out this full gutter-graphics case study.

Then I Hired a Real Designer (Worth it)

I found a Fiverr Pro designer who works with trades. Let’s call her Maya. Her package took a week. It cost $650. She sent:

  • A logo suite (full logo, stacked logo, and icon)
  • Brand colors with Pantone swatches (we used Pantone 2965 C for the navy)
  • Truck wrap mockup
  • Google display ad set
  • A one-page site in Figma with a 12-column grid and 24 px gutters

Pros? She nailed hierarchy (what you see first). The phone number was huge and clear. The icon was a leaf that turned into a downspout with a small droplet. It looked custom, not clip art. We got vector files (SVG, EPS) and print-ready PDFs with 0.125" bleed and safe area. FASTSIGNS printed the wrap crisp. No fuzz. No banding.

Cons? Only two rounds of edits were included. The first draft used a script font that felt fancy, like a wedding invite. We had to push back. One extra edit round cost $75. Also, file messages got messy in the app, and we almost missed an update. I wish that part felt calmer.

Real-World Results (the part everyone asks about)

Before the new look:

  • Yard signs brought 3 calls a week, give or take.

After the new look:

  • Yard signs brought 9 to 11 calls a week for four weeks straight.
  • A driver flagged Luis at a red light because of the new truck wrap. That job booked next day. Gutter guards. Nice ticket.
  • The Facebook ad with the new banner got more clicks. Old ad felt flat. New one felt clean. People noticed the droplet.

Local online communities can supercharge that effect. For example, Statesville forums where neighbors swap weekend plans also host homeowner Q&A threads; one surprisingly lively corner is the lifestyle meetup site Statesville Swingers where members keep a “Trusted Pros” board packed with real contractor reviews you can mine for word-of-mouth leads and referrals.

Looking for more pro-level inspiration? Browse the showcase at Moon and Back Graphics to see how tight branding turns everyday service trucks into ringing phones.

Tiny Details That Pulled Weight

  • Kerning: Tightened the “TT” in “Gutters.” It looked like one word again, not “Gut ters.”
  • Gutters (the layout kind): Extra white space around photos and the droplet. Less crash, more calm.
  • Color: Pantone 2965 C for navy. Prints dark and rich. No sad blue.
  • Paper: Door hangers on 16 pt matte. UV spot gloss on the droplet. In the rain, that little shine pops. Kids point at it.
  • QR code: Bottom right, with a clean quiet zone. Scans fast.

Want to dig deeper into using negative (a.k.a. dead) space effectively? My field notes on yard signs, menus, and postcards—both the wins and the flops—live in this case study on dead space.

You know what? People remember shapes more than words. We tested three logo choices with sticky notes on my porch. The leaf-droplet won in minutes. The bolder the shape, the faster the yes. Design psychology says bold, high-contrast graphics trigger the same instant “this is strong and reliable” impression as certain biological cues. If you’re curious about the science behind that gut reaction, this research on what high testosterone does to a man breaks down how the hormone affects dominance, risk-taking, and body language—clues you can mirror in your brand visuals for extra punch.

What Bugged Me

  • Canva Pro: Fast mockups, but the exports can be soft for big prints. Some templates feel same-y. Good for drafts. Not great for the final logo.
  • Fiverr flow: Design was strong, but the message thread felt noisy. Also, paying for an extra edit stung a bit. But it saved me hours of fix-it work later, so I can’t stay mad.

If you ever get lost in jargon while talking with printers or designers, save yourself a headache by skimming a quick glossary for common graphic-design terms. Having the lingo in your back pocket speeds every conversation.

Simple Tips If You’re Doing Gutters Graphics

  • Make the phone number giant. Can a driver read it at 30 mph? If not, bigger.
  • Use one real rain photo. No super shiny roofs.
  • Print a test at home. If it’s muddy there, it’ll be worse at the shop.
  • Mind the layout gutter. Give columns space. Words need air.
  • Ask for vector files, CMYK colors, and a one-page brand guide. Future you will cheer.

My Verdict

If you’re on a tight budget, start with Canva Pro for a week. Keep it simple. Big type. Solid color blocks. Then, when you can, hire a designer who knows trades. Get a real logo suite and clean print files. That mix worked for us.

Would I do it the same way again? Yes. I’d hire the pro for the core brand and keep using Canva for daily posts and flyers. Luis is busier now. The phones ring more. And I sleep better, not stuck nudging tiny letters at midnight.

Rain still falls. But the brand? It holds.

My Honest Take on Graphic Design Jobs in Austin, TX

I’m Kayla, a graphic designer who moved to Austin with two suitcases, my iPad, and a scrappy portfolio. I wanted tacos, music, and a real job. I got all three. Sort of. Let me explain.

For another frank breakdown of the local scene, check out this honest take on graphic design jobs in Austin, TX from the Moon & Back Graphics crew.

Austin looks bright for design. Murals pop. Studios hum. But the job hunt felt like a long summer run on South Congress. Fun, but hot.

So, how’s the hunt?

Busy. Friendly. Competitive.

I found work in three lanes: agencies, in-house teams, and scrappy startups. Each one felt different. Each one taught me a thing.

And you know what? The city helps. People here hold doors and share leads. I got more “Hey, send your reel” notes here than anywhere else.

Real gigs I landed (and almost landed)

  • GSD&M — I made the final round for a junior spot. The take-home brief was to brand a taco festival. I built bright type, a playful grid, and hand-drawn peppers in Procreate. They liked my color story. They hired someone else. I was bummed for a day. Then I kept going.

  • YETI (contract) — A recruiter from Creative Circle reached out. Three months on packaging templates and store displays. $38/hour as W-2. Fast pace. Clear feedback. I spent one week fixing dielines and another week prepping art for a holiday rack. The team brought breakfast tacos on Fridays. Small detail, big mood.

