On one of our walks, Mr. Fluffster and I came across the confusing sign above left. Was it meant to keep us “humans” off the stepping stones (above right) as well as out of the water? I took the photo from one of those stones. A clearer message might have been: “Please stay out of the water.”
Back in my editor days, signs were the most challenging of all my projects. Initial requests always seemed straightforward: Our Anytown Office needs a window sign to inform the public about the services it offers. Please work with the designer to create one.
Requesters always believed their signs would be quick and easy to produce. They never were. After a few such frustrating projects, my more experienced colleagues and I happily passed the buck to newer, naiver team members.
One cursed sign took four years. The office in question assigned its articling student to the project. Nine months later, when that student’s term ended, we still didn’t have basic information about the sign’s size and content.
Months passed without answers to simple email questions. “You’ve asked for a 5' x 8' sign but 5 feet by 8 feet wouldn’t fit in your window; do you mean 5 inches x 8 inches?” “Please send us a close-up of the actual window where the sign will be posted. This blurry photo of the building’s second floor and roof isn’t enough.”
Every year, a new articling student took over and ignored our emails. After Year One, when asked for updates on this project, the designer and I would glance nervously at one other and change the subject. By Year Four, we’d just laugh hysterically.
We’d (re)explain our production requirements to each new student. And each would rewrite the sign wording and send new — and incomplete — details about size and type of material. Follow-up queries rarely yielded satisfactory answers.
Whenever we thought we were ready to print, last-minute snafus would hold things up just long enough for that particular student’s articles to end. In Year Three, we discovered — minutes before we were about to send the sign to the printer — that it violated bylaws on the colours and materials allowed for storefront window signs in that community.
We finally got it done at the end of Year Four.
Every single word in a sign requires careful thought. Who is the sign intended for? What should people know after reading it? Without clear answers to such questions, signs are ineffective, like the one above.
I appreciate good signs. See below for some fine recent examples, all about dog poop, a topic that seems to inspire effective, clear communication.
Left, a one-of-a-kind homemade sign that gets right to the point.
Right, a cute one that comes with poop bags.
My favourite, though the broken web address at the bottom no longer links to the Poo Fairy page where
locals could once download this sign to post on their own property … and learn about the dangers of dog poop.
* Created by Prettycons and Nikita Kozin from Noun Project.
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