  • East 6th startup — I did hybrid work for a health app. Figma all day. Icons, emails, App Store screens, and a small motion bump in After Effects. They were kind, but the roadmap moved like Austin weather. Sun. Storm. Sun again. Good thing I like puzzles.

I also picked up local work from Austin Digital Jobs and AIGA Austin. One was a rebrand for a food truck off South Lamar. The brief was simple: “Make it fun, but not goofy.” We landed on bold pink, a chunky logo, and a menu board you could read from the curb. It paid $1,800 and free quesadillas. Don’t judge. They were great.

Quick tangent: when the workload spiked, I experimented with different ways to scale—first by partnering with offshore designers (spoiler: here’s what really happened), and later by testing a white-label service (the full story is right here). Those trials taught me to vet partners as carefully as I vet clients.

Where I actually found the leads

  • Built In Austin — direct apply worked for me twice.
  • Austin Digital Jobs — that Facebook group has real folks and real talk.
  • AIGA Austin — meetups, Slack, and portfolio nights helped a lot.
  • Dribbble and Behance — I got two DMs after posting fresh case studies.
  • Creative Circle and Cella — recruiters who know design. I kept my resume tight and my samples simple.

I also browse Moon & Back Graphics whenever I need a fast jolt of layout inspiration—their case studies remind me how tight storytelling and bold visuals can sing.

If you like people time, CreativeMornings Austin is lovely. I met a producer there who later sent me a small deck job for a local nonprofit. Paid on time. Bless.

Pay that made sense (from what I saw)

This is what I lived or heard from friends. Your miles may vary.

  • Junior full-time: $50k to $65k
  • Mid-level: $70k to $90k
  • Senior: $95k to $120k
  • Contract design: $35 to $65 per hour
  • Branding gigs for small shops: $1,500 to $6,000
  • Motion adds a bump. Even light motion helps.

Want more data points to benchmark your offer? The latest averages for graphic designers in Austin hover around the mid-$50s according to Indeed’s salary breakdown, while the tech-centric numbers on Built In Austin show a similar midpoint once bonuses are factored in.

Benefits are hit or miss. Agencies had great culture but longer nights. In-house felt steadier. Startups gave me range and whiplash. I kind of liked both.

Tools teams asked for

Figma, Adobe CC (Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign), and light motion in After Effects. A few teams smiled when I knew HTML/CSS basics. No one yelled when I didn’t. If you're still pinpointing where to hone those skills, this roundup of the best schools for graphic design includes firsthand notes on what each campus really offers.

The vibe, for real

People are warm. Dogs show up at work. Coffee is strong. Houndstooth on North Lamar saved me twice during deck season. Createscape Coworking on the east side is calm and cheap-ish. I sketched there a lot.

Traffic on I-35? Rough. I learned to stack meetings late morning and leave before 5. Summer heat is real. Bring water. And sunscreen. And patience.

Sometimes, after a marathon day nudging pixels, I needed a totally unrelated mental break. One surprisingly amusing detour was spinning the wheel on anonymous video-chat sites—think digital small talk with strangers from everywhere. My favorite rundown of how one of those “roulette” style platforms actually works is captured in this candid Dirty Roulette review. It unpacks the pros, cons, safety pointers, and overall entertainment value, so you can decide if a late-night chat spin is a harmless diversion or a hard pass.

On nights when even that felt too random and I was curious about more curated, adults-only social scenes, I dug into how other cities structure grown-up meet-ups; this guide to Garner swingers walks through local event calendars, house-party etiquette, and safety best practices so you can gauge whether exploring that lifestyle could be your next unconventional reboot or just an interesting read.

What I loved

  • Range of work: tech, CPG, outdoor brands, music, nonprofits.
  • Community: folks share leads and feedback.
  • Cost of living: not low, but still kinder than the coasts.
  • Fun briefs: Austin brands like color and a wink.

What I didn’t love

  • Take-home tests without pay. I now ask, “Is this paid?” Sometimes they say yes.
  • Competition. Lots of talented people land here.
  • Pay can trail SF/NY for the same workload.
  • Late nights near launch. Not always, but enough.

Little things that helped me get yeses

  • I kept my portfolio tight: six clear projects, each with one problem, my steps, and the result.
  • I showed process shots: messy sketches, bad first drafts, quick notes. Teams like to see thinking.
  • I made quick mockups that felt real: cans, menus, bus wraps, app screens. Simple > fancy.
  • I brought a one-page PDF per project. Recruiters loved that.
  • I followed up within 24 hours. Short note. One sentence on how I’d add value.
  • Unsure whether those class assignments deserve a spot in your book? This piece breaks it down: Should I include class projects in my graphic design portfolio?

A small, true moment

After a long week on that YETI contract, I walked by the “You’re My Butter Half” mural. It was 7 PM. My feet hurt. I still smiled. My work sits in little corners of this city now—on a menu, a box, a tiny icon no one thinks about. That felt good.

Final take

Austin gets a solid 4.3 out of 5 for graphic design jobs. Not perfect. Pretty great.

If you like bright color, kind people, and work that moves fast, this town fits. Bring a clean portfolio, a calm voice, and a hat. The rest, you’ll learn as you go. And if you see me at Houndstooth with three lattes and a frazzled bun—say hi. I’ll share the brief.

I Tried “Golden Era” Graphic Design For Real. Here’s My Take.

I grew up loving old posters. Big shapes. Bold type. Simple color. So I spent a month making real work with that old-school style. I used real tools, real fonts, and real paper. I even messed up a few prints. You know what? It felt good. For the blow-by-blow journal of that month, check out the full project log I kept right here.

What I actually used

I didn’t guess. I used things I could touch and test.

Earlier in the process I went nostalgic on the software side too, dusting off vintage design apps—my candid notes on that detour live in this separate piece.

Let me explain the goal. I wanted posters and packaging that felt like the 50s to 70s. Clean grids, brave color, smart type. Less fluff. More punch. If you're curious how a pure 1950s palette and layout behave in the wild, I also road-tested them on a separate project over in this write-up.

Real projects I made (the fun part)

I made four things. All real. All used in my town.

  1. Movie Night Poster
    A small art house asked me for a “classic look.” I went full Saul Bass. I cut paper shapes by hand. I scanned them. I used two colors only: a bright red and black. Big title set in Helvetica Bold. Small credits in a neat stack at the bottom. The torn paper edge sold it. People took photos by the poster. That felt nice.

  2. Coffee Shop Menu
    My local cafe had a messy menu. I built a strict grid in InDesign. Four columns. Even gutters. Headings in Futura Bold. Prices in Futura Book. Two colors: a rich brown and cream. I printed on thick Mohawk, so it felt warm. The owner said folks ordered faster. Less noise. More coffee sold. Win.

  3. Hot Sauce Labels for a Summer Market
    I went mid-century friendly. Cooper Black for the name. A simple sunburst halftone in mustard yellow. A deep green for the text. One tiny pepper icon set dead center. I used kiss-cut labels and kept the layout simple. People picked it up because it looked “old but new.” Their words, not mine.

  4. 5K Wayfinding Signs
    I borrowed from Otl Aicher’s icon style (in case you need a refresher, Otl Aicher was a German graphic designer and typographer, best known for leading the design team for the 1972 Munich Olympics). Simple runners. Clean arrows. Helvetica Medium. Bright blue and white only. The city taped them to light poles. No one asked “where do I go?” That’s the point, right?

I also tried one more thing: a school play poster for Little Shop of Horrors. Lettering tight like Herb Lubalin. I tucked letters close, but not kissing. Deep green, poppy pink, and white. The chorus kids kept the poster after the show. I’m not crying. You’re crying.

Want to see how a modern studio pushes these mid-century tricks even further? Browse the showcase at Moon & Back Graphics for a quick visual tour.

What worked great

  • The grid did the heavy lifting. I spent time up front, then layout came fast.
  • Two-color prints looked rich, not cheap. Limiting color helped me focus.
  • Helvetica and Futura still slap. Clean, honest, and easy to read.
  • Paper choice mattered. Mohawk eggshell made ink look calm and steady.
  • Riso added soft texture. That tiny grain felt human.

If you’re more drawn to the sharper, international modernist current that grew out of these grids, you’ll like the field notes I kept after falling for that movement in this article.

What bugged me

  • Restraint is hard. I kept wanting to add one more color. Or a shape. Or a drop shadow. I had to walk away and come back with fresh eyes.
  • Tight letter spacing gets risky. Go too tight and it looks clumsy. I reprinted the play poster once. My wallet sighed.
  • Riso can shift registration. A bit off can look cool. A lot off looks wrong. I had to test first.

A small side note on color

I tried Pantone 185 red with black for the movie poster. It hit like a drum. For the cafe, I picked a warm brown close to Pantone 4695 and a soft cream. Food looked cozy. For the hot sauce, mustard yellow and green felt sunny and fresh. Seasons matter. Summer likes happy color. For a totally different vibe—think buzzing neon and retro nightlife—I experimented with a glowing palette in this hands-on review.

Who this style helps

  • Small shops that need clear signs and menus.
  • Events that want a smart, bold poster on a budget.
  • Brands with a friendly vibe and a short name. Cooper Black loves short names.
  • Teachers and students. The rules teach you craft. Fast.

One surprising brief came from an independent adult entertainer who needed a clean, vintage-inspired business card. To get a sense of how professionals in that industry communicate visually, I skimmed through FuckLocal’s escorts listings—the real-world photos and profile layouts there quickly illustrate which type choices, color contrasts, and information hierarchies help clients connect with confidence. Along the way I also peeked at how regional lifestyle circles present themselves; for instance, the Barberton swingers community on One Night Affair offers a straightforward profile grid and bold, high-contrast color cues—worth a browse if you want to see how clear hierarchy helps visitors scan events and connect quickly.

Tips I wish I had first

  • Set a grid before you pick type. It keeps you honest.
  • Start with two colors. Add a third only if it earns its seat.
  • Print a cheap proof at real size. Tape it to a wall. Step back.
  • Try one strong shape or icon. Not five.
  • Keep margins generous. White space is not empty. It’s air.

A quick tangent: the smell of old books

I know, we’re talking design. But that paper smell from old design books? It made me slow down. I read the captions. I traced layouts with my finger. It changed my pace. And pace changes taste.

The verdict

This “golden era” style still works today. It’s not about old for old’s sake. It’s about clear ideas, brave type, and simple form. It made my work cleaner. It made clients calm. It made me a better editor of my own taste.

Would I keep using it? Yes. Not for everything. But for the right job, it sings.

Quick scores (because we all like numbers)

  • Ease of use: 8/10 (the rules help you move fast)
  • Flexibility: 6/10 (great lane, not every lane)
  • Print friendliness: 9/10 (two colors save money and look sharp)
  • Client smiles: 9/10 (they get it right away)

Final note

If you try this, pick one font, one grid, and two colors. Make one strong move. Then stop. Let the work breathe. Honestly, that’s the magic.

Cool Graphic Design Books I Actually Use

I keep a short stack on my desk. It’s got coffee rings, sticky tabs, and bent corners. I grab these books when a layout fights me, when color feels flat, or when a client asks for “clean but bold.” You know what? These books have saved me more than once. If you prefer a bookmarked resource, the studio has a tidy roundup of cool graphic design books I actually use that mirrors the stack on my desk.

I bought them myself. I’ve used them on real jobs—posters, menus, logos, pitch decks, and that one weird billboard by the bus stop. Here’s what earned a spot on my shelf, and why they stayed.
For fresh inspiration between page flips, I sometimes hop over to Moon and Back Graphics to browse their free mockups and color palettes. While I’m there, I’ll skim the best graphic design blog posts I keep going back to for a quick mental reset.

My go-to stack (and how I use each)

Thinking with Type — Ellen Lupton

This one is my type buddy. It lives open on my desk like a cookbook. If you don’t have the book within arm’s reach, the official companion site, Thinking with Type, puts its core lessons only a click away.

  • How I used it: I fixed a crowded community theater poster by tweaking kerning (space between letters) and leading (space between lines). I also swapped lining numerals for oldstyle ones in the date, and the whole thing felt warmer. The director texted, “It finally breathes.” Same layout. Better type rules.
  • What I love: Clear rules, simple examples, and honest talk about hierarchy.
  • Quirk: It’s a gateway drug. You’ll start adjusting every menu you read at brunch. Sorry.

Making and Breaking the Grid — Timothy Samara

When a layout looks messy, I open this. When it looks too stiff, I open it again.

  • How I used it: I built a modular grid for a bakery menu (croissants got top billing, as they should). Then I “broke” the grid for seasonal specials with a tilted box. It felt fun but still tidy.
  • What I love: It shows why structure helps, and why breaking rules can add snap.
  • Quirk: Some samples feel very print-first. Still great, even for web and slides.

Interaction of Color — Josef Albers

This is the quiet, tricky one. It’s not flashy. It whispers, “Look again.” The digital plates on the book’s Interaction of Color website are perfect for quick, on-screen experiments.

  • How I used it: For a spring campaign, my green headline kept looking muddy on pink photos. I tested tiny swatches like the book suggests. I shifted the green toward blue, then made the pink a hair warmer. Boom—fresh and bright. Same values, different feel.
  • What I love: It teaches your eye, not just your brain. You start to see color lies.
  • Quirk: It’s a study book. Slow pages. Worth it.

Graphic Design: The New Basics — Ellen Lupton & Jennifer Cole Phillips

If a layout feels “off,” this book helps me name why.

  • How I used it: I reworked a social grid for a sneaker drop using scale, rhythm, and texture. I repeated a diagonal stripe across posts, and the feed started to feel like one story, not ten loud boxes.
  • What I love: Big ideas—point, line, plane—told with clear images. It’s friendly.
  • Quirk: Some student work looks dated, but the lessons hold up.

How to — Michael Bierut

This is the one I read on rainy Sundays with hot cocoa. It’s full of jobs, not just theory.

  • How I used it: For a museum poster, I tried his “start tiny” habit. I made a wall of ugly little thumbnails. One weird sketch—a stack of thin lines—turned into the final poster. The client picked it in five minutes.
  • What I love: Real stories. Smart advice on clients, edits, and showing work.
  • Quirk: No step-by-step lessons. It’s more “how I think,” which I like.

Designing Brand Identity — Alina Wheeler

A process book. Very handy when a project grows big and messy.

  • How I used it: I ran a half-day brand workshop for a local clinic. I used her worksheets to guide values, voice, and touchpoints. We left with a short plan, not just a logo. People were smiling. That felt good.
  • What I love: Clear phases, checklists, and clean charts that don’t feel stiff.
  • Quirk: A bit corporate at times. Still, it keeps me honest.

While brushing up on brand voice exercises, I recently compared how dating apps position themselves in copy and visuals. An honest UberHorny review gives a designer-friendly rundown of features, target demographics, and mood-setting UI choices you can mine for reference when crafting cheeky, adult-focused branding. Similarly, when I needed reference material for a sultry event poster targeting adventurous couples, I scoped out the vibrant nightlife descriptions in the Athens swingers scene to study how tasteful photography, playful typography, and inclusive language work together—worth a peek if you ever design for grown-up entertainment brands and want real-world examples of tone that feels flirtatious yet welcoming.

Logo Modernism — Jens Müller (TASCHEN)

This is my giant mood board. Also, my best heavy book. It’s a brick.

  • How I used it: I studied monograms in the “Technology” section before sketching a mark for a small dev studio. I kept the shape simple, used bold negative space, and it scaled great on favicons.
  • What I love: Thousands of logos from the 1940s–1980s. Pure shape play.
  • Quirk: It’s not a how-to. And it weighs like a small dog.

Burn Your Portfolio — Michael Janda

Business and workflow tips, told straight.

  • How I used it: I stole—well, borrowed—his email template for scope creep. It helped me set a change fee without sounding mean. The project stayed on track, and I didn’t work all weekend.
  • What I love: Real studio stories. Clear advice on money, files, and client talk.
  • Quirk: Fewer visuals. More chair-side coaching vibe.

Tiny lessons these books tattooed on my brain

  • Kerning is kindness. Give letters room, and people will read more.
  • Grids are like good bones. They hold the house, even when you paint it loud.
  • Color is sneaky. What sits next to it can change its mood.
  • Ideas start small. Thumbnails beat blank screens.
  • Process saves you. A plan helps when a project gets wild.

If the terminology in those lessons ever feels like alphabet soup, running through a glossary for graphic design terms can straighten things out fast.

Little things I didn’t love (but lived with)

  • Some samples look dated. I treat them like vintage, then update the style.
  • A few books are heavy or pricey. I see them as long-term tools. Like a good pan.
  • Theory can feel slow. But slow study made me faster on real jobs.

Who should grab what?

  • New to design: Thinking with Type, The New Basics
  • Stuck on layout: Making and Breaking the Grid
  • Color struggles: Interaction of Color
  • Building brands: Designing Brand Identity
  • Logo nerds: Logo Modernism
  • Freelance life: Burn Your Portfolio
  • Story time with smarts: How to

A quick coffee-break test

When I get stuck, I do this:

  • Stand up. Sip water. Open one book.
  • Copy one small move: adjust leading, add a baseline grid, test two colors on gray.
  • Ask, “Does this read easier?” If yes, I keep going. If no, I try the next book.

Simple. And it works more than I expect.

Final word (and a tiny pep talk)

These books don’t replace play. They feed it. I still sketch on napkins. I still tape printouts on my wall and squint from the hallway like a neighbor. But when my eye needs a nudge, these pages help.

If you’re building your own stack, start with one or two. Mark them up. Bend the corners. Let them get messy. Good work comes from good mess, plus a few steady guides.

SDSU Graphic Design: My Honest, Hands-On Review

I studied graphic design at San Diego State. I carried a heavy cutting mat. I wore out my ruler. And yes, I cried after one tough crit. Twice. But I learned a lot. If you’d like all the granular details—classes, costs, wins, and headaches—I’ve broken them down in my honest, hands-on SDSU graphic design review.

You know what? I still keep a little stack of old proofs from the Mac lab. They smell like ink and stress and hope. That mix feels right for this program.

How the day-to-day felt

Most weeks were studio heavy. We pinned work up with blue tape, stood in a half circle, and talked type, grids, and color. Crits ran long, but not mean. My type professor made us fix kerning until our eyes went fuzzy. He was right. Bad kerning ruins good ideas.

We had a digital lab with iMacs, Adobe CC, and a big Epson printer that loved to jam at 11 p.m. (Of course.) The print shop had screen printing gear. I burned my first screen there for a poster about a campus blood drive. Red ink everywhere. Not a metaphor. Just messy.

Classes that stuck with me

  • Typography I and II: We built a 16-page zine from scratch. My zine was about border tacos. I used Freight Text for body and Futura for headers. It looked clean on screen. It looked muddy on paper. I learned about CMYK, dot gain, and why paper choice is not cute—it’s critical.

  • Interaction Design: We used Figma to build a shuttle app for campus. I tested my prototype with three classmates outside the library. One person tapped the wrong button three times. I rewired the flow with bigger hit targets and clearer labels. Simple wins.

  • Branding Studio: We rebranded a small coffee truck in North Park. I wrote brand guidelines, built a logo system, and mocked up a cup sleeve with a die-line. My first proof had no bleed. The print tech just looked at me. I fixed it and never forgot again.

  • Packaging: I designed a cold brew box that fit in a fridge door. It was cute and stackable, but the die-cut made the handle weak. Everyone loved the look. The structure failed. That lesson hurt, but it stuck. Pretty is not enough.

  • Motion Basics: We used After Effects for a 10-second logo sting. I kept my easing soft and kind of buttery. My laptop hated rendering. I kept a granola bar next to it like a peace offering.

Real projects I’m proud of

  • I redesigned the bus map for my mom. She hates tiny type. So I made a bold grid, high contrast lines, and clear stops. My prof said, “Design for one person, then let others benefit.” Mom framed it. That counts.

  • I built a poster series for local trail cleanup days. One poster had a hand-drawn glove and a big, chunky headline. We printed with a Riso-like effect in the lab. The texture made it feel warm. People actually showed up.

  • For a campus club, I set up a style kit: hex codes, type scales, spacing rules, and a tiny library in Figma. They still use it. Seeing your system out in the wild is a quiet joy.

People and guidance

Crits were honest. Not soft, not cruel. One professor asked me, “What job does this type do?” I said, “It looks nice.” He waited. I learned to answer better.

We had guest talks from local studios—MiresBall, BASIC/DEPT, and a small team from North Park. I brought postcards of my work. I got an internship at a tiny studio doing brand refresh work for a craft bakery. I cleaned up a style sheet. I built a social template bank. The owner taught me how to talk to clients without jargon. Bless her.

On nights when inspiration ran dry, I’d scroll through the case studies on Moon & Back Graphics and come back to the lab with three new thumbnail sketches and a lot more energy.

AIGA SDSU helped a lot. I went to a portfolio review at Liberty Station. A designer circled my case study and wrote, “Tell me the problem, not just the polish.” I went home and rewrote every caption.

The dreaded portfolio review

There’s a review before upper-division work. It’s tense. I put my pieces in a simple black folio, labeled everything, and showed process: mess, sketch, prototype, fail, fix, final. I passed. A friend didn’t. She tried again the next term with stronger type work and got in. It’s not a wall. It’s a filter. Wondering whether those class projects even belong in your portfolio? Here’s my candid take: Should I include class projects in my graphic design portfolio?.

Gear and spaces

  • Mac lab with current Adobe apps
  • Big Epson printer that can eat your paper if you feed it wrong
  • Screen printing studio (bring tape, don’t be shy with the squeegee)
  • A cabinet of Pantone books that everyone guards like treasure
  • Lots of tables with blade scars and coffee rings—signs of life

Pro tip: bring extra blades, a metal ruler with a cork back, and a box of cheap paper for drafts. Print small. Fix. Then print big.

San Diego bits

We took type walks in North Park to study old signs. We visited Balboa Park for wayfinding study. During San Diego Design Week, we rode scooters to talks and grabbed fish tacos after. Warm nights. Cool work. Simple joys.

Design inspiration doesn’t clock out at 5 p.m.; some of the most surprising color palettes and typography mash-ups I’ve seen come from nightlife posters and club interiors around the world. If your curiosity (or future study-abroad trip) ever lands you in Russia, you might want to explore how the city’s after-dark culture informs its visuals by starting with Moscow Swingers—their candid rundown of venues, etiquette, and scene aesthetics will help you navigate the clubs confidently and maybe come away with fresh references for your next mood board.

What I loved

  • Strong focus on type and systems, not just “make it pretty”
  • Real feedback from pros in the area
  • Freedom to print, test, and make physical things
  • Teachers who remember your project and push the next step
  • Community—late nights in the lab felt like a tiny studio

What bugged me

  • The printers were busy near finals; get in line early
  • Some classes filled fast; I waited a term for one I wanted
  • Motion gear was fine, not fancy; my laptop did the heavy lift
  • You have to be a self-starter. No one holds your hand past week two

Who will thrive here

If you like clear grids, honest crits, and making stuff that moves people, you’ll do well. If you want a super glossy, tech-only setup, this may feel modest. But the ideas? They get sharp. Curious how SDSU compares to other programs I’ve walked through? Check out my field-tested list of the best schools for graphic design.

A few tips I wish I had on day one

  • Learn Figma early. Build components. Name layers like a grown-up.
  • Print process, not just finals. Tape your drafts up. Live with them a day.
  • Keep a type journal. Note sizes, leading, and why they worked.
  • Join AIGA SDSU. Go to one talk a month. Bring questions.
  • Save your file versions. V1, V2, V2a, V3-final-for-real. You’ll thank yourself.

One elective that surprised me was photography basics. We shot portrait and figure studies, and it drove home how lighting and composition translate across design disciplines. If you’re curious about how professionals handle tasteful, minimalist figure photography, check out Nude Snap — their behind-the-scenes guides and lighting breakdowns offer a quick, practical boost for anyone looking to sharpen their eye for form, shadow, and respectful storytelling.

Final take

SDSU Graphic Design gave me strong legs. Not flashy, steady. I learned how to build a system, defend a choice, and fix my own mess. I can talk kerning with a printer and copy tone with a client. That mix matters.

Was everything perfect? No. But the work felt real. And real sticks. If you’re ready to show up, take the crit, and try again, you’ll come out ready. I did. I still keep that first bad bleed in my drawer. It reminds me how far I’ve come.

I Tried the Best Investment Website Designs So You Don’t Have To

I’m Kayla. I use money apps every week, sometimes every day. I’m picky about design because bad screens make me click the wrong stuff. And with money, that hurts. So I tested the big names and paid close attention to what helped me stay calm, move fast, and not miss a thing.

You know what? Good design doesn’t just look nice. It saves your nerves on red days.

If you’d like the blow-by-blow version of my testing marathon, I documented everything in I Tried the Best Investment Website Designs So You Don’t Have To over on Moon & Back Graphics.

What Makes a Great Investment Site?

  • Clear buttons and one main action per screen
  • Calm colors that don’t shout
  • Big, steady numbers (no jumpy tables)
  • Charts that drag smooth
  • Strong contrast and good fonts
  • A clean trade ticket with fewer scary surprises
  • A mobile app that feels like the site, not a cousin

I also care about color choices for folks who can’t see red and green well. A small icon or a little arrow helps a lot.

My Quick Picks

  • Best for pros: Fidelity
  • Best for new investors: Betterment
  • Best for fast moves: Robinhood
  • Best for deep research: Morningstar
  • Best “quiet” money feel: Vanguard
  • Best all-around bank + invest hub: Charles Schwab
  • Best free quotes and news mix: Yahoo Finance
  • Best planning view: Wealthfront

Now the real stories.

Fidelity: Clean, Calm, and Fast When Markets Move

I keep a watchlist in Fidelity. The “Positions” page shows each ticker with a small green or red tag, but it doesn’t scream. The font is simple and easy to scan. I like the tiny filter at the top, because I can sort by day change or total gain with one tap.

The trade ticket opens in a neat side panel. Limit price sits right by quantity. No hunting. On a wild morning, I placed two trades while my kid colored at the table. No mistakes. That says a lot.

Downside? The research tab can feel heavy. Too many links in a row. But the core screens? Solid.

Betterment: Friendly Cards That Keep You On Track

I set a test goal in Betterment for a “Home fund.” The home screen turns goals into tidy cards. Each card shows a progress ring, a date, and a plain note like “You’re on track.” It sounds cheesy, but on a long week, it helps.

The sign-up flow uses simple sliders—How much? How often? It’s smooth on mobile. The “Adjust risk” screen explains things in small lines, not a wall of text.

If you’re saving for that home (or any big milestone) with a partner, staying in sync about contributions and purchase timing is crucial. A quick way to keep the conversation organized is to open a private room on InstantChat Couples, where you can share screenshots of your balances, pin budget reminders, and ping each other in real-time without wading through endless text threads—handy for turning “Did you fund the IRA yet?” into a two-second check-in instead of a nightly argument.

One small gripe: I wish the “Edit plan” button stayed sticky at the bottom. I had to scroll back up a few times. Still, this one makes saving feel doable.

If date-night adventures are also part of your shared “fun fund,” you might want to think beyond dinner reservations. Couples passing through southern Oregon can explore the lively community of Grants Pass swingers to browse vetted profiles, see upcoming meet-ups, and read safety-first etiquette guides before deciding whether to add a memorable twist to their travel plans.

Robinhood: Quick, Crisp, and a Little Too Fun

Robinhood moves fast. On my phone, I can press and drag on the chart and see the price pop up right away. The main buy button is big. No fluff. Dark mode looks clean.

It used to throw confetti after trades. Now it’s toned down, which I like. Money can be fun, sure, but not like a party. The order review is clear, though I want fees and risk notes to sit even closer to the “Submit” button.

If you want speed, it’s great. If you want layers of data on one screen, not so much.

Morningstar: Heavy Research, Smart Labels

When I’m digging deep, I open Morningstar. The “Quote” page has those star ratings and the “Bulls Say / Bears Say” boxes. I used it last month to compare two dividend funds. The labels helped me see the trade-offs fast.

The layout is dense. Charts and ratios crowd together. On slow Wi-Fi at my mom’s place, it lagged. But if you’re in a study mood, it’s a gold mine.

Vanguard: Quiet Like a Library (Sometimes Too Quiet)

My IRA lives at Vanguard. The dashboard feels steady. Lots of white space. Big, honest numbers. On stressful days, that tone helps.

But the menus can feel old. I had to click “My Accounts,” then “Balances,” then a link in a tiny table. It works, but it’s not quick. Still, I like the mood. It treats money like a serious thing, not a game.

Charles Schwab: Polished, Blue, and Straight to the Point

Schwab’s blue look is crisp. The top bar gives me “Accounts,” “Trade,” and “Research” right where I expect them. Watchlists are clean and easy to sort. I made a simple covered call test, and the trade flow showed each leg in a clear stack.

Wish list? A little more spacing in the options chain. My eyes got tired. But overall, it feels professional without getting cold.

Wealthfront: Planning That Feels Like a Map

Wealthfront’s “Path” planner is my favorite money map. It shows lines for cash flow and a simple future graph. I plugged in a house plan and a break year. The screen updated fast, and the “What if?” boxes made sense.

The color fades are pretty, though sometimes the labels get small on my phone. Still, it’s the only planner that didn’t make me feel dumb. That’s rare.

Yahoo Finance: The Free Workhorse

I use Yahoo Finance for quote pages. The price sits big at the top. News sits right below, then key stats. It’s not fancy, but it loads fast. Perfect for a quick check while waiting for coffee.

Comments can get messy. I skip them and just use the chart and the news feed. The mobile app matches the site well.

Little Design Wins I Loved

  • A sticky gain/loss badge that stays in view while I scroll
  • Tooltips that explain a term in one line, not ten
  • A search bar that guesses tickers fast
  • Tables that don’t jump when new data hits
  • A “Preview order” screen that looks like the final receipt

Small things, big calm.

For more tiny-but-mighty ideas, I keep a swipe file of the best graphic design blog posts I keep going back to—worth a scroll if you need fresh eyes.

Stuff That Bugged Me

  • Red/green only. Please add arrows or icons.
  • Modals that cover the whole page for one tiny choice.
  • Auto-logout that kicks me out mid-trade note. Give me a timer!
  • Charts with tiny handles I can’t grab on mobile.

I know security matters. Just don’t make safety feel like punishment.

Mobile vs. Desktop

I trade and track on my phone, but I check tax lots on my laptop. Fidelity and Schwab keep the feel across both. Vanguard is better on desktop. Robinhood shines on mobile. Betterment and Wealthfront are good on both, since they use big tiles and simple flows.

If You’re Building an Investment Site (Yes, I Noticed)

I’ve mocked up pages in Figma for a small RIA site my friend runs. Here’s what worked:

  • Show cash and total value first, always
  • One main button per page
  • Make errors plain: “Order failed. Cash is short by $23.40”
  • Keep charts smooth; I used Highcharts for that test
  • Check color contrast; I used the Stark plug-in
  • Save views: “My columns” and “My sort” so I don’t redo work
  • Need palettes or icons fast? Grab a kit from Moon & Back Graphics for a polished, trustworthy look.

Before you wire up a single button, it’s worth skimming Nielsen Norman Group’s comprehensive Investor Relations & Corporate Websites usability report for research-backed guardrails. And if you’re curious about letting simulated users bang on your prototype overnight, the recent “Generative Agents” study on arXiv (see the preprint at 2303.14263) offers a clever peek at how AI can model real-world behavior before launch.

And if you’re thinking longer term about leveling up your skills, here’s my field guide to [the best schools for graphic design from my own two feet](https://www.moonandbackgraphics.com/the-best-schools-for-graphic

I Designed Words You Can Walk Through: My Take on Environmental Typography

You know what? I love big type on real walls. Letters you can touch. Words that help you move. That stuff makes a space feel kind.

Let me explain. Environmental typography is just type used in places you live in—hospitals, schools, shops, trains, parks. It’s the signs, the giant quotes, the floor arrows, the room numbers. It’s art you can use. And when it works, you don’t think about it. You just feel calm and you find your way.
If you want to see more real-world examples of how bold lettering transforms a space, take a peek at the work showcased by Moon & Back Graphics.

For an even deeper dive into the thinking behind environmental typography, you can explore my detailed breakdown in I Designed Words You Can Walk Through.

Great design doesn’t only steer traffic in clinics and garages; it also sets the mood for everyday adventures. Designing fonts for human moments has made me pay attention to the places people pick for a night out—how a clever wall quote can turn an ordinary bar into a memory. If you’re itching to explore venues that know how to use space and vibe to spark connection, swing by this collection of inventive date ideas—you’ll leave with ready-to-use plans that go way beyond the usual dinner-and-a-movie routine and highlight spots where thoughtful environment design truly shines.

Likewise, if your field research takes you through Wisconsin and you’re curious about how adult-oriented clubs choreograph signage, lighting, and lounge layouts to encourage relaxed mingling, a quick tour of the Janesville swingers community can be eye-opening—the page offers candid venue summaries, etiquette tips, and atmosphere photos that reveal how design choices fuel both intimacy and wayfinding.

Below are real projects I built, with the gear, fonts, wins, and the “ugh, never again” moments.

A Clinic That Actually Feels Friendly

I led wayfinding for a pediatric clinic in Portland. Hallways were long. Parents were tired. Kids were wiggly. We needed signs that spoke fast.

  • Fonts I used: Frutiger for the main signs. It reads well from odd angles. For room numbers, I used DIN because its shapes are clean and bold.
  • Colors: Soft teal, warm yellow, and a calm navy. High contrast, but not harsh.
  • Materials: 3M 180mC vinyl for walls. It has tiny air lines, so bubbles push out. For room IDs, I used 1/8" matte acrylic with raised letters and Grade 2 Braille. I set the letters 1/32" high to meet code.
  • Tools: HP Latex 365 printer for the wall graphics. Summa S2 cutter for precise letters. 3M VHB 5952 tape for acrylic mounts.

What worked: The teal arrows on white walls popped without shouting. Kids followed color “paths” like a game. Parents said the floor numbers felt “obvious,” which is perfect.

What bugged me: I placed one sign too high near a vent. The glare on the acrylic was mean at 3 p.m. Fix? I swapped to a satin face and dropped the panel 8 inches. No more hot spot. Lesson learned.

The Parking Garage With Too Many Left Turns

I redid a six-level garage. People spun in circles. Not fun.

  • Font: Interstate. It looks like highway signs because it is. No fuss, no frills.
  • Reflective film: 3M 3930 for drive lanes. It catches headlights but not every lamp.
  • Paint: Matthews satin black and white for level markers. The satin cut the glare. Clean look.

Issue I ran into: The reflective sheeting was too bright on a ramp curve. The glow bounced back into drivers’ eyes. I trimmed the width, added a dark border, and raised the sign 10 inches. Small tweak, big comfort.

Tip I follow here: Letter height in feet is about viewing distance in inches divided by 25. So if folks read from 50 feet, I make letters about 24 inches tall. Not exact science, but close enough for quick calls on site.

Wayfinding like this is part of a bigger discipline called environmental graphic design—if that term’s new to you, I unpack it (complete with sketches and mock-ups) in Getting Around Without Getting Lost.

The Gym Wall That Smiles Back

A high school asked for a supergraphic in their gym. One wall. Huge type. Team spirit, but not cheesy.

  • Font: Druk Wide Bold for the main word mark. Punchy. Then Source Sans Pro for smaller quotes on the side walls.
  • Method: I printed “paint masks” on low-tack vinyl and rolled paint through them. That way, the letters look painted-on, not sticker-like.
  • Paint: Two coats of Sherman-Williams Emerald, then a clear matte top coat so sweaty balls won’t scuff it.

A sweet surprise: During a game, the word mark reads clean on camera. No moiré pattern. The coach thanked me. I pretended to be cool. I was not cool.

One snag: The cinderblock joints caused bleed in the A and R. I switched to a heavier mask and burnished the edges with heat. Crisp edges after that.

Fonts I Trust on Walls (And Why)

  • Frutiger: Friendly counters, works from weird angles.
  • Interstate: Clear at speed. Great for garages and corridors.
  • DIN: Strong bones. Numbers look sharp.
  • Clearview: Soft edges. Good for hospitals and clinics.
  • Source Sans Pro: Simple and calm for body copy and captions.
  • Ryman Eco: An eco-friendly face that sips ink instead of guzzling it—handy for temporary graphics when sustainability is top of mind.

I test at real size. I print sample words at 100% and tape them 30 feet away. I step back. I squint. If I squint and still read it, we’re good.

Hardware and Stuff I Lean On

  • HP Latex 365: Colors look true. It doesn’t stink up the room. Fast dry.
  • Summa S2 T75: Cuts tiny letters without fuzz. Tracks long runs straight.
  • 3M 180mC Vinyl: Air release channels. Repositionable. My wall hero.
  • 3M VHB 5952 Tape: Sticks panels like a champ. Prep your wall and you’re golden.
  • Matte Acrylic, 1/8": Clean edges. Light weight. Good for ADA panels.
  • Raster Braille Beads: Uniform dots, easy to read by touch. I seat them by hand. Oddly calming.

I lean on the same media when I’m wrapping vehicles; the lessons from a full year of fleet work are over here in I Designed Truck Graphics This Year—Here’s What Actually Worked.

Tiny gripe: VHB hates dusty paint. I lost a sign once. Now I wipe with 70% isopropyl and use a primer where needed. No more drop-offs.

Little Rules I Keep, Without Being a Robot

  • Contrast first. If the wall is light, the type is dark. Simple.
  • Don’t fight the light. If the sun glares, move the sign or change the finish.
  • Arrows need space. They’re like shoulders; give them room to turn.
  • Kerning: I open pairs a hair for far distance—T and A, F and i, V and A. Far eyes like airy letters.
  • Heights: People not in wheelchairs still benefit from ADA logic. Clear paths help everyone.
  • Language: Fewer words. Better verbs. “Check-in” beats a full sentence.

A Quick Fail That Helped Me Grow

I once used glossy laminate in a bright lobby. Looked fancy. Read like a mirror. Folks saw their faces, not the words. I swapped to a matte overlam and bumped weight by 10%. Problem solved. My pride healed in a week.

Why This Work Feels Good

Environmental type is quiet help. It’s a hand on your back that says, “This way.” It’s also big fun. Letters stretch, wrap, bend, and sing with a space. When a parent finds a room fast, or a teen grins at a bold word, that’s the win.

Would I change anything? Sure. I’d test more under real light before final install. I do it often, but not always. Also, I’d bring extra arrow sets. People love last-minute turns.

Here’s the thing: if you can read it without thinking, the design worked. If you smile while you read it, that’s great design.

Thanks for walking the halls with me. If you’re planning a project, I’m happy to chat fonts, films, or even the smell of fresh vinyl. It smells like a new start, which is cheesy. But it’s true